Anon and the Circus 5: The Gnaw

>Following my beleaguered chat with the three men, I tried to be more familiar with Nancy.  Upon reflection I realized I was as short with her as she was with me.  I found afew things about her: She comes from Boston and has been a carnie for afew years now. She has family back there but is an only child. Apparently she has a cousin that was raised with her so she isn't an only child in a manner of speaking.
>As we talked more we worked better as a team. I found she was more agile where I was stronger.  She could march up a ladder without even needing to hold it while I could lift things, like Nancy plus change.  I could work faster and harder where she was better at abstract jobs.  We started splitting our jobs up in a way that we worked in tandem using our strengths on a single task.
>My thoughts began to drift with tasks become less frustrating.  I found I missed being Mr. straighty. Missed the show of colors, being able to do anything and have it be funny, and the crushing feeling you get in your chest when you have everyone’s attention, as weird as that sounds.
>I got a look at Nancy. It was terrible.  Not that she wasn't good looking but that once I started looking at her that way I compulsively started looking at her more and more.  When I first met her pile of pajama clothing with a goat head sticking out but now I saw her actual body: She was petite, about a solid foot shorter than me.  B cup breasts, standard really.  She was however digigraded with hooves and all. Her thighs were much thicker and stronger than someone her size and it made her hooves feet seem spindly in comparison.  Her butt I retreat looking at the most. It was tight and jutted out with a wispy goat tail sticking up to the sky.  Likely her butt was just a product of the anatomy of her legs but, I began to think she was intentionally presenting it to me.
>That was it really. Nancydancy was now in my mind. It made working with her incredibly awkward, and pretending I didn't think of her as… whatever I was thinking, was more awkward. Still, I got to hang with her which satisfied me enough.
>But then! Nancy came to me just as we were about to start the morning.  Coveralls and oversized work gloves.
>”Hey anon! You got a letter from home!”
>”Wait really?”
>”Yeah, you farmers communicate to truck loads of shit, right?”
>I hung my head and chuckled.
>”Finally I make you laugh! I was beginning to lose hope.”
>”You say funny stuff all the time, what you talking about?” I said.
>”I've never seen you smile at it, though. Maybe you're just one a laugher.” She said wondering.  All I could do is shrug.
>”Wait, so the crap thing…”
>”Oh no” she said while thumbing behind her, “... The fairgrounds that we are renting  from wants us to fertilize their gardens. We actually do have a truck load of shit for us.”
>”Well that's technically manure.” I point out as I slip on gloves and boots.
>”What is the difference?”
>”One you pay to have take away and the other you pay to have brought to you.  I wrote an essay on it.”
>”Where was that, anon?”
>”Farmer college.”
>We began our literal Herculean tasks.  Manure isn't straight crap, usually it's heavily cultivated and mixed with dirt, compost, and aged.  Really it's no more than typical gardening soil beside it's nutrition.
>Nancy was actually half right: It reminded me of home. That reminder bolstered my confidence.
>The last gig was a flower garden. Hydrangeas, rosmallos, and dozens of local wild flowers cultivated to show local diversity.  They were all in bloom, surrounding us in pastel pink, purple, and red explosions.  It was only me and Nancy there.
>We worked in silence and when finished I saw he looking at me with her mouth open like she was about to say something.
>The urges I put aside burst forth.
>I swooped in on her, frantically kissing her. Kissing led to touching her all over, touching led to feeling up her tight breasts, I began to stick my hands down her overalls and she responded by moaning and pulling me close.  I grabbed her ass.  She wrapped on leg around me and licked my cheek sloppily, “Do it, do it anon.” She whispered.
>I maneuver my hands to the front of her pants and give whatever I can grab a honk.
>”Haha, what?”
>I try to smile like I was doing a joke. Yes, a funny joke. With a grip still on her baby-mount I try moving it in a rotating motion. Yes, that's a good trick.
>”Stop, stop, oh God what are you doing?” She said smiling. That smile was the only thing keeping me from just running in the opposite direction.  She began lightly slapping my chest to break it up.
>”You really don't know what to do now, huh?”
>”The most detailed sex education was literally 'Put it in, shoot, and in eighteen years it leaves.” I said. She laughed at that.
>She thought I was joking
>I wasn't.
>I could feel my heart sinking. Was it ruined forever? I felt a hole in my chest and my heart was falling into it.  I felt I had to say it and if I didn't I was going to fall over dead on that spot.
>”Can you… teach me?” I ask.
>”You mean teach you foreplay? How to seduce women?” She said, she had taken on a different smile.  The smile I first saw her with, when she played tricks on me.
>My soul was exposed. There was a castle there of stone. Today has worn it down and nothing was between it and the elements. My mouth opened and unfettered truth came out.

>”N-no… I-I want to know how to work you. Just you… not other women.”
>She lost her smile and her eyes went wide. I think I had just said something that left her speachless. “Wow, you're really serious about me.”
>We were interrupted by Fuggles. He told us there was a staff meet.
>Both of us stiff and surprised, we both marched to the tents like robots.
>”I'll teach you, anon. Tonight, okay?” She pecked me on the cheek. “Probably for the best, you smell totally like sh-manure.” She said and immediately trotted off.
>Fuggles, still behind me, played his slide whistle to escalating pitch.
>Goddang it, Fuggles.