The festivals and faires were the best times. The solstice had been the big one for the
summer, and a great way to get introduced to the village. But the rest of them were also
all worth attending for the food and gaiety.
This one reminded me of country fairs I’d attended back home. People brought their prize
livestock to show and compete with, and I wasn’t much into that. I was just there for the
fun. I’d arrived late since I wanted to get my chores out of the way first, and the first
events of the day were already complete.
I wasn’t paying attention to that, being focused instead on a big ice cream cone that I
had just watched being made the old-fashioned hand-cranked way. Then I saw her standing on
the stage-and I was in love.
At first I didn’t realize she was a crossover. Her glasses and clothing fooled me. Nobody
had been willing to tell me how crossovers actually happened, and it hadn’t really
mattered until now. I did know they were usually raised as their animal side dictated, so
seeing one dressed like this was unexpected.
Despite her absolutely amazing bust, it was her eyes that first got my attention. Large
and soft brown, her glasses gave her an intelligent look that I found immensely appealing.
I didn’t think to wonder how she’d gotten them given the low-tech status of this place.
Her face had an exotic shape like I’d never seen before, with high cheekbones, and a very
kissable pair of lips. Her dark brown hair was nicely arranged around a pair of small
horns and large velvety ears that begged to be stroked.
I tried to ignore her bust as I admired her shapely tanned legs below her ultra-short
denim cutoffs, while I wondered if she had feet-or hooves-inside those out-of-place
athletic shoes, so clearly from my world- though this was not a surprise since most people
here have some contact with both worlds. Her strong, tufted tail seemed exactly right for
her.
Although I was trying not to stare, even with the extra height of the stage her short
stature put her barely contained udders at face level. They were wrapped in a cutoff shirt
that must have once belonged to a giant. Obviously bras are not part of this medieval age.
It was too easy to see her multiple bovine inspired teats pressing tightly against their
confinement. I have to admit that they weren’t the only thing now suddenly pressing
tightly against some confinement.
She was shown off as the undisputed winner of today’s milking contest. That might be a
turn-off to most people, but I was finding her very erotic. Now I suddenly wished I’d paid
more attention and been here for the contest itself, which must have provided an even
better view of her assets. I made a note to self to pay more attention to these events in
the future. Her pouty expression barely concealed her satisfaction at her victory here
today. She’d done it the best, and she knew it.
I got the impression was that she was about my age-just entering her sexual
maturity-though I had heard somewhere that most crossovers tended to mature at the faster
rate of their animal side. As such, she might only be a few years old.
I was daydreaming a bit, just thinking about what it would be like to hold her against me
and stroke those soft ears while kissing her inviting lips, when I was pulled out of my
reverie by two older women in front of me.
“Isn’t that disgusting,” the first one said in a loud voice that I believe she intended
to be overheard. “Don’t they know their place?”
“I’m sure it’s just for the show,” the second one retorted, trying to mollify her
friend.
“Don’t bet on it,” the first one shot back. “Although they keep her in the barn where she
belongs, I have it on good authority they treat her like a daughter.”
“Shocking,” the other replied, before they both put their noses up and marched off in
self-righteous indignation.
Life on this side runs by its own rules, and that attitude just expressed is not
uncommon. But I didn’t have it in me because I hadn’t grown up here. Besides, I was more
intrigued by the comment that she had been raised as a daughter. Some crossovers were
reportedly as smart as any person, or so the kids I knew over here had let on in great
secrecy.
With the women gone I realized I was now the center of attention for those lovely brown
eyes. And my rapidly pounding heart just knew this girl was special. There was one way to
be sure. But I looked around carefully before I tried this to be sure I was alone first.
Then I walked boldly to the edge of the stage and said, “Hi,” in my most manly voice.
“And congratulations,” I added. I then held my breath to see what would happen.
Though she looked right at me when I spoke, for an endless frozen instant it appeared
that nothing would happen. It was the longest moment of my life.
Then she smiled at me and replied clearly, “Thank you, kind sir.”
Yes! I thought to myself, wanting to jump in the air and pound my fist, but I didn’t.
Instead, after another nervous glance around to be sure no one had noticed, I tried to act
casual. “How’s it going?” I asked
“Okay, I guess,” she replied sweetly. “But you’re the first person to talk to me.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” she said, making a pretty moue. “Most people don’t have much to say to someone
like me.”
“Those ladies ahead of me seemed to have plenty to say.”
I regretted those words the moment they were out of my mouth. But she just nodded at me
and added, “Yes they did,” so I figured she wasn’t upset with me.
“You’re beautiful,” I impulsively said to her.
She half turned away at that, but I could see her blushing-and smiling. And her teats
seemed to tighten under her top.
“Thank you,” she said softly, still looking away.
I wanted to say more, but just then I heard the noisy crowd of my friends approaching. In
moments they’d see me here.
“Take care,” I said quickly, turning to slip away. “I’ve enjoyed talking to you,” I added
over my shoulder.
“Me too,” she replied to my rapidly retreating back…
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