The Maypole Dance

Fri, 08 May 2026 00:00:00 +0000

The air around Foxlight Highlands State Park’s visitor centre smelled of pine—and today, hot dogs, cotton candy, peanuts. The banner over the visitor centre entrance welcomed the hundred or so people in attendance to the park’s “Maypole Festival”. Laughter and the cheerful strains of a fiddle drifted from the front lawn. Children, their faces smeared with chocolate from the s’mores station, zigzagged around the Maypole, their tiny hands clutching bright streamers. It was the official kickoff to the camping season, by far the busiest day of the year at the visitor centre.

Harper was usually a backcountry ranger, but today all the rangers were here to help out. She stood near the edge of the side lawn, her posture relaxed but alert. She surveyed the happy scene with a professional’s pride. This forest was her home in a very real way; growing up she’d spent more time on these trails with her father than she’d spent in her house. She was a creature of this place, as much a part of the park as the ancient oaks and the chattering squirrels. She caught Alex’s gaze from across the way and her full lips curved into a mischievous, private smile.

Alex, in her own brand of practical-chic, wore a sleeveless linen sheath dress that gave Harper butterflies. She had just rounded the corner from the parking lot and, as she strode across the lawn, Harper admired the way the dress hugged Alex’s curvy figure.

I am gonna marry that girl. A warmth spread through her chest that had nothing to do with the May sunshine. Six months! Almost seven months since that crisp October morning when Alex had turned up for Harper’s [[10-10 Leaf Peeping|guided leaf peeping hike]] and had stolen Harper’s heart before they’d reached the first rest stop.

Harper had a reputation among the other rangers for being a bit bohemian, but even she was surprised by the dizzying speed of it all. She remembered the next day on the trail, afraid but hoping Alex felt the same pull toward her. Then, the way Alex had felt and smelled and sounded as Harper’s clever fingers worked her into a gasping, sobbing, blissful wreck. They hadn’t spent a weekend apart since.

The fiddle player struck up a reel for the Maypole dance as Alex disappeared into the crowd. Harper scanned the crowd, surprised she couldn’t catch even a hint of her girlfriend. Nodding to another ranger, she drifted behind the towering stack of firewood that hid the ‘rustic’ supply shed from the front lawn.

“Hey, City Girl. Skipping the dance?”

“Yeah.” Alex shrugged and Harper’s heart juddered. She’d never seen that dress before and it was doing incredible work, drawing attention to each of Alex’s curves. “You don’t dance,” Alex murmured, stepping into the circle of Harper’s arms. She tilted her head up and Harper responded with a kiss that was ravenous. The taste of Alex’s cherry lip-balm was intoxicating. Harper placed both hands on Alex’s hips—She’s not wearing panties!—and pulled her flush.

Reluctantly, Harper broke the kiss. “Wow, you’re, um, in quite the mood today.”

“It’s spring.”

“I gotta get back,” Harper countered, but she remained where she was, holding Alex’s body firmly against her own.

“It’s just families with carloads of kids.” Alex kissed the corner of Harper’s mouth. “They don’t need you.” Her eyes held a wicked glint that Harper couldn’t read and then she understood why Alex wasn’t hugging her back. Alex had managed to undo Harper’s uniform trousers and she was starting to work them down.

Harper laughed, nervous. “Alex, babe, there’s, like, a hundred people right there!”

“Mm-hmm,” Alex murmured, and sank to her knees on the sun-warmed earth.

Harper’s world shrank to the space between the woodpile and the shed. She tensed as Alex pushed her trousers and underwear down her strong thighs, gathering at her knees.

“Babe,” Harper breathed, but even she didn’t know if it was protest or encouragement.

Alex licked her lips, then her attention turned to Harper’s mound and the fine, golden curls that covered it. She kissed it firmly and Harper had to steady herself, one hand on the woodpile, one on the back of Alex’s head.

“Alex,” she gasped, caught completely unprepared. She bit her lip, hard, to stifle a squeal as Alex began licking Harper’s clit in the utterly languid way she always did. Above, a cardinal broke into song, as Alex made soft, slick noises and happy moans between her legs.

Harper’s breathing slowed, deepened, and her fingers clenched in Alex’s long brown hair as Alex ate her out with devastating confidence. Her tongue traced patterns she’d perfected over long, lazy weekend mornings together. She drove her tongue deep inside Harper, and Harper’s head fell back against the woodpile. She barely noticed her hat tumbling from her head. Alex pulled back with a wet pffah sound. Harper protested softly and looked down, only to see Alex beaming up at her, the lower half of Alex’s face glistening with drool and pussy juice.

“Happy Maypole Festival, Ranger,” Alex intoned, brushing her lips against Harper’s thigh, then she was back between her legs and licking more urgently.

Harper began to rock her hips, grinding with a wanton rhythm against Alex’s face. Her control was fraying, the festive noises from the lawn still reached her, the cardinal was now singing a duet with their mate, but all of these things were so very far away. She could feel the pressure coiling tight in her belly, a fire building under Alex’s expert care.

Harper came with a shuddering cry that she muffled against her own forearm. She bent forward, both hands now firmly on Alex’s head, steadying as her cunt gushed. Alex was making shameless slurping sounds as she finished up—licking Harper clean.

Harper breathed. Harper stared at the ground. Harper held Alex’s head against her crotch.

After an age, Harper relaxed.

Alex rose, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She straightened Harper’s clothes with tender, practised movements. She didn’t speak, just cupped Harper’s face in her hands and kissed her again, a careful affirmation. Harper tasted herself on Alex’s tongue and nearly lost herself again.

“Maybe you do like to dance,” Alex teased.

Harper let out a shaky laugh, her arms tightening around Alex for one more stolen second. “No end to your surprises, City Girl.” And then, with a final, lingering kiss, she smoothed down her uniform and stepped back into the sunlight, leaving Alex grinning in the shadows.

Knotty

Uniform on Knotty Biscotti

The Maypole Dance