“Wait!”
She paused her motion mid backswing.
“Can I have them? They’re…like a gold medal in riddling.”
“Ahh. That’s sweet!” Jay would have been content to have her look at him that way forever. She offered the wrinkled tags to him as it dawned on him that he had no pockets or anywhere else to put them. She realized the same thing, taking the time to search up and down his naked body with her eyes to make sure.
“I’ll hold them for you.” She released his hand long enough to tuck them into her small purse, slung diagonally by its slim strap over her shoulder. She found his hand again.
As they walked, neither too sure what to say, but content to people watch and explore a few booths, Jay began to notice more than a few people point the two out. The Riddling Redhead had become locally famous. His chest puffed out and his shoulders squared as his accomplishment sank in.
“Have you gone this way yet?” She asked as they came to a sort of crossroad. Most of the festival was a flattish field of mowed down field grass dotted with temporary stands offering a variety of food, drink, and information on “alternative lifestyles,” but one section extended into a grove of second-growth hardwoods.
“Uh. I haven’t gone very far at all.” That didn’t sound quite right. “I mean, I haven’t explored much. Here.”
Robin was trying if hold back her laugh. Jay took a deep breath.
“No, I haven’t gone this way yet.”
Robin wrapped her arm around his, briefly leaning her head and soft red hair on his shoulder. “I haven’t explored much either, Jay.”
The crowd thinned as soon as they entered the trees. It seemed odd, since the shade and relative quiet felt so comfortable and welcoming. Hay bales with cheap batik tapestries thrown over top were scattered between the trees as makeshift seats. There were a few booths set up in the shade, of a nature more akin to their more peaceful locale.
They passed one where several people were giving or receiving massages, a thin man with a long grey beard playing a soft tune on an odd instrument. A dulcimer? Jay wondered. Another booth held a variety of hammocks and hanging chairs, about half being used by very relaxed-looking patrons.
He became aware of Robin’s soft breast pressing against his arm as she held herself near him. It felt more close, intimate, than overtly sexual. Until now, Jay would have doubted any contact with the object of his fantasies could be anything but sexual.
“Let’s sit.” Jay took her suggestion, since there was a vacant spot nearby. He took one end of the bale, conveniently placed so the leaning trunk of a birch provided a fairly comfortable back rest.
Robin sat close, her thigh against his. “Tell me about yourself, Jay. How did you become an expert on Boobies?”
They both laughed when his eyes dropped to her chest. He shrugged with a grin. He couldn’t remember not being embarrassed any time he’d been caught looking at a girl’s tits before.
“I’ve always liked birdwatching. I spent a couple summers at my Aunt’s place south of Pittsburg. There’s a lake, a creek, and lots of wildlife. She got me hooked. I had my hundredth bird identified by the time I turned eleven.”