This Love Is Worth A Fortune

(This one's for you, Bri)

One day, Emma, a plump fair-skinned young woman, with long light golden brown hair shining in the sun, was out in the field over the hill from her cabin, bent over, picking daisies. She heard a low rumbling of wheels in the distance and as she looked toward the hill, a gypsy caravan rounded the bend on the dusty road and approached. Emma stood and put her hand up to shield her eyes both from the dust these carts were kicking up and the sun that had temporarily blinded her. The first wagon in the caravan pulled to a stop near her.

A tall, sturdy man, with a full brown beard and intense, yet kind eyes looked down at her and asked, "Would you like your fortune told, in exchange for some of your lovely flowers?"

"Um…okay," she said, hesitantly, unsure of gypsies, but ultimately deciding in the spilt-second debate in her mind to go for it, because she loved the idea of tarot cards and crystal balls. (Not that she truly believed, but she had read about them in books, and had to find out for herself what it was like.) She gathered a nosegay of flowers and reached out as he extended his hand to her and pulled her up into his traveling fortuneteller's quarters, as the rest of the caravan moved ahead and pulled their carts into a circle in the field, making themselves right at home on Emma's property.

As she entered the door to his carriage, Emma looked around in awe, as she beheld the beautiful, deep colors of the satin cushions and the velvet curtains. Many ornate posters and statues surrounded the room, giving it an air of mystery. In the center of the room, in the middle of all the floor cushions, sat a low table with a shiny brocade table cloth and a gleaming crystal ball.

"Wow," she thought to herself, "one could really be convinced by all this detail and gaudiness." The gypsy led her to the cushion nearest the table, and sat down beside her, rather than across from her, which she found odd, "But a nice personal touch, I guess," she thought. "He's just being friendly." All this time, he was still holding her hand, which had begun to get a little damp. "Hmm," she thought, "just like other parts of me," as she noticed how attractive the bearded gypsy was, after getting a better look at him, protected now from the glare of the sun. He looked into her eyes as if he could see her soul, and she squirmed a bit on her cushion, embarrassed. "Maybe he can see the future. Or just read my mind. Oh, I sure hope not, this could be embarrassing," she thought.

He looked at her, and said, "Folks all over the countryside call me the Magnificent Whit. But you can just call me Whit. What's your name?"

"Emma," she stammered...lowering her eyelashes shyly, barely able to look away from him, but she didn't want to be rude and stare.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you Emma," Whit said. "I will first read your palm, then we will look into the crystal ball." He turned her hand over, cradling hers in his larger, strong palm, and slowly, lightly, traced a finger diagonally across her palm, and said "This is your love line...see this break in the line here? How old are you, Emma?"

"Twenty four," she replied.

"It looks as if about 3 years ago, you had your heart broken. Is this true?"

"Yes...I did," she admitted. "Is he for real? This is scary," she thought to herself.

"Right here, however, your love line is strong, and thick, almost as if a smaller second line has joined it," he said, while still tracing the lines of her palm gently with his fingertip. "That means that you will find love very, very soon." Emma looked up at him, noticing his lips and how much she wished to be kissed by them.

"Can we look at the crystal ball now?" she said quickly, losing all concentration when talking to him and completely forgetting to ask about her lifeline.

"Crystal ball? Yes, we can look at the crystal ball," Whit stammered. It may have been her imagination, but it seemed to Emma that Whit had also lost a bit of concentration as she caught him peering into the lacing of the bodice on her simple peasant dress.

"This old dress is getting too small," she thought, "my breasts are nearly falling out of it. Hopefully, in the crystal ball, I'll see myself in some new clothes." Whit reached forward to get the crystal ball, at the exact moment when Emma reached up to adjust her dress, and turning to look, he accidentally knocked the ball off the stand and it went rolling right into Emma's lap.

"Oops, it's a good thing I've got plenty of cushioning to break that fall." Laughing, she reached for the crystal ball, but Whit took her hand. He agreed, looking her up and down, fully appreciating the cushioning.

He said, "You know, maybe its better this way, to read the crystal ball while it's touching you, we may be able to get a more accurate reading when it's actually picking up the energy from your body."

He reached forward with his hands, letting them graze against her thighs as he grasped the ball. She shivered with anticipation, and she was sure he could feel it. He slowly ran his hands over the ball, asking into the universe, "Crystal ball, what does the future hold in store for the lovely Emma?" She looked down, blushing, her breasts forming a frame around the ball from her vantage point, and saw the interior swirling with white fog. The fog circled, then slowly started to clear.

Emma saw herself in the crystal sphere, in her present dress "Damn, no new clothes," she thought. "Wait," she leaned over further, looking closer. She could see a man, with a beard, kissing her neck, and her head is thrown back in passion. "I recognize that beard." She looked up at Whit, wide eyed.

"I told you that love was in your very near future," he said, as he moved his hand up to her waist. She picked up the crystal ball and set it gently back into it's holder on the table, and took Whit's hand and moved closer to him, now half reclining on the satiny floor cushions

"If you can see the future, did you know before you even came over the hill, before you even saw me in my field, that I was the one for you?

"Yes," he said, "I've been traveling the countryside to find the girl that looked like the one in my crystal ball future." When we rounded the bend in the road, I saw you from afar, and I knew. After looking for so long, I would have recognized you anywhere. At last, I've found you!"

With that, he reached for her face and pulled her closer to him for a kiss that seemed to stop time. The clouds stopped moving, the birds stopped chirping, the sounds of raunchy gypsy songs from around the campfire faded away. Everything stopped but the breath and the heartbeats of these two lovers, united at last. Emma leaned back as Whit continued kissing further down her neck to the very top of her bodice, fulfilling her vision in the ball. Her chest heaving, her fingers trembling, she slowly untied the fraying knot, and with a snap, the string broke and her full breasts came tumbling out of her top.

"Oh!" she started, and Whit just smiled, looking at her like a man about to eat dinner after a long day in the fields. He took one of her nipples in his mouth, and began to gently suck, while squeezing and kneading the other breast with his hand. Her nipples were so hard, and he teased them with the flicking of his tongue, eliciting moans of encouragement from Emma. Her hand found its way down to his trousers, where she could feel that they were getting awfully tight as well.

Undoing the snap on his striped pants, she gasped as he bit her nipple lightly right when her palm was filled with his manhood. Emma was in for a treat tonight.

"This is nothing like the stable boys of my past, she thought, this is a real man—a man that is going to make me a woman," she mused in anticipation. Whit stopped attending to her nipples for a second and Emma moaned as the cool air hit her where she was wet from his saliva. He reached down and took off his pants, followed by his shirt, and she marveled at his body.

"He is so beautiful," she thought. "He really is the man of my dreams." She pulled her ruined dress over her head and slipped off her bloomers.

The couple stood on their knees on the pile of cushions and he put his arm around her waist, pulling her close. With their bodies pressed up against each other, she could feel the length of his manhood throbbing against her curved belly.

"I can't wait to feel that inside of me," she whispered to him, giggling.

"You have to wait though," he said, grinning wickedly at her, and pulled her down to the floor. Whit rolled Emma onto her back and parted her thighs, sliding up between her legs to kiss her soft belly. Slowly petting her legs, and reaching under her to squeeze her bottom, he tortuously teased her until she was begging for more. He blew his hot breath onto her, seeing how wet she was. Finally, after ages of torture, or so it seemed to Emma, he leaned forward and kissed her, running his tongue slowly around her, and inside of her, then gradually faster and faster, putting pressure on the center of her womanhood and flooding her body with sensation.

Emma stretched her arms above her head, arching her back and feeling full of joy. She sat up, and kissed Whit, tasting her juices on his mouth, relishing her own flavor combined with the sweetness of his kiss. She passionately sucked on his lower lip as they kissed, and slowly started to kiss his cheek, his ear, licking and nibbling on his earlobe, kissing lightly down his neck. Whit moaned in response, and Emma continued her journey downward, pausing to lick his collarbone, nuzzle her cheek against the hair on his chest, and kiss his bellybutton. Whit could feel Emma's hard nipples brush against his thigh as she continued to kiss and lick his body. He reached out to stroke her silky hair, and she continued to torture him just as he had done to her. Aching for her warm, wet lips to be wrapped around his shaft, he arched his back, moving himself closer to her.

"Not quite yet." Her tongue bathed his sac, and taking each of his balls, one at a time, she slowly sucked them into her mouth and worked them slowly around with her tongue. She moved up higher, and teasing him with her breath, she blew lightly on the soft skin of the head of his manhood. The tip of her tongue reached out and circled just the head, making Whit moan with appreciation. Emma wrapped her bow shaped lips around him, and bobbed her head forward, taking half of his length into her. She circled around him, using her tongue to caress the rigid underside of him, putting pressure on his most sensitive spot. Whit gasped, as Emma leaned forward, and suddenly had taken all of him deep into her throat. He could feel the heat, the moistness of her mouth wrapped around him and he was getting near the brink of climax.

"I don't want you to come yet. I want to feel you inside of me."

Not one to argue, Whit complied with a smile. Emma laid down on the cushions on her back, and Whit positioned himself between her legs, aiming his glistening cock toward her juicy hole. Taking one ankle in each hand, he guided her legs straight up in the air, until they were resting against his shoulders. With an encouraging smile, Emma looked at Whit as if to say, "Take me." He leaned forward, putting all of his weight behind the powerful thrust it took to enter her incredibly tight but wet pussy.

"Oh!" they gasped in unison, as the initial penetration feeling overtook them. There was a moment of complete stillness as they looked into each other's eyes and felt as if they were finally where they were meant to be. Emma began to grind her hips around in small circles, letting Whit know that it was okay to continue. He pulled out slowly, enjoying the feeling of suction and the tight grip of her body, then thrust back in, to the hilt. They established a rhythm, their bodies moving in perfect harmony, the fortuneteller's wagon filled with the scent of sweat and sex, and the sound of the lovers' quiet sighs of pleasure.

"I'd like to roll you over," Whit told Emma, and he withdrew so she could move. She rolled onto her stomach, and he instructed her to get on her hands and knees. Obeying, she giggled, as he gave her bottom a light spank. Looking down, Whit took the time to appreciate the sight before him. This lovely girl, on her hands and knees, was completely submissive to him, with her plump, creamy ass before him and her wide luscious hips just asking to be gripped. He reached out, softly caressing her skin, petting her back, contemplating what to do with this woman before him. Emma parted her thighs, a bit impatient, as Whit mulled this over. Sensing her urgency, he approached from behind and guided his harder than ever tool towards her slit. Holding on to her hips, he was proven right- they were the perfect handles to give him some leverage.

"Do you love being a gypsy's lover? Do you love the feel of my cock inside you?" Emma groaned, out of breath, as she squeezed her muscles, bearing down on Whit, proving to him just how much she loved what he was doing to her. Tightly in her grip, Whit could hardly move, his manhood being massaged now from inside Emma's body. He was speechless.

"I want you deeper! Harder!" He pushed forward with all of his might, and Emma could feel his head hitting her cervix, which felt so amazing, she cried out.

"Yes! Whit, I'm coming!" she cried as she continued to rhythmically squeeze down on him with her inner walls. Holding on to her hips for dear life, Whit plunged deeper and faster inside of his treasure, his Emma, letting the wave of pleasure wash over him like the tide. Still thrusting lightly, he slowed down and leaned over her, resting his body on her back, kissing her sweat drenched body, feeling the heat of the moment. They collapsed together on the sea of cushions, gasping for breath.

After a while of lying there, regaining their strength, Whit and Emma rolled over to look at each other, gazing deep into the other's eyes.

"I am so happy that I found you, Emma," Whit said. "We gypsies have been traveling for many years, and I have been so lonely without love in my life. Will you come with me, and be my mystic fortunetelling partner, retelling the story of how we were brought together to the crowds?" Emma thoughtfully pondered this option for her life, as she gently caressed his muscular bottom.

"What are you thinking?" Whit asked, dying to know her answer. She looked at him and devilishly grinned.

"I'm at my Whit's end." Then she laughed and said, "Of course I will join you, all I have here is my cabin, and I own this land. I will keep my house, and we can come here in the winters, and travel in the warmer months. Together, we will have a home with each other, no matter where it may be- around the campfire or next to the hearth, as long as I am with you, I will be where I am meant to be." Whit breathed a sigh of relief that she said yes, she will be with him. They shared another passionate lover's embrace, kissing for eternity once again.

"I don't know about you, Emma, but after all that vigorous fortunetelling, I am very hungry," Whit said, his stomach growling. She laughed and felt the rumble of her own stomach too, and they realized it was now well past dark, and past the dinner hour. They redressed, Emma donning a pair of trousers and a loose fitting shirt of Whit's since her dress with in shreds. The couple emerged from the wagon to the cheers of the band of gypsies still dancing around the fire.

"Come join the party!" they yelled.

"You must be starving!" With a roar of laughter from the crowd, they blushed and joined the group, spending the rest of their days drinking wine, eating food, making love, and joyfully dancing, celebrating their new-found happiness in each other.

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