The night was haunting with its shades of dark shadows overlain with lacey patterns of moonlight filtering in through the ancient oak spread out like a canopy above me. Leaning against the rough trunk of the tree and feeling its hard scratchy surface against my back, I sat there, feeling the pulse of the Earth Mother beneath my hands I had pressed to her surface. Skin glowing creamy where the moon kissed it in dappled patterns I closed my eyes listening, straining for a sound that I was so desperate to hear. The light from the lantern I had brought with me flickered dimly.
Without realizing it I clenched tufts of grass, leaves and deadfall in my palms, my breath shallow and as silent as I could make it. I began praying in earnest for his safe arrival. These were dark and dangerous times for anyone to be out at this time of night and worse to be caught within the ancient Sacred Circle of Oaks. To be caught here carried with it the penalty of death for those not introduced to the circle. He had told me long ago that he had been introduced, I on the other hand had as of yet not. Some yet among us carried on the ways of the Old Ones.
He would come, I knew he would. How could he not? We had been meeting here for the past year now. Today would be the one-year anniversary of our weekly trysts here in the grove. No sound greeted my straining ears save for the chirping of crickets and an owl as it called out a greeting while passing over head in search of its supper. Opening my eyes I looked into the darkness above silently pleading. A chill kissed my skin as a breeze playfully passed over my naked body. I had chosen to honor this night and my lover in this manner, it seemed fitting. I had left my rough linen shift and kirtle just outside the circle where I had taken it off, folded it carefully and left it beneath an Ash tree.
Standing up and walking around the inner perimeter of the circle of gnarled, twisting Oaks, I knew each trees shape and form now from coming here each week for a year. I had marked in my mind their growth, the texture of their bark beneath my trailing hands. They knew me even if the circle had not been made aware of my presence according to the ways of the Old Ones. Oh yes, they knew me and perhaps better than anyone save for my secret lover, their view of me very intimate indeed. A cool mist began to reach with tender tentacles into the grove. Pausing I watched its wraith like undulations. It would be foggy by the time I went home. This fact didn't concern me half as bad as possibly getting caught; I knew my way home in complete darkness even.
A soft coughing sound behind me gave testament that he had arrived. Turning I watched him walk out of the gathering fog behind him, ropes of twisting pale mist yet clinging to him as he strode confidently into the grove. He had always reminded me of someone but I could never place who it was. It always gave me a start to see him, tall, very tall with a wild thatch of dark curling hair upon the most aristocratic and elegant face I had ever seen. He resembled me in so many ways, the same familiar dark Irish looks, piercing green eyes flecked with a bit of the Irish gold twinkled when the light was just right. Right now they did not twinkle so much as they glowed of some unearthly green smoky fires. I stepped towards him and stopped. He was a vision. My body so familiar with his touch was already responding just by the sight of him.
He was staring at me, my choice of coming without clothing achieved a startled look from him and I could see the lusty fire leap into his eyes. "Even after a year" he breathed.
"A year..." I echoed as he walked towards me, hands out before him, hands I knew so well, work worn, rough, tender. The fire in my body grew fanned by just the visage of him. Pulling me against him our bodies spooning neatly fit together as if one and not two. It felt so right to be here with him so normal.
His dark head bent down to reach mine upturned to his. We kissed each other in greeting, as if more than but a week had past, as if our lives now depended on it. Tongues thrusting urgently tasting, tangled together they wove their own passionate dance. Pressing myself closer I felt his back beneath my hands, hard and well muscled, I could feel beneath his rough garments.
Both of us were removing his garments not ceasing our kiss. They fell like discarded rags about our feet and then he was pulling me down to the mossy ground at the base of our tree. Neither of us speaking any words, only the language the most intimate of lovers know. His hands moved against my breast, teasing the puckered nipple, he was enjoying the feel of it rolling it back and forth beneath his thumb. Breaking our kiss and moving to the hollow of my throat he rained his kisses upon my skin, moving down lower slowly, his tongue like fire branding my skin. Squeezing my nipple elicited a gasp from me and a chuckle from him. I pushed my hips up towards his body showing my desperate need of him. He laughed slowly and squeezed again, harder this time. Gasping he chuckled, his other hand supporting him he looked down on me from where he lay upon me. "Hot... so hot you are my witch."
I traced my hand along his stomach, its little pooch there well known to me, lower across the path of hair that lead in a direct line to his throbbing swelling member. Grasping it in my hand it was my turn to be rewarded by a sigh and a small moan of anticipation. My other hand cupped his heavy balls and gently teased him. "Woman... you're the death of me"
He lowered himself slightly grasping my turgid nipple between his teeth and gently bit down grating his teeth against it softly at the same time his hand found my wet nectar between my legs. He rubbed against my clit with the side of a finger and then plunged one inside my slick wetness. Thrusting my hips up to meet him I wanted him to impale me.
"Not so fast dear one..." he stopped doing what he was doing, shifted his weight so he was on his knees. He parted my legs with one of his knees and then knelt between them. With one large hand he grasped my two and pinned them above my head. "My turn my little witch. My turn to play. He reached back to the pile of clothes there and felt for something. Finding it he brought it up for me to see, his belt. He smiled down on me. I looked at it then met his eyes. "Like I said, my turn." Pulling my hands he drug me to a sitting position. "Put them behind you my love." I hesitated only a moment and then complied. "There's a good girl then." He quickly strapped my hands behind my back at my waist.
With one hand behind my head he pushed against my chest gently. "Lie back, let me have my way with you..." I was laying upon my hands but I didn't mind. He was now bent over my dark moist slit his tongue gently probing, teasing my clit and my labia. His other hand was massaging and kneading my breast. Inserting first one, then two fingers into me vibrating them and twisting up and down I moved against his hand needing more, gods I needed more. He chuckled. "Not enough?" I shook my head. How could I convey how desperate my need was? No words could convey the ache that filled me so exquisitely with such sweet painful need.
