Charlotte goes wading

Charlotte had ****, her gelding refused to come to her, so she must go to it. Adding to her decision no doubt, the cool clear water looked inviting after walking through the hot meadow. She was certainly capable of wading through the shallow ford and retrieve her own horse, but if she ruined her hose or leggings she would have to face the disapproval of her father's older sisters, so her stockings would have to come off.

Looking around one last time Charlotte moved to the shelter of an old willow tree whose draped branches provided a natural curtain that would offer her a semblance of privacy. Sitting on one of the willow's twisted roots she pulled her skirt up past her knees so her fingers could find the drawstring that held her ruffled pantaloons. It took a little more time, and her skirts were lifted even higher on her thighs by the time she worked the knot loose, but the feeling of the fresh air rushing past her legs covered only by the silk stockings was sinfully delicious. Each of the stockings had four tiny clasps that kept the gossamer yellow stockings from sliding down her legs. She marveled at how easily Martha's nimble fingers made the task seem as she attempted to unclip the silver clasps. In the end her stockings were torn from three of the eight clasps, but she was able to slip the silk sheaths off of her long smooth legs.

The feel of the warm sand between her toes followed by the cool clean water sweeping past her ankles was divine. The brook was wide and shallow at this point and the bottom was mostly soft sand and smooth pebbles Charlotte laughed out loud at the freedom she felt as she watched tiny fish scatter as she moved across the brook. For the first time in years she was truly alone; there was no one to tell her how to behave, no one to admonish her for being so brazen or to tell her she was being childish.

Her gelding snorted as she approached but she didn't care, lifting her skirts even higher she kicked at the surface of the water sending a splash of water in his direction. Her aunts Jane and Penelope would be horrified if they saw her like this, the hem of her fine dress dripping and her undergarments thrown carelessly on the strip of sand near the old willow where anyone might see them. Worst of all, Charlotte herself, an heiress of no small fortune, laughing and kicking in a brook like a peasant girl from the far subcontinent.

Finally reaching Copper she caught his leather lead trailing in the brook and after chiding him playfully she turned her lame horse back to the sand bar.

Randy could not believe his eyes when Charlotte first moved to the willow tree, by sliding a few feet to his right he found a gap in the willow fronds wide enough for him to watch as her skirt was pulled higher and higher. Randy was no stranger to women, and had seen many attractive legs bared much more than Charlotte's. All the same, the illicit glimpses of her shapely legs excited him far more than the displays in the bordellos of the Caribbean. Peering through the gently blowing willow fronds only added to his excitement as he saw her remove first her layered leggings and then slide the stockings down over her pale knees and shapely calves.

For a few minutes he completely forgot that Charlotte was his sworn enemy. Watching her emerge from the shelter of the willow into the pool of rippling water Randy could only compare her to the dryads and nymphs of legend. The sunlight glimmered of the ripples in the water as she twirled and danced in the shallow brook. Every once and a while she would lift her skirt high as she kicked up splashes of water and the sight of her delicate feet and ankles were electric.

He remembered bringing Mary to a similar stream years before and watching her twirl and play in just the same way. The memory of Mary dashed the warmth from the moment and he started moving closer to the willow tree where Charlotte had so conveniently removed her undergarments. Staying behind the low hanging branches of the willow, Randy was able to reach the yellow stockings where they lay on the sand. He smiled as he pulled further back into the foliage with the two silky garments in his hand. The fabric was so sheer he could see the outline of his fingers through the translucent material and as soft and light as air. As he brushed the silk over his cheek he caught a hint of perfume and he smiled as he realized that this must be the scent of Charlotte's soft inner thigh.

As he watched her approach, he wondered how long it would take for Charlotte to realize her undergarments were missing, and how she would react to this disturbing discovery.