1. The True Tale of Tam Lin

    Date: 8/31/2017, Categories: Fantasy & Sci-Fi, Author: Tylwyth_Teg, Source: LushStories

    O all you ladies young and gay, Who are so sweet and fair, Do not go into Chaster’s wood, For Tomlin will be there. From some he takes their golden rings, Some left without a thread! Those lucky girls run naked home: he left their maidenhead! The late Autumn breeze stirs the trees around me as I urge my palfrey into a canter. I love to ride: the familiar warmth of the leather saddle on my smooth bare thighs, my long blonde hair streaming behind me, the wind flirtatiously lifting the skirts of my green dress. My horse slows as she mounts the low rise before Chaster's wood and I bring her around to skirt the edge of the dark forest. I can see across the town from here to where my father's keep stands, tall and noble atop a rocky outcrop where the river bends. I slow my horse to a walk and turn her down a bridle-path into the forest. The air is still beneath the trees, and smells of deep earth. Slowly I ride further into the forest, drawing the air deep into my lungs, savouring the stillness of the air, the peace beneath the trees, broken only by the sound of twigs cracking under the hooves of my palfrey. A flash of colour catches my eye. It's a rose, way out of season, with petals as blue as the deep sky at midsummer. It's growing in the crook between two intertwined trees. I bring my palfrey to a halt and dismount, knotting the reins around a sapling. As my boots sink into the soft loam of the forest floor, a weird thought strikes me and I am suddenly overcome with a desire to ... strip off all my clothes and run naked through the forest, the soft soil embracing my bare feet. I pause and enjoy the reverie: imagine tugging gently on the ties at the back of my dress, slipping the fabric over my shoulders, my arms from the sleeves. It would fall to the ground under it's own weight. I imagine easing my feet from the snug embrace of my leather riding-boots. In my mind's eye, I stand naked in the woods, the cool forest breeze caressing my bare breasts, between my legs... I feel a shudder of arousal which brings me back to the present and I remember the rose. It's quite difficult to get to from the ground. I have to lean on a branch and bend right over between the trees. I can't help but catch my dress on other branches and they tug at my clothes as I lean over, as if trying to undress me. My hand is just closing around the stem of the flower when: *CRACK*! The branch I'm leaning on snaps suddenly and I am pitched forward between the two trees! I jerk my hand away from the flower to avoid crushing it but my hips wedge painfully, my skirted arse in the air. My hair has fallen forward, all about my face, the tips of my long golden locks caressing the soft dirt. I plant my hands to ease myself out when a sudden and surprising strong breeze fills my skirts, lifting the hem of my dress, up over my arse and onto my back, fully exposing my milk-pale rump and glistening red lips. I am suddenly very thankful I came out here alone! Waggling my arse I wriggle backwards ...