Abigail’s fingers slid easily up and down inside my panties as I lay back on the comfortable blanket thrown across a hay pile in the loft of our old barn. Gazing out through the broad loft window I could see the sun washing the valley with a golden glow, the tips of the trees twinkling with glints of orange and yellow as my body filled with the fluttery ripples of pleasure Abigail was giving me. We met here late afternoon almost every school day. Our chores were done, leaving 30 minutes or so before dinner time. The barn is not in use anymore and sets on the south end of our farm, not too far a walk from Abigail’s house. It’s private and I just adore the view from the hay loft, looking over the valley cut by Stone River to the west where the sun warms the sky before leaving our small country town for the night.
I settled back on the cotton blanket we keep wrapped in a water safe bag. Our spot is just beneath the lip of the loft doors where we cannot be seen from the ground, though no one ever comes out here anyway. I can lay prone and see all the way to the far hills across Stone River, the sound of birds tweeting happily all around us. Abigail and I chatter about the day, boys, our families, as we spread the blanket and I lay on it. She likes to take my pants or dress off. I came with no panties once, thinking she might enjoy it. But, she told me she likes removing my panties. “I want to unwrap you,” is what she actually said. It gave me butterflies. I think my favorite is when I wear a sundress. I like how her hands feel climbing up my thighs underneath it to pull my panties down. She takes her time, caressing me inside, locking her thumbs under the elastic and dragging slowly down until they come off my ankles. By the time her fingers touch my vagina, I’m practically dripping with anticipation.
Tonight, I’m wearing jeans. It was picture day in school, and I took extra time on my face and hair, as did she. She told me how pretty I looked as my legs fell open. The gentle wind blew across my bare thighs, a subtle chill at the opening of my vagina from the moisture there. Her hands caressed me through the lacy white of my cotton panties causing the air to drain out of my lungs. I love how she touches me.
“Did you talk with Michael today?” She asked, tracing the furrows of my labia through the warm fabric pulled across them.
“He won’t even look at me.”
“He’s a dork. He cheated on Melissa Stringworth.”
“I know, but that was last summer and he’s so sweet now.”
Her fingers slipped down between my lips, my flowing lubrication making my insides buttery against her fingertips. I gasped slightly, looking down at the outline of her knuckles as they bobbed up and down underneath my panties. “Mmmmm, right there…” I said, an involuntary purring in my voice.
