Goldie and the Three Bear Brothers

An Adult Take on Goldilocks and the Three Bears

This is my contribution to the E-Written Fairy Tale Anthology. Bittle birds, sornum berries, and psyillfortum juice are my own creations, made expressly for the story; however Jonathann Daval, and the raclette dinner at his in-laws' home, are real.

**

It was a lovely fall day, more of a late fall day, an almost winter day, since there was a distinct chill in the air, as the days shortened relentlessly. There was nothing to be done, however, since it was mushroom season, and there is nothing like sautéed mushrooms, served up with a little crème fraiche, and on top of brioche toast.

Goldie knew her boyfriend Philipp would go wild if she cooked some up for him, especially if she found some wild morels or chanterelles. Then too, there was the old canard, that mushrooms were an aphrodisiac, not that Goldie believed it; still, wasn't there always a germ of truth in the old, time weathered, persistent beliefs? After all, there's zinc in mushrooms, and doesn't that build up testosterone levels in men? Well, anyway, it couldn't hurt: Worst case, they make delicious eating.

After the mushrooms, it should be a simple matter to channel the delight and enthusiasm of the dish to Philipp's loins, and her loins would meet whatever Philipp's could dish out, she was sure. She giggled happily at the thought, even if she would never -- absolutely never -- let such a thing happen before marriage. Fantasizing, however, was fair game, and playfully, teasingly, resisting an amorous Philipp might be a lot of fun.

Goldie was raised with a fierce sense of morality. She knew her purpose on Earth was to reproduce, preferably creating at least three little, well behaved, perfectly dressed, well-coiffed, and well-groomed children. She hoped she could get pregnant on her wedding night. She couldn't wait to have children! She also, although it was top secret, couldn't wait to have sex!

Sure, Goldie gave the boys hand jobs and blowjobs, and we're not talking only Philipp. Goldie did, after all, have a life before Philipp. She let the boys feel her up and a few special ones even got to finger her to the occasional climax. What she really wanted, even craved, however, was the chance to make love with Philipp, real love, with copulation and the whole shebang. Philipp was the handsome love of her life! She was determined they'd be married within a year, even if Philipp so far had no clue of her marital plans.

Actually, the way Philipp behaved troubled Goldie. He acted like a rake, going after every swirling skirt, and -- as far as Goldie could tell -- often succeeding in taking the owner of the skirt to his bed, where who knows what debauchery ensued! Lord knows he had tried exactly that with Goldie, and a couple of times he had come close, dangerously close, much too close in fact, for comfort and for propriety.

Strasbourg was an unusual part of France: It was the only part of France not dominated by the Catholic Church. Goldie was Catholic, while Philipp was Protestant. It would be a mixed marriage. Goldie knew that Protestant girls were much freer with handing out sexual favors, and she was fairly sure Philipp, who was two years older than she was, was "experienced."

To be fair, there were also Catholic sluts, like -- case in point -- her best friend Mary. She even knew that Philipp and Mary had gotten it on once or twice, or perhaps thrice. Well, she liked that Philipp would know what he was doing on her wedding night, and who better to teach him than a slut like her BFF Mary? She had always had Mary tell her the erotic details. Then she would quietly retreat to be alone and masturbate her little heart out.

Philipp didn't care whether or not Goldie was a virgin; in fact, he wished she weren't. He'd like a bride with a little experience, after all, if she were ever to become his bride. Quite frankly, he had his doubts. Most of all, he wanted to lay Goldie now; he didn't really see the point of waiting. Her steadfast hold on her virginity frustrated him, and challenged him.

Maybe such behavior made sense before there was birth control, but in this day and age? If two people were in love, and Philipp knew he and Goldie were in love, or at least he knew Goldie loved him, then why wait? Her blowjobs were great, and they kept him going, but what he really wanted was to fuck Goldie. Fucking some other sluts was fun, but he wanted Goldie! He wanted to fuck her and fuck her and fuck her, and to make her beg for more!

It meant a lot to Goldie's parents, however, that she remain a virgin until marriage, and most important of all, Goldie felt the same way as her parents. Goldie was not a prude, however. A girl couldn't be one and expect to keep a man like Philipp on the hook. She was a master of the blowjob, and she was even considering proposing anal sex, if need be, to keep Philipp hooked. She'd do anything, anything at all, short of, short of, well, you know.

While waiting for Philipp to propose, Goldie continued with her education, so that once she was his wife she would not embarrass him by her ignorance. Alsatian culture had a strong German influence to it, so Goldie studied philosophy. Philipp and she would have fascinating philosophical discussions late into the night. They were moving on from the great German philosophers to the contemporary French ones, such as Foucault and Derrida. Philippe had trouble letting go of Heidegger, however.

One of her most memorable discussions with Philipp concerned the clitoris. She remembered the discussion well. She had explained it was the only human organ, the part of the body, dedicated exclusively to pleasure. It serves no other function, neither reproductive, nor maternal. In his treatment of medicine in the 16th century, Ambroise Paré erased all mention of the clitoris, and when it reappeared in the work of Sigmund Freud, he called it a female penis!

Indeed, as Goldie explained to Philipp, the philosopher Catherine Malabou wrote that precisely because it did not penetrate, it created a whole new erotic space. Not only erotic, it also created new room for intellectual and political discourse. It was at this point that Philipp burst into laughter. That was the moment Goldie began to doubt, just a little, the preordained nature of their marriage, which so far -- after all -- existed only in her own mind.

Philipp was not just highbrow, however, and certainly not always contemptuous of Goldie's feminist ideas. He also enjoyed discussing with her the fascinating case of Jonathann Daval, who strangled his wife Alexia to death, after Jonathann and Alexia ate raclette with Alexia's parents and then, later, argued with her about having sex. She wanted unprotected sex that very night, in the hope of creating children; he didn't. Jonathann then hid Alexia's body in a forest, thermally amputated a foot, and tried to cremate the body, failing miserably. It took the authorities only two days to find and identify the body. He was sentenced to 25 years in prison.

Philipp could not wrap his head around the idea of a woman's desire for unprotected sex driving a man into a homicidal rage. What man would at least not welcome, if only a little bit, a woman wanting sex with him, even if she were his own wife? Given her own experiences, neither could Goldie easily imagine such a scenario. It had to be the raclette; after all, every single media account of the murder always mentioned that a dinner of raclette had preceded it!

The Daval scandal was centered close to Vesoul, not too far from Strasbourg, on the road to Dijon. Goldie stopped making and serving raclette. Why tempt the fates? All the accounts mentioned raclette; maybe it played a role in making Jonathann homicidal?

Getting back to the fateful day of the mushroom hunt, Goldie bundled up. She grabbed her basket, slipping in her guidebook as to edible versus poisonous mushrooms. It simply wouldn't do, it wouldn't do at all, for her inadvertently to poison Philipp, or for that matter, her parents or herself. She'd had her stomach pumped last year at this time due to the occasional inadvertent toadstool, and for sure that was not going to happen again!

Goldie found herself going further and further into the forest, on the trail of those damn elusive mushrooms. The nineteen-year-old little beauty, with her long, blonde hair, and buxom body, was a sight to see, constantly bending over fallen logs and whatnot, where mushrooms were known to hide. The woodland creatures got lots of delightful views of her panties and her nice, round, and firm behind. It was a pity the woodland creatures didn't care. As the mushroom hunt continued, and her basket got fuller, the shadows got longer and Goldie was glad she had brought a flashlight with her.

Suddenly it happened. A damnable bittle bird was eating sornum berries, and bittle birds are messy eaters. They're very messy eaters. Before she knew what was happening a stream of sornum juice was cascading down from the treetops, right above Goldie, hitting her on her dress in the area of her generous bosom. Goldie knew she had at most a half hour before the stain would set. She was in the middle of the forest, and even though it was only 5:30PM in the evening, it was getting darker, and she knew it would soon be pitch black. She had forgotten there was a new moon, on top of everything else.

A beacon of hope appeared. Bizarrely, right there in the middle of the forest, Goldie spied a brightly lit house. It was strange, because there were no roads leading to it, from any direction. She ran towards the house, ignoring the occasional bramble that tore at her calves. She really should have worn pants! What had she been thinking? Oh, right: She had been fantasizing about Philipp and the eventual seduction of him into her bed. Her fantasies would be the end of her! Her Mom would kill her if her special dress was ruined by a sornum juice stain. For her Mom (not her Dad, most definitely not her Dad) such a stain on such a nice dress might even be worse that giving up her virginity in the back of Philipp's old, very old, BMW. She giggled at the thought.

She got to the house, and as luck would have it, it was open, and empty. Time was of the essence: She stripped off her dress, and then saw that the cursed sornum juice had soaked though it, staining her bra, as well. It got worse, a second stain had gone through the dress in a second, more private spot. It had soaked through too, and onto her panties.

Salvation! Whoever lived in the house had a washing machine, and moreover they had the special stain remover, VanishExtra, the only one known to be able to get rid of sornum juice stains. There were now only minutes left. She treated all of the stains, put her clothes and underwear in the washing machine, added the detergent tablet, and started it up. She exhaled, and breathed a deep sigh of relief, before it dawned on her she was naked, standing in a strange house, with all of its lights on!

Goldie got a strange reaction, one she never thought she was capable of: Who was going to see her, anyway? Birds, squirrels, deer, and such? They were all naked, too; she giggled at the thought. They wouldn't care. Goldie in fact loved being naked. She always felt especially sexy when naked, and here, in some stranger's home where she could be discovered at any moment, well -- Wow!

She was feeling sexually alive, being naked in a strange house like this one, in the middle of the forest. Goldie knew she had a piece missing from her sparkling personality: That missing piece was modesty. She felt her naked body held no shame; so what if someone saw it? In fact, the thought turned her on.

Goldie remembered that actual, real people must live in the house. They'd come home and find her dancing around, stark naked. What would they think? What if they were men? Whoops. She ran to a bedroom, closing the door. That did not afford her that much privacy, however, due to the large picture window without curtains nor shades. If they returned from the forest, from the East, they could see her through the window.

Goldie quickly rifled through the bureau's drawers. It must have been a man's bedroom, because she found a rather large Arsenal T shirt. Not everyone in the generalized Strasbourg area has Arsenal T shirts, it being a British team. She didn't have time to wonder about that just then, however. She put The T shirt on, and it immediately fell off her right shoulder, but her neck kept it on her, and her breast was not exposed. It also hung down just far enough to cover her privates. Perfect.

Now dressed, she sauntered out back to the living room, which also served as a dining room. The table was set for three people. There was a pitcher of some liquid refreshment on the table, and she fetched a glass and poured herself one. The drink was a strange shade of green; it almost glowed. She nervously, hesitantly, took a small sip. OMG the beverage tasted divine! She drank her glass with enthusiasm. She had never before tasted anything that was quite so delicious. Perhaps it was how thirsty she was, she rationalized, but still -- bottom line, it was the best drink she had ever enjoyed.

She checked on the washing machine and it still had most of its cycle left. It had a digital readout and it read 47 minutes. Boy, that's a seriously long cycle. She poured herself another glass of juice and settled into one of the overstuffed chairs, turning on the TV. There was static on every channel but one. She supposed that way out here in the middle of the forest there was no cable service. Still, it was strange the only channel the house received was a music only channel, kind of like a German MTV. Well, they were only a few miles from the German border, after all. Goldie sank deeply into the overstuffed chair. It was much too big for a small girl like her.

Goldie tried another overstuffed chair. Better, but the chair was still much too big. She tried the third chair -- ahh, this one was perfect! Goldie relaxed in the chair. As she reclined, the T shirt rode up her thighs, almost -- but not quite -- exposing her blond bush.

Goldie was watching commercials when she heard the howl of a wolf. It was returned with the howl of another wolf. Okay, now she was scared. There was no way she was going to try to find her way home in the dark of night with wolves prowling about! Thank goodness she had found this house, with its washing machine, equipped with VanishExtra, and finally, that totally fabulous green beverage. She hoped the owners of the house would invite her to spend the night. She had finished her second glass of the green beverage and she poured herself a third glass. It truly was a yummy drink!

The commercials finally ended on the TV, and then came a video of Tina Turner singing "Rollin' on the River." That woman really knew how to put over a song. Goldie's fatigue left her and she jumped up and started shaking her ass and shimmying her shoulders, her boobs bobbing around, just like Tina Turner was doing. Goldie felt sexy, being naked underneath the short, thin T shirt, plus the music, but there was something else. She had never felt so sexy before, so seductive. She couldn't explain it, and she decided just to run with it.

When the Bear Brothers finally arrived back home, after a successful hunt, around an hour later, Goldie was still wildly dancing and gyrating to the music on the TV. Now it was Bonnie Tyler, singing "Holding Out for A Hero." She was swirling her skirts around, even if her skirts were just the bottom of her T shirt. She was coming tantalizingly close to exposing forbidden parts, but always managing to avoid it. Still, the Bear Brothers were treated to an almost magical sight with this blonde sexpot, dressed in one of their T shirts, dancing around like a woman possessed. Goldie hadn't even noticed the three Bear Brothers, who had entered their own home stealthily, not knowing what they would find.

Big Bear, always the quickest of the three brothers, glanced over at the table. The pitcher of the psyillfortum juice had been drained. His eyes got big. A large dose of the stuff was four ounces, and there had been 24 ounces in the pitcher. This golden-haired little sexpot had drunk six times the usual dose. Whoa!

He smiled. He nudged his brother Very Big Bear, who tore his eyes from the Goldie spectacle to glance at the pitcher. Very Big Bear also smiled, a small lascivious smile. He glanced at Little Bear, who also gently nodded. It was time.

"Hello, young woman. Welcome to our home," Very Big Bear said. The Bear Brothers were identical triplets, all quite tall, and all muscular, in a natural, sexy way. They were an imposing, almost frightening sight, for a nervous girl who was trespassing in their home, yet they instantly put her at ease by their genuine smiles and welcoming behavior. Goldie jumped with surprise. Literally, she jumped.

Goldie quickly explained what happened, apologizing profusely, and begged their forgiveness, at her trespass and liberties taken, i.e., use of their washing machine, and wearing one of their T shirts. They gave it. They also explained that it was such a dark night, it would be hard for her to find her way back to town, and also perhaps dangerous with wolves on the prowl. They offered for her to spend the night. Goldie smiled and accepted in a heartbeat.

They also of course invited her to stay for dinner, but dinner's main course was slated to be venison. Goldie blushed, explaining she was an ovo-lacto vegetarian.

"No problem. We'll change tonight's menu to raclette," Big Bear said. "With salad, of course."

Goldie immediately remembered the stories of Jonathann Daval murdering his wife over a sexual dispute after having eaten raclette. What if one of the Bear men wanted sex with her later, after having had raclette, and she said no? Would she be murdered, too? She shivered at the thought, even as she realized it was ridiculous. Raclette was never tied to murder. It was preposterous. Or was it?

Goldie decided she was being silly with her worries, and offered to do the cooking, since raclette had been one of her best dishes, before the Daval case made the news. After the Daval case came to light, Goldie had stopped cooking raclette, just to be safe, you know? However, she wanted to do something for the three men, since they were being so gracious, welcoming, and nice. A big discussion ensued about whether or not they should let a guest cook, but once Goldie explained she was in their debt, and that raclette was her specialty, they finally agreed.

The three men relaxed in their chairs, each reading a different novel, while Goldie prepared the meal. Luckily the men had the special grill for raclette, complete with the cheese trays, and they even had all the ingredients, although Goldie, being vegetarian, of course skipped the bacon and the merguez sausages. She made preparing the dinner seem effortless, even if it was rather nerve wracking, to cook in somebody else's kitchen, and for three men, too!

The wine was delicious, and flowed easily during dinner. Goldie kept up a constant stream of nervous chatter, and the Bear brothers, who normally eat in silence, were all taken with the cheerful, anxious, sexpot. Goldie had soiled the T shirt just a bit during a minor accident in the kitchen, and Big Bear jumped up to run upstairs and get her a fresh, clean one. The one he chose was thinner, almost transparent, and shorter.

Goldie thanked him and ran to the bathroom and changed. She was so drunk, and high on psyillfortum juice (which has a Viagra-like effect on women, increasing their libidos, but not affecting their will, nor their judgment), that she didn't even notice one could make out indications of her nipples and areolas, as well as her blonde bush, and even the crack of her lovely behind, right through the T shirt. The Bear brothers noticed, however; oh yes, they certainly noticed!