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01/03/12(Tue)07:41 No.32891096 "Don't get any ideas, pardner," she says. You admit guiltily that you already had, long before you'd ever got to the water. Back in the orchard, when you were both still at work. Oh, sure, your chats were friendly, but you could never help but trace her work-built physique, in particular those thighs. She blushes a little as you speak without a care in the world - a tinge of rose in a sea of orange. Your blunt invitation for her to join you for a 'roll in the reeds' turns her scarlet. She says nothing, though, instead leaning down to kiss you on the tip of your nose. For a moment, you honestly believed you'd stolen the eldest daughter of the Apple family with little over a week's footwork, and you murmur a vague compliment about her gorgeous locks, closing your eyes. It's a compliment that's cut short by the sudden and shocking impact of a hoof into the side of your head. Your ears ring and stars explode into the back of your eyes. You open your eyes, and there she is, a mere inch from your face, a furious look on her face.
"Proposition me agin," she warns. But you smell blood in the water. You can taste it too - but that's your own. You lean your neck forward and peck her on the nose, muttering something about how she's cute when she gets angry. At this, she reaches around momentarily for an insult, but she's lost for words. Instead, she releases you with a disgusted grunt, walking back along the bank to retrieve her hat. You're more then happy to watch her glistening thigh as they retreat from you.
Never-mind, champ, your inner monologue says. You'll snag her yet. It'll probably be a bit painful, though.
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