A Wooden Heart

She opened the door as Peter walked up the path. "Hello. Are you ready to do some decorating?"

"Yes, I've been looking forward to it."

The divorcee had donned an old boiler suit prior to Peter's arrival. Clearly she was expecting to work with him. The suit may have been aged, but to the trained eye it looked flattering on Milly. It was probably highly fashionable back in the 1980s, when she had bought it, but by now she filled it much more effectively. That trained eye would also have deduced that she was not wearing any underwear beneath.

Milly showed Peter upstairs and gave him the same clothes she had offered yesterday. This time, however, she turned and walked out of the room to allow him to change in private.

Most of the morning was spent in carefully rubbing down the window frames with sandpaper. Peter, once he got the hang of it, worked very quickly. He simply didn't seem to tire. When the downstairs windows were finished and had been cleaned of any residue, Milly showed him where she kept a ladder in order to reach the upper windows.

The bedroom windows weren't very high, but Milly though it only right that she held the ladder for Peter. She particularly enjoyed the closeness as he made his way up and down the rungs.

They finished the sanding and stopped for lunch at about 1pm. The work had been warm and Milly had gradually pulled the zip on her boiler suit lower in order to aid cooling. By the time they reached the kitchen, she was showing a large amount of cleavage.

"So, what do you fancy? A cheese-salad sandwich? How about a beer?"

"Yes, thank you." Peter sat on a stool and Milly fetched a beer from the fridge. She opened it and handed the bottle to him. He began to sip the liquid while he watched her prepare the food. He had noticed that her garment had been unzipped as she got warmer and now wondered if he should undo a few buttons himself. He didn't feel the heat in the same way -- indeed the warmth of the sun on his body energised him. He unfastened the shirt to about half way. Milly noticed and, although she was trying not to be obvious, was drinking in the sight of his firm muscles. She began to feel warm, in a very special way.

Lunch continued in pleasant conversation, mostly from Milly's side. Peter mostly asked questions and listened carefully to the answers. Although 45, she felt like a schoolgirl again and realised that she was gabbling. It seemed a sensible idea to get back to work.

Milly showed Peter how to use the brush, how not to put too much paint on at a time and how to stroke gently. He quickly understood and worked quickly. Whereas Jim would normally take at least two days, he was going to be finished in single one.

When he had finished, Milly took him into the kitchen and explained how the brushes should be cleaned and stored. She told him that she had been shown how to do this by her father and had never forgotten it. "In fact," she told him. "I would do all of the painting myself if it wasn't for the ladders."

The boiler suit had been zipped back up to a more modest level while they were outside, but once they came inside it started to descend. By the time she had closed the cupboard on the paints and brushes the gap was revealing her navel.

"I don't know about you, but I could do with a shower." She thought for a moment, seeing but not understanding that Peter appeared not to perspire at all. Indeed, from what she recalled of last night, he had only a faint aroma of... what? She wasn't sure. A slight hint of oil mixed with something else? But no real body smell. She shook herself out her reverie. "Come on," she said.

In the bathroom, Milly opened the door to the large shower compartment and turned it on. It was already set to the temperature she liked, so she shut the door and allowed it to reach the correct heat. Turning to face Peter, she smiled a naughty sort of smile and unzipped her boiler suit the rest of the way. She shrugged the garment off of her shoulders and pulled her arms out. The garment dropped towards her ankles, where she shuffled her feet and kicked it off. "Are you going to join me?"

She stepped into the shower and manoeuvred under the oversized shower head. Peter watched for a moment and then undressed. He didn't know what effect a shower would have on his body, but he thought it would be interesting to find out.

The shower door opened and Peter stepped in. There was plenty of room for both of them.

"Here," she said, handing him a bottle of shower gel. You can do my back for me." Peter had been watching Milly soaping and massaging the suds into her breasts. He squeezed some of the liquid onto his hand and she turned away from him so that he could begin. He started at her shoulders and gradually worked down. Milly shivered slightly at his touch and her breathing came in short gasps. He reached the top of her cheeks and because she hadn't told him otherwise continued.

Her feet shuffled apart and she bent slightly forward as Peter stroked her bottom. As his hand slipped into the crack, Milly bent even further forward, allowing his fingers travel further round between her legs. He understood that she was enjoying this, but he had not finished washing her, so he continued down her legs until he reached her feet.

Milly turned back to face him. "Stand up," she ordered. "Now wash my front. And take your time." This was almost in a whisper.

Peter did as he was told. He found it difficult as Milly was beginning to writhe a lot. As he neared her pussy, she opened her eyes and looked straight into his. That bit needs a lot of washing. Make sure you do it properly. Don't stop until I tell you otherwise."

His hand stroked down and round between her legs. One of her hands flew up onto his shoulder to stabilise herself. The other rested on top of Peter's and guided it to where she wanted. As he rubbed, her legs parted more and she began to moan. "Push a finger into me," she groaned. "That's it, finger fuck me." She guided his digit it in and out of her vagina, while the palm of his hand rubbed across her clitoris. Eventually, her second hand flew up onto his other shoulder and she held on tightly to prevent herself falling to the floor as she came. Peter slowed his pace and finally removed his finger.

It took a couple of minutes for the woman to recover. While she did, Peter took the opportunity to study her body closely. He was fascinated by the way the water formed in droplets on the skin and then ran downwards. The hair looked thick, but was made up of thousands of thin strands. The way the flesh moved about under his touch. All this was imply amazing.

They stepped out of the shower and towelled each other down. When they were dry, she asked him, "Is there anything you would like?" She was somewhat taken aback by his reply.

"No thank you very much. It's been a very pleasant day, but I think that I should be getting back to my father now. It's getting late."

Milly couldn't understand. "Why doesn't he want to fuck me?" she thought. "Or at least let me give him a blow job?"

She watched him dress in his own clothes and then, because he thought it was the right thing to do, he walked over and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you for having me, Milly. Goodbye". He turned and walked out of the door and the house.

*****

Chapter 7

"Can we go please, father? I think I would like that. It would be interesting."

"Well, I haven't been to the Circus for forty years or more. I suppose it would make a nice change. Why not?" said George.

Later that evening the two men set off for the field on the other side of the village, where the circus tents had been set up. It took them about an hour to get there and it was already dark, so the bright lights could be seen from some distance away. Fortunately, they had brought a torch with them, although Peter didn't appear to need artificial light. His eyes seemed to work as well at night as they did during the day.

As they neared the Big Top, they found themselves walking along with crowds of local people. A car park had been made out of a neighbouring field and even more people were heading from that direction.

Joe had been watching the arriving customers carefully and smiled when he saw the tall figure of Peter. He had been thinking about the young 'man' and had plans for him. But that was for later; now he had to put on a show that would make him want to run away with the circus.

George and his son sat in one of the front rows, right by the ring. Peter was impressed by the way that the enormous tent was held up and kept looking at the mechanics of it. Just inside the ring was a circular cage, reaching up to a height of four metres. Leading from a curtained entrance at the side of the canvass, was a metal tunnel which was connected to the cage. There were a number of round boxes positioned inside of the construction.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed and there was an elongated drum roll which came from a band area somewhere above the curtained entrance. A spotlight switched on and there in the centre of the ring, illuminated by the beam, stood Joe the Ring Master. Dressed in a black top hat, long frock coat with tails, a red waistcoat and white trousers, he looked a commanding figure. His moustache was the finishing touch (which he hadn't been wearing when Peter saw him last).

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls," he began. "Welcome to the Circus! Tonight we have an amazing range of entertainment for you. Please feel free to clap and cheer as much as you like!"

The audience dutifully applauded his opening speech. "And now; on with the show! Direct from the jungles of Africa, comes Alfredo and his assistant Jenny!"

The spotlight was extinguished and some movement could be perceived, but not seen. Then the lights came up and where Joe had stood was now a man in riding boots, jodhpurs and an ornate jacket covered in delicate braid and polished brass buttons. In one hand he held a riding whip; in the other was a wooden chair. The man strutted around inside the cage cracking the long leather implement.

So impressive was his presence; that at first nobody noticed his assistant standing in the corner. When he introduced her she stepped out from the shadows into the bright lights. She appeared to be wearing very little in the way of clothing. In essence, she wore a thong bikini over a nylon body stocking. Her hair was piled up, with a sparkling tiara wrapped around it. The costume itself was covered in sequins and coruscated as she walked. When Jenny turned, she revealed a shapely and firm bottom. Intriguingly, a seam ran up the back of both legs and disappeared beneath the brief waistband.

With a slight scraping sound, the cage doors at the ends of the tunnel were lifted and the lions came loping into the ring. The lion tamer gave indecipherable commands accompanied by cracks of the whip and the animals obediently arranged themselves on the round boxes. He walked to each of them and caused them to sit up on their haunches, with their forepaws held up as if they were a begging dog. The male was teased a little, making him roar his disapproval, but still he remained where he had been sent.

The show continued, with various lions leaving their box and performing. Then came the finale; Jenny stood between the two tallest boxes holding a large ring. As if by magic, it suddenly became a circle of fire. One by one each of the lions leapt through the flames. As they finished they immediately made their way back out through the tunnel.

Alfredo and Jenny took their bows. As circus hands began dismantling the cage they walked away from the ring the clowns came out to entertain. Peter was intrigued to see how their antics made everyone laugh. Even his father beside him was chuckling. There appeared to be lots of water, foam and trickery involved. At one point a clown had been drenched by a bucket. He then picked up another container and chased his assailant. When he threw the contents the other clown ducked and seemed as though the audience were going to be soaked. But the bucket was empty save for confetti. The audience roared.

The evening went quickly. Tumblers, jugglers, acrobats, more clowns, dogs and horses all took their turns. The women were invariably scantily clad, but the men remained pretty much fully clothed. Peter found this discrepancy interesting and wondered why it was.

As the show was beginning to wind up and all of the performers were coming on for a last bow, somebody tapped Peter on the shoulder and passed him an envelope. It was Jenny. She was still wearing her costume, but had put a robe over the top. "The Ring Master asked me to give you this," she said, then walked away quickly.

"What's that?" asked George.

"I don't know. Jenny just gave it to me. It's from the Ring Master."

"Well, you'd better open it and find out what it's about."

The short note inside was hand-written by Joe and invited Peter to come back to the Circus the next day, where he would be shown 'behind the scenes'.

As the two walked back home along the darkened lane, George said to Peter, "I can't imagine why you would want to go there again tomorrow. What you saw in the ring is the best part. The sideshows are just a way of grabbing people's money. In reality most of it is a messy hard job. I wouldn't bother going if I were you."

Peter didn't want to upset his father by disobeying him, but he hadn't actually forbade him from going, had he? So, the following afternoon, when George was busy working on a new sculpture, he set off. He figured that he would get there and back quicker if he ran, so he loped along at a seemingly impossible pace. He slowed to a walk as he neared the big tent. He hadn't seen the sideshows last night in the dark, but now he could see that there were various stalls where people could test their skills and luck. There was a small queue at one enclosed booth, where the sign read, 'Madame Dumont -- Fortune Teller'.

Walking past the various caravans that the members of the Circus lived in, he eventually came to the one that he had been directed to in the note. He knocked on the door and waited. He heard a muffled profanity and then sensed some movement inside. The door opened outwards and the bulk of Joe filled it, a scowl upon his face.

As soon as he recognised Peter, his manner changed. "Ah, welcome! He bellowed. Come along inside Young man!"

Peter followed him inside. To his surprise, he came face to face with Jenny. She looked flushed and appeared to be finishing putting her clothes on. As she walked out of the door Joe called after her, "Keep it warm for me, I'll see you later!" As she walked away, a pair of panties dropped out of her pocket and fell into the mud.

Joe offered his guest a cup of coffee. He accepted and sat sipping it while they talked. The questions that Joe asked were more about what Peter would like to do with his life, rather than what had gone before. Somehow the showman seemed to known that there wasn't much to his past.

"I want to learn," he said. "I'm interested in knowing... everything. I want to see the world."

"Ah, well you've come to the right place young man. Travel and opportunity are yours when you join the Circus."

"But there isn't anything I can do. I can't tame lions, or juggle, or anything like that. Wouldn't I need to earn some money for my keep?"

"Oh, I'm sure that there are plenty of things that you could do. I get the feeling that you could probably do most of the jobs in the show -- including mine!"

The tour showed Peter where the animals were kept and how they moved them into the ring for each of the shows. He was introduced to many of the shows participants. The queue outside the fortune tellers booth had, for now, petered out and the old woman had put up her 'Gone for Tea' sign.

When she took Peter's hand to shake it she froze and looked down. A dark frown crossed her face and she quickly let go. She stumbled a few steps backwards and put her fist to her mouth. She looked terrified and crossed herself, then turned and hurried away.

Joe smiled, pleased that his mother had seen in the boy what he had. "Don't worry about her lad. It's the nature of her work. It makes her very nervous."

They talked as they walked back towards the road. "It really will be an exciting opportunity for you Peter. You can travel with us; learn all about the Circus, meet people, see wonderful things. You can save all of your money and take it home to your father when you've had enough."

By the time Peter arrived home (having run all the way again) it was getting late, but his father had been so tied up in his work that he hadn't even noticed his son's absence.

*****

Chapter 8

Throughout the next day Peter considered the offer that Joe had made. He hadn't told George about it and by the things he had already said, he knew his father would not approve. But he wanted to find out about the world out there. The limited number of books that he had read had opened his eyes and made him aware that there was so much more to know.

He made a decision; he would leave the house early, before George arose and would leave a note explaining where he was going. Joe had told him that the Circus would be packing up overnight and leaving early the next morning and that if he wanted to go with them he would need to be ready by 7am.

Peter propped the letter on the table near the front door. Unfortunately, as he opened it to leave, a freak gust of wind blew in and flipped the envelope against the wall, where it fell down behind the table and lay out of sight.

When he arrived at the field, almost all of the equipment was dismantled and stowed on the trucks. There was a little bit of heavy lifting remaining, so Joe asked Peter to help. The other crewmen, strong and experienced, were impressed by the ease with which he picked up and carried heavy objects.

Joe invited the young man to travel with him in his Range Rover (which he used to tow his caravan). This was the first vehicle off of the site and the rest of the vehicles followed in convoy. "Where are we going?" asked Peter as they set off.

"Well, this was the last venue in this region. We normally arrive in an area and set up about six sites over two months, then move towards the opposite end of the country to start all over again. Generally speaking, we do South East, North West, Central, South West and then North East. That's where we're headed now. We don't move very fast, so the journey is probably going to take about seven hours. We won't open until the end of the week, which will give us a chance to get posters out."

Peter had never actually seen a map, so he had no idea of where the North East was. But he could understand the concept of time and, having now experience the speed of the vehicle, he could comprehend the distance.

After a few hours of travelling the convoy stopped at a service area. All of the vehicles pulled into the truck stop area. Some of the crew checked on the animals, one opened the front of a vehicle to check the water level in the radiator. The remainder made their way into the 'greasy spoon' style café, where Joe introduced Peter to a full English breakfast. The meal was large and Peter needed three giant cups of tea to push it down. By now he was used to the idea that the food and drink went down and then simply ceased to exist, but others were surprised when he didn't seem to need a toilet break -- especially after the amount he had consumed.

When they returned to the vehicles, Joe stopped and called to Jenny, "Hey girlie, come and ride with us and keep us company." She looked reluctant, but altered course and made her way to the Range Rover. "This is Peter Nocchia, he's joining us. Peter, this is Jenny Cricket."

They all climbed into the car, Joe indicating that Peter should sit in the back, so that Jenny could sit next to the driver. Once more the convoy hit the road.