Witch of the Wild Woods

May 20th - Wednesday

Coasting down the last steep hill out from the winding highway along the Castaic Mountains, Lane gripped the top of the wheel with his right hand. He adjusted the driver's side mirror with his left. It didn't need to be adjusted. Lane needed something else to focus on besides his sister squirming in the passenger seat. They'd taken Luna's 2006, burnt-umber Jeep Compass Limited. It was one of a kind. One of the first hundred off the assembly line, upgraded to a Trail Rated all-wheel drive and over the years updated to feature all the bells and whistles of the 2011 models; sunroof, remote starter, and leather seats.

Lane could only be considered a casual 'car guy' at best, but he remembered all the adventures Luna had told of what happened on her leather seats. Guys. Girls. Guys and girls. It was a miracle of science the Jeep smelled and looked as clean as it did, considering everything that she claimed had happened inside and out.

Luna moaned softly, "I need to rename my vagina." Her fingers slowly pushed themselves across her leather seat before raking them back along the outside of her bare thighs. She wore a sea-foam green, nylon skirt that rode shorter in the front than the back. As Luna continued to inch her fingertips toward her hips, up came the silky fabric. Lane kept his eyes on the road, the mirrors, the winding golden hills; anything but the black boy-shorts Luna wore underneath her skirt. It wasn't that her underwear was exposed, Lane just couldn't keep his mind from wandering across the constellation patterns that ran over the semi-transparent fabric covering the tight lips of her- wait, what did Luna just say?

Lane cleared his throat, "Why do you need to rename your vagina? What was its- sorry, 'her' name in the first place?"

Luna sighed as she continued to run her palms over the outside of her thighs, slowly pushing her fingertips inward and down toward her knees. After exhaling deeply, she pondered her dissatisfaction, "I didn't really name my vagina after a person. The last thing I'd want is a dissociative disorder between me and my vagina. Us girls need to be on the same page." Out of the corner of his eye, Lane glimpsed Luna run her right hand back up to her hip and grip the elastic waistband tightly in her fist.

Lane tried to change the subject, "Speaking of being on the same page, this uncle of yours that works up at the camp; how come I've never heard of him until now?"

Thrusting her hips up into the air, Luna quickly fell back into the leather seat and slid forward. He knew what was coming next. He scanned the road. Perfect timing. A quarter mile up ahead was a rest stop. Flipping on the blinker, Lane eased off the accelerator and drifted toward the exit. He could park and stretch his legs while Luna relieved herself in the Jeep or rest stop bathroom; anywhere out of earshot would be preferable.

Before Lane could exit, Luna reached over and dug her nails into her brother's right thigh. She moaned in protest, "Don't you dare stop."

Gently removing her wrist from his thigh, Lane calmly reasoned, "Look you need to take care of yourself down there and I need to stretch so-"

Luna snapped, "No. I need to feel the speed. Besides, it's been a month since I've let myself go in the Jeep. Keep going. Please." As her breath shortened, Luna started to climb up and over into the back seat. Left leg over first, then the right. Cassiopeia. Orion. Ursa Minor. If his eyes lingered any longer on her black cotton, he'd have run them both off the road.

That typical scrunching of bare feet against leather made its way into Lane's ears as he could imagine the familiar scene of his sister positioning herself into the best angle.

Panting, Luna continued sarcastically, "What bothers me is you boys get all the 'strong' names for your equipment; tool, cock, member. It's unfair. Typical patriarchy BS." The swishing of fabric being pulled across her body was followed by a soft flump as Luna pulled off her tight, rose-colored v-neck and threw the shirt angrily into the passenger seat.

Lane strained to keep his attention on driving. Not watching. Driving. Not crashing. To keep the conversation moving forward, he considered the terms of his genitalia, "Yeah, those are the typical nicknames. They all have a rather utilitarian aspect to them though. Tools are used. Cocks are annoying but necessary. Member is the worst of the bunch; gives the impression that we all belong to some kind of preppy yacht club." In a mock-snobby voice, Lane added, "Oh, I see you've a penis as well? Welcome aboard, you're now a Member of our special club."

Luna chuckled. By this time she'd turned herself over, belly down. In the rearview mirror, Lane noticed her hips rising and falling in time. Her left hand held the door handle in a vice grip. Her right had disappeared under her boy-shorts. In between labored breathing, she continued, "What chauvinist asshole thought it'd be cute to call our womanhood a 'pussy'? I don't-" she broke into an unexpected moan. Catching her breath again, "I don't even like cats."

Taking a deep breath, Lane desperately willed his blood to continue circulating in his brain where it belonged. Arguing in vain, he suggested, "Well, cats are independent creatures. I suppose it's because they don't need constant attention?"

Bucking her hips faster now, Luna cried out in frustration, "Mine does."

Lane stammered, "T-That's, yeah, that's true. 'Pussy' isn't so bad though. Pussy Riot: strong, progressive female rock band. They made the name work for them."

"Nope," Luna said, gasping for air, "Need something-" moaning loudly, "-Stronger!"

Relaxing her body, Luna inhaled deeply and shuttered upon exhaling. After a moments pause and another long sigh, Luna sat back upright. She caught Lane's eyes in the rearview mirror, "I was considering calling mine a dolphin." With a wicked smile, Luna licked the tips of her soaking fingers.

Lane rolled his eyes, "Dolphin? As in, 'You've made it past second base, care to caress my dolphin?"

Luna giggled and lightly punched Lane's arm, "Oh, that's not half bad."

Lane cringed, "No. It is fully awful. It just doesn't feel- Ride my dolphin, maybe?"

Luna laughed, "That's slightly better."

Drumming on the steering wheel Lane rolled the word around in his mouth. It was a decent pun, but he couldn't take the term seriously enough. As Luna climbed back into the front passenger seat she released another satisfied and pleasant sigh.

Lane turned up the radio; 'Blood' by The Middle East slid into its first chorus. He whistled along before finally admitting, "No. Sorry, but I don't think it works."

Luna pouted, "What? My dolphin works perfectly fine. More than fine: like a dream!"

Lane parried, "I'm sure it does, but the term-"

Still sans v-shirt, Luna crossed her arms under her breasts and began counting her reasons one finger at a time; "Dolphins are powerful, one of few mammals who have sex for fun, smooth, always make you smile... you can't deny that if you saw a dolphin right now it wouldn't make you smile."

Lane released a short, annoyed sigh, "I guess."

More rustling in the seat beside him. He didn't want to look. He wanted to drive. He wanted to occupy his mind with organizing the impulsive adventure he'd volunteered to embark on. The budget for gas, food, lodging; these little mundane elements of control helped keep Lane calm and happy: Zen. Ultimately, he couldn't ignore the sight of Luna's exposed Dolphin in the passenger seat.

Having pivoted in her seat, left leg up on the center console and her right spread to the side, Luna held down the elastic waistband of her panties with her thumbs. With a completely straight expression, she asked, "Are you going to lie to my face and say you won't smile right now when you see this dolphin in all its glory jump out of its cotton tank?"

Luna's lips were parted only slightly, revealing her thin labia-minora. She looked like a tulip ready to bloom, uncontainable. Only a shade lighter than the rest of her cool-brown skin outside of Luna's bikini line, a small patch of dark hair was left unshaven: neatly groomed into an equilateral triangle just above her pussy. Dolphin. Whatever she happened to call it.

Without question, it was indeed glorious.

Lane never had a strong spiritual side. They'd never even gone to church when their parents were still around. Yet, there was something about the artistry, the design of Luna's body that allowed him to consider a Higher Power. It wasn't just a vagina. It wasn't necessarily because it was his sister's vagina, or that it was the first one he'd ever seen. Beyond the physical presence of Luna's womanhood, the idea that someone would even want to share their most private space with Lane was the turn on. Or, more appropriately, 'A' turn on. If was turned on.

He wasn't.

Luna didn't count. She was, in fact, Lane's sister. On the other hand, Lane's eyes kept wandering, following the arrow of pubic hair pointing downward. Each second his eyes lingered, Lane's brain kept snapping him back to the job at hand; 'You're going seventy-five, eighty, eighty-five on the freeway. No, my heart's not pounding. Yours is. Shut up Brain, I'm driving.' Focus. He was driving, but Lane was also undeniably smiling from ear to ear like a loon.

With Lane's attention fully back on the road, Luna pulled her panties back up and readjusted her skirt. Then she stopped. She frowned, "You're right. Dolphin won't do."

Lane scoffed again, "And why is that?"

Luna reclined her seat back. Folding her arms and cupping her breasts, she tilted her head back, "Well, for starters, you can't eat a dolphin."

Lane grinned, "Technically, you can eat a dolphin, it's more a matter of should you?"

Flopping her hands down onto her thighs, Luna sighed, "One should never have to question whether they should want to eat a vagina. Would you like a drink of water? Yes. Do you want to breathe? Yes. Would you like to eat out this delicious vagina? Yes."

Lane considered, "Maybe we're looking at this the wrong way then?"

Luna perked up, "We? Are you fully participating in rechristening my vagina?"

Dismissing Luna's overly dramatized flirtation, Lane's train of thought had already left the station, "It doesn't have to be an animal, right? How 'bout a fruit?"

Drumming on her thighs to the beat of the chorus on the radio, Luna agreed, "I've been known to crave a banana from time to time. Sure. What fruit though?"

Now that there was some semblance of a puzzle behind his sister's ludicrous curiosity, Lane could focus on both the road and vaginas; "What about a peach?"

Luna shook her head. "That's a white-girl vagina. Plus, I don't like the idea of having a big pit in the middle of my-"

Lane jumped in, "Kiwi?"

Luna considered, mouthed the word, and pulled down her panties again to visually compare and contrast. Satisfied, she nodded, "Petite, beautiful, brown, fuzzy but not too hairy. Juicy and sweat. Bro-Bro, I commend you on your choice of vaginal-fruit association. Now..." Spreading her legs up on to the dash, Luna declared in her French accent, "I, Luna Apolloine Woods, re-dub my womanhood... my Kiwi." Pointing two fingers out like a sword she tapped first the right lip, then crossed to her left.

Lane played along, "Rise, Dame Kiwi!"

Thrusting her hips into the air, Luna shouted in French, "Reine Kiwi!"

The passengers of the minivan passing Luna's Jeep starred straight ahead, unfathomably appalled. Lane tried to motion for Luna to lower her hips, but she kept thrusting. As the van finally passed, he noticed the adult in the back seat between the two confused teens while they screamed for an explanation to why their eyes had been abruptly and violently covered. Of one thing Lane was certain; no consolation from anyone in that unfortunate mini-van could have possibly made sense of what was going on in Luna's Jeep.

Speaking of making sense of things, Lane asked once more, "So your uncle, who would technically also be my uncle, who is he and how has he suddenly come into existence?"

Luna rummaged in her messenger bag, "So he's not a real uncle. Obviously."

Lane nodded sarcastically, "Oh, obviously."

Withdrawing a stick of gum, Luna placed the whole stick, wrapper and all on her tongue. Closing her mouth, she mumbled through an explanation, "You've met him before. Remember that medical vendor, Dan, from out Thailand Adventure?"

Lane thought back. That was where it all started. Halfway through his freshman year, they'd taken a detour from life and enlisted in the Peace Corps. Fast-forwarding through all the details, Lane recalled an older gentleman who sold medical equipment. He'd stayed on the compound where they were stationed for weeks at a time during their tenure overseas. Quiet guy. Taller than most. Mustached. That's all Lane could recollect.

With a raised eyebrow, Lane asked for clarity, "I vaguely remember a Dan. How did he come about becoming your- Our uncle?"

Luna continued to maneuver the stick of gum around in her mouth, "When we came back to The States, I reached out to him to be a reference for my nursing application. Turns out he wrote one hell of a recommendation. So..." Luna stuck out her tongue and removed an origami tinfoil bird and placed it gently on the dashboard, "We've stayed in touch ever since."

Lane nodded, genuinely this time around, "So we have him to thank for our new impromptu adventure into the northwest?"

Luna agreed, "Indeed, Ursa-Major."

Lane raised an imaginary goblet with his right hand, "Well then, a toast to adopted uncles, Queen Kiwi."

Luna extended her imaginary glass forward to clink against Lane's, "To adventure!"

Both brother and sister continued to reminisce about times past and speculate about the mystery adventure ahead. Only another eight hours till they made their first rest stop, and Lane could already smell the pine of Redwood State Park.