Travelling Folk Series Pt. 02

"I don't know. I don't." The man, obviously named Paul, replied.

He was good looking, Chris thought. He had a little grey hair around the temples and little creases in the skin around his eyes. Eyes that seemed to twinkle, especially when he looked at the women. Chris was certain she'd seen the woman before.

"Don't mind him." The woman said taking his arm. "He's always grumpy when we tend his families graves."

"I'm not." Paul protested.

"Yes you are. Now be told."

"Yes, Miss." Paul said resignedly. "Bloody school teachers." He muttered under his breath.

"Bloody Head School teachers." The woman corrected. The woman looked long and hard at Chris.

"Well, we won't hold you up." John said, fearing a domestic incident was brewing between the couple. "Thank you very much."

"A pleasure." Paul said, leading the woman across the road and up a narrow lane.

As they watched, his hand squeezed one of the woman's ass cheeks.

"Paul." The woman said pushing his hand away then sliding her arm around his waist. "We haven't time for that."

"I'm sure we could squeeze it in." Paul replied placing his own arm around the woman's back and resting his hand on her hip.

They didn't catch the women's reply but they saw her tilt her head to rest on Paul's shoulder.

"That's sweet." Chris remarked as then went back to the bike and collected her bag and stowed the helmets and goggles. "Come on, let's go."

Part 3

Pat looked up at Joe's face as he thrust in and out of her. He looked so serious, then he noticed Pat's gaze and his features relaxed into a smile. A smile that touched his eyes. Pat squeezed his cock with her fanny. Joe slowed his movements, breathing deeply as he did.

"That's good." He gasped.

Pat lifted her hips from the bed and squeezed again finding muscles she hadn't been aware she'd possessed until then.

A low groan escaped from Joe's lips and he began moving faster. Pat wrapped her arms around Joe's back and pulled herself up from the bed, her breasts squashing flat against his chest. Her breath caught in the back of her throat. Every muscle in her body seemed to go into spasm as her pleasure peaked. She rode the top of the wave for what seemed like an eternity then, feeling Joe's cock jerking inside her, relaxed back onto the bed.

She felt warm, relaxed and content. Joe had stopped moving but remained above her, his cock inside her, looking down into her eyes.

"Yes." He smiled. "I could get used to this."

Pat moaned her disappointment as Joe pulled his cock out of her and stood up.

She watched him dress. Lying on the bed as he'd left her. Knees bent, thighs apart, her fanny gaping wide open for all the world to see. Well, Joe anyway.

He looked down at her then sat by her side on the bed. He ran a finger along the outer lips of her fanny then pushed it inside her. Her ass cheeks tightened as she arched her back. Joe worked his finger in and out. Pat closed her eyes and smiled.

"Happy?" He asked, sliding a second finger into her.

"Oh." Pat's hips jerked slightly. Then she gasped. "Yes."

Joe spread her lips wide with the fingers of his other hand and looked down at the moist, pink flesh he'd exposed. A small pool of his cum was gathering at the base of her hole and starting to dribble out so he pushed it back up inside her with a fingertip.

Pat opened her eyes and lifted her head.

"You were leaking." Joe explained.

Pat smiled and lay back as Joe turned his attentions to her clit. First pulling back its little hood he rubbed around it's side and base before applying pressure directly to the pale pink pea.

Pat moaned and lifted her hips from the bed describing little circles in the air. Joe followed her with his finger in contact with her clit.

Pat gasped as Joe's finger moved faster. She held her breath as the pressure built inside her then threw herself to one side, closing her legs tight, as it peaked.

She sobbed, gasping for breath.

"Are you alright?" Joe asked, concern in his voice.

"Of course." Pat said and turning sat up and kissed him. "That was wonderful."

With her arms around his neck she looked into his eyes.

"I've never had, felt, anything like that before." She kissed him again.

Joe disentangled her arms, kissed her on the forehead and stood up.

"Must go to the bank." He said opening a drawer and removing a metal cash box.

Opening it he removed a wad of notes and counted out twenty-five pounds.

"Here, this is yours." He said, handing it to Pat.

"You don't have to pay me."

"It's what we agreed and you've earned it."

They both smiled.

"Come on." Joe held out his hand to her. "Get dressed."

Leaving Killer on guard inside the rifle range Pat held Joe's hand as they walked through the Fair ground, past the office block where she worked and into the town centre.

They stopped briefly at a branch of the bank where Joe held his accounts and he deposited over three hundred pounds. She hadn't realised they had taken that much. She said as much to Joe as they left.

"No better then average." He replied. "It's costing a fifty a day for site rent so there isn't a lot of profit when you allow for pellets, wear and tear on the weapons, helpers wages and the cost of prizes."

"Not many people won."

"That was a bonus."

"We'll have to put on a better show from them tonight."

"I don't want them looking at you." Joe said quietly. "Not like last night."

"It's alright." Pat squeezed his hand. "We didn't mind, really."

They continued down the street hand in hand, stopping to gaze in the shop windows.

"You'll need a proper jacket." Joe said suddenly. "There is a place called Riders around here somewhere."

"I know it." Pat nodded. "It's just over the bridge."

"Far?"

"A five minute walk, no more. But I've got a coat at home."

"What's it like?"

"It's an Anorak."

"What colour?"

She hesitated.

"Pink."

"You go outside in it?"

"There's nothing wrong with it." Pat huffed. "Chris has got one."

"That doesn't surprise me."

They crossed the bridge in silence and turned left onto Wylds road. Reaching 'Riders' Joe stopped to study the bikes on display then walked into the shop.

"Pat." Rachel called out from behind the counter.

"Hallo Rachel." Pat called back and walking up to her gave her a peck on the cheek.

"I don't see either of you for ages then both of you in one day. Why aren't you together anyway?"

"We must be growing apart." They must be, she thought, she couldn't remember ever being this long apart from her.

"About bloody time too. You'll never know what it was like being in the same class Pat and Chris at school." Rachel said to Joe as her eyes travelled up and down his body. "Hallo."

"Hallo." Joe replied turning away and looking at the rack of black leather jackets.

"That's Joe." Pat said as if that explained everything.

Rachel looked at her and raised an eyebrow. Pat could feel her face reddening. She turned her head away.

"What did Chris want?" She asked the base of the counter.

"She had a young man with her."

Pat thought Rachel placed a little too much emphasis on the young.

"Yes, John."

"That's right. He said he liked to be called that."

"What do you mean? That's his name."

"Not his first."

"What is it?" Joe said, his head appearing from behind the rack of jackets.

"He doesn't like people to use it."

"Come on." Pat said.

"Alright." Rachel looked around quickly as if she were about to disclose something that might effect life on Earth as they knew it and wanted to check that no unauthorised person could hear.

"It's Royston." She said, hurriedly.

She stepped back with a 'there, I've told you' look upon her face.

"Royston." Joe guffawed.

"Don't." Pat protested. "I think it's a nice name."

"Royston." Joe shook his head and smiled.

"Well I don't think it's funny and anyway it's not his fault, his parents must have given it to him."

"Somebody must of." Joe said handing Pat a jacket to try on. "It's not a name you'd chose for yourself."

Rachel examined the label on the sleeve as Pat put the jacket on.

"That's the right size."

"How do you know?" Joe asked, helping Pat fasten the jacket over her breasts.

"It's the same size as the one that Royston bought for Chris this morning."

"Oh, Chris has got one as well?" Pat said examining herself in a long mirror on the wall.

"I've sold three this morning." Rachel said entering a figure into the till. "A hard looking girl came in with four rough looking men."

"I think I know who they are." Pat said watching Joe count out a number of twenty pound notes from the roll he carried in the breast pocket of his shirt. "Are you sure? It's very expensive."

"I want you to have it."

Pat stood on tiptoe and kissed Joe's cheek.

Rachel handed Joe a receipt for his money and cut the tabs from Pat's jacket with a pair of scissors.

"Do you want it wrapped?" Rachel asked.

"No thanks." Pat replied, linking arms with Joe. "I'll wear it. Bye."

Outside Joe looked again at the rows of shining new machines.

"Why don't you have a motor bike?" Pat asked.

"I do." Joe replied. "It's at my parents cottage on the coast. I normally spend a few months there during the worst of the winter and any time I have between sites. I'm going there for a few days on Sunday."

"I'd like to see that." Pat turned her head away unsure of the reaction her remark would bring.

"Would you?" Joe asked quietly. "What about your job here?"

Pat took Joe's hand and they left the bikes and started walking back towards the centre of the town.

"It's not much of a job."

"It can be a hard life on the road. I make a living but I won't die rich."

"I don't eat very much and I take up very little room."

Joe walked on in silence. What if she insisted on coming with him when he left? He'd enjoyed her but he wasn't looking for a long or even medium term relationship. But then, he could have had Max if it was just a fuck he wanted. No. When he'd first kissed her the previous evening he'd felt something he'd never felt before. The nearest had been when he and Mike had ridden their bikes from Birmingham to Bristol. They had covered the eighty-two miles in fifty-five minutes. They'd had the police of three counties looking for them. They still were, for all he knew.

Mike.

He missed him.

It was six years ago now. That long? Yes, it must be. He should have watched out for Lucy better. She had been his best friend's girl. Lucy had been either drunk or high ever since. Most of that time with her legs open for anyone who'd give her a joint or buy her a drink. He hadn't wanted the responsibility for another then and he wasn't sure he wanted it now.

"Do you have Chris's pay on you?" Pat suddenly asked.

They'd stopped and she was looking into the window of a Jewellers shop.

Part 4

John slung the strap of the bag over one shoulder as they crossed over the stream and walked up the bridle path.

For fifty yards a high wall ran along the far side of the stream. Where it stopped somebody had built a footbridge across. They stopped and looked.

A lawn sloped up through a series of terraces to a delightful house. The large French windows in one half were open and they could see the couple from the church in an embrace. Paul pulled his lips from the woman's, glanced in their direction and, leading the woman by the hand, disappeared from view.

"It must be nice to be that much in love when your that age." Chris commented.

"Ugh." John grunted.

He thought it was a bit stomach churning.

They walked on. Trees and hedges on one side and the stream on the other. Shortly the trees started to thin and they came to a clearing. Alone, in the middle of it stood an old oak tree. It looked lob sided with two of it's main branches lying on the ground near the base of it's trunk. A trunk hollow with age.

They walked up to it. Everywhere there were initials carved into the bark.

Chris traced the outline of one, black with age.

"A W." She said. "Nineteen hundred and three."

"P W." John said, looking at what appeared to be a list of initials on the far side of the tree. "Nineteen sixty four. Then J F no the F's crossed through and a W instead. And they've carved a heart around them."

"What do you think. J F marries P W." Chris said joining John to study the engravings. "They could have been that couple down there. I'm sure I've seen her before. W?"

"I can't see them carving their names on trees."

"We'll never know." Chris looked around quickly. "Do you have a knife?"

"Yes." John said reaching into a side pocket of his jacket and producing a bright red Swiss Army knife. "I have this."

He opened out the blade and quickly cut his initials R J W into the tree bark.

"And mine." Chris prompted.

"I don't know your surname." John said, cutting the numbers one, nine, nine, nine.

"It's 'A'." Chris said, looking about them. "'A' for Adam's"

"Christine Adams." John said, swirling the words around his mouth as if tasting them.

"Christine Rebecca Ann Adams."

"What's Pat's?"

"Patricia Angela."

"You've got three names."

"I was first."

"Oh." John didn't understand so continued carving until he'd finished the last 'A' in Chris's set.

"Don't carve Pat's." Chris placed her hand on his arm as he lifted the blade again. "She's not her. It would be unlucky."

"Alright." John said stepping back and, folding the blade away placed the knife in his pocket.

They continued up the hill, through an area of gorse and bracken until they reached the summit. Here the soil was thin and such grass as there was had been cropped short by generations of rabbits.

"It is beautiful up here." Chris said, standing on a bare rock and looking back the way they'd came.

"Here's a good spot." John called from a small outcrop of rock a short distance away.

He'd already opened the bag and was removing the contents. Two plastic containers, two cans of Coke and a part used roll of kitchen towel.

Chris came and sat down by his side on the rock.

"I'll do that," she said, taking the plastic containers from him, "I know what's in them."

John leaned back against the rock and watched as she fussed over the contents of the containers. He watched her hands as they moved. She had a look of concentration on her face. Her pretty face with the slightly turned nose framed with light brown curly hair. She suddenly looked worried.

"I hope you like it." She said offering John some kitchen towel and a sandwich. "They're Ham and mustard and lettuce and tomato."

"They look great." He replied, taking one and biting into it. "Taste good too."

She offered him a second sandwich when he'd finished the first.

Taking it, he asked.

"Aren't you eating."

"Not at the moment. I'm not hungry." Chris replied.

She didn't know whether she was or not. Something was turning summersaults inside her each time she looked at him. She longed to reach out and touch him. Just to hold his hand. Have him hold her. She pulled the ring-pull on one of the cans of Coke, was splashed by the contents as they fizzed out, then offered it to John when it had settled.

He smiled his thanks and took a sip.

"There's Coke on your face." He observed, reaching into his pocket for his handkerchief.

They both looked down at it and John put it back. He'd seen cleaner oily rags. He leaned forward and used his piece of kitchen towel instead. Chris remained still as he wiped her forehead, her cheeks and down the bridge of her nose. His touch was so light it tickled. She sniffed.

"That's better." John said when he'd finished.

Chris offered him another sandwich.

"Not just yet." He said, "maybe later."

Chris offered the second container. Inside were two apples and some pieces of fruitcake.

"That smells nice." He said taking a piece of cake.

"I made it this morning." Chris admitted.

"Yourself?"

"Of course. I always do my own baking."

"You have hidden talents." John bit into his slice of cake. "Hmm. This is good. I'll get fat if you keep feeding me like this."

Chris decided that she wouldn't mind that.

John finished eating and Chris packed the food away into her bag.

"What shall we do now?" John asked, stretching.

"Can we stay here for a while?" Chris asked in return. "It's nice here."

Leaning back against the rock with her legs straight in front of her and her hands resting on her thighs Chris closed her eyes, feeling the sun warm on her face.

Something was touching her finger. Half opening her eyes she looked down. John's hand was lying on top his own thigh and the little finger was touching her own. It touched it briefly then moved away. It came back again, longer this time, then it was gone. She followed it with her own finger and they touched in the gap between their legs.

Chris turned her head to John's and looked into his eyes. They seemed so big. She blinked as they moved towards her then closed her own as he placed his lips against hers. They seemed to mould themselves together. Feeling each other. She felt his lips open and his tongue flick against hers. She allowed hers to part and his tongue to slide between them into her mouth. It tasted sweet after her cake. She touched the tip of his tongue with her own. They fenced for a few seconds then he pulled his head away. She sighed with disappointment and opened her eyes. John was looking down at the front of her leather jacket. She followed his gaze. His hand was opening the front flap and lifting the zipper lock. He leaned his head on top of hers as his fingers slowly drew the zip down the front of the jacket. The two halves of the jacket fell away as he reached the bottom. His hand was moving under her jumper. She jumped slightly as he touched her skin. A low moan escaped from her lips.

"Are you alright?" Joe asked, there was concern in his voice.

What should she say? Should she let him go a little further? It did feel nice but it was only the second day. She couldn't let him go too far. He'd have no respect for her. But it did feel nice and it had been nine months since somebody else had touched her if she discounted the thirty seconds he'd held her breast for the previous evening.

Perhaps she could let him go a little further.

"Ow." She said as he tried to squeeze his hand inside the cup of her bra and feel her breast.

"I'm sorry." He stammered, pulling his hand away.

Chris thought for a moment that he was going to stop completely. She didn't want that to happen. She turned her head and kissed him on the lips.

"It's alright." She breathed, pulling her mouth from his. "You were a little rough, that's all."

She almost laughed out loud he looked so crestfallen.

"Here." She said, sitting up and taking off her jacket.

"Help me undo this." She continued turning her back to him and lifting up the back of her jumper so he could see the fastenings of her bra.

She took a sharp breath as he pulled and fumbled with the catch until he finally released her breasts. She should have done it herself, she thought, but that would have been too forward.

John placed one arm around her shoulders as she leaned her head on his shoulder. Taking the wrist of his free hand in one of her hands she lifted the front of her jumper and placed his hand upon her belly. She released him and let her hand fall away to rest on his thigh. His hand moved at last, moving up, lifting her bra and settling around her uninjured breast. His fingers moved slowly, gently as if examining a delicate, precious object.

That felt nice, she thought, worming her body against him. He kissed her forehead. That was nice as well. She could feel her nipple growing hard against the palm of his hand and, closing her eyes' let herself drift away. She felt so safe there with him. They were alone in the world. She sighed deeply.