North East Fae Ch 01

Drew pulled his collar up closer to his ears. "What the fuck am I doing here? Its fucking cold, the snow is blowing, and I want to go fucking home" he thought. His angst was not North East, Maryland, the little town he had rented an apartment in. It was his desire for home in California. It's not rebuilding a prison and doubling its size, all while its 110% full of inmates, with a short staff. It's none of those things. It's his fucking life. It's his desire to be in California. It's his desire to be home. It's dealing with his ex-wife, fucking troll, and her ugly games she plays with the kid's emotions. It's his ex-girlfriend, dumping him because he was too "needy". He felt he was not needy, but just his attempting to communicate what his needs were. Well, he did understand one thing, she had the pussy and therefore ruled the relationship. That relationship ended badly and sadly for many reasons. And worst of all, he had given up his dog! He loved that dog! But he decided he needed to be honest. He was looking at long stressful hours, living out of a small apartment. He loved the dog so much, but it would not have been right. He gave her up to old friends, past neighbors, that had land, two young children, that loved her, and her best bud Bella, a basset hound.

So here Drew was, overseeing the construction and renovation of a local prison, living in a cute little town in North Maryland, alone, sad, and decidedly drunk. The snow had started to blow and lay before he entered his favorite bar. He had spent a couple of hours drinking, eating, and getting his fill of the very limited female bar flies of North East. The only prospect was the bartender Jenny and she had the intelligence of a sheet of paper. If Drew had one failing, it was his attraction to intelligent females. "God, can I just once do dumb?" he stated into the wind.

It was blowing now, but he handled the cold well, and he was in no hurry to get back to his apartment, empty of love, empty of passion, and generally, a distant office of his project. "Fuck!" he yelled into the horizontal snow. The snow was a foot thick and due to the time of night, midnight, had not been cleared. But he was prepared, like the proverbial boy scout. He had worn his snow boots, wool socks, lined jeans, turtleneck, his winter leather coat and his felt Stetson, now holding and inch or so of snow. North East was a quaint little town, worn around the edges, all wood in need of some paint. But the little town kept itself up, clean, with kind folk. It had 5 good restaurants, within walking distance, a generally nice place to live. But now he was plowing his way home, past the old want-to-be Victorians. Past the bait shop, with the Bait vending machine lit and ready to dispense 24 hours a day. Down the sidewalk stepping and pushing through 18 inches of fresh fluffy snow.

He finally came to the stone wall. It was at St. Mary Anne's Episcopal Church, built in 1742. That was same year that Drew's ancestors came to the shores of America. For some reason he held the cemetery and its hallowed ground in reverence. The cemetery always held a certain respect for Drew, not that he had a clue why. He was a lover of history, but there was something more about the place, that made him want to cross himself, not that he was Catholic. The bedroom windows from his second-floor bedroom looked over the cemetery, but he avoided looking. Drapes pulled tight; blinds down flat. Was it out of fear? Respect? Or something else?

He continued to plow his way home along the long wide stone wall that surrounded the cemetery. There was a good foot of snow on top of the wall now, the snow was becoming a swirling mess. The stone wall had fascinated him. A student of old and new construction techniques, Drew understood the effort it took to create this 2-foot-wide, 4-foot-high stone wall. It was not built to keep out bandits nor marauding hordes. It was built to show the permanence of this church. The solid foundation of "Christian" belief and the long-lasting presences of God. And while Drew knew the words, being a Deist, his brain kicked in to the "Blah, Blah, blah" of his scientific reasoning.

As he shuffled through the snow against the wall, he kept his head down. He finally had to remove his glasses as the errant snowflakes stuck to them and blocked his vision. He pocketed his glasses. Not like he needed them for walking and day-to-day, just driving and reading. Halfway down the wall there was the gate off Main Street. As he lurched and struggled through the heavy snow, he paused. Before he got to the gate, something caught the corner of his eye. He turned his head, causing some snow to fall into his open collar. "Oh damn fuck!" he yelled, as he pulled off his glove and tried to get the snow off his neck.

"What the hell was that?" he thought. He could swear for just a moment he saw a human in red. A female form walking across the cemetery draped in red. It was only in his peripheral vision, but when he turned his head, he saw nothing. "Absolutely fucking nothing!" he thought. "Guess it was that one last glass of wine," he shrugged. He continued to walk the wall. When he was adjacent to the Main Street gate, he saw her again, just out of the corner of his eye, she was there again, just a flash of her, a red hooded cape. The fringes of the long fabric blowing behind her. A hood covering her face but her large breasts open and moving in the snow and cold. "What the fuck?" Drew said to himself. He stepped through the gate into the hallowed grounds and looked around. Nothing, he saw nothing. He yelled, "Hello, anybody there? I can help if you want. Hello? Anybody?" He scanned the area, through swirling, blowing snow, nothing and then went back out the gate. He could swear he saw something again, red wrapped around naked flesh and then fucking nothing. Absolute silence filled the night, the swirling snow making no sound.

He trudged home, hoping to see something of the apparition, but nothing. The streetlight in front of his home illuminated his front door and over to the cemetery wall across his alley. The cemetery was just a dark gloomy backdrop to a portion of the highlighted wall. He opened his door, carefully stepped into his house making sure all the snow and wet drippings stayed on his special winter rug. He shrugged off the jacket, pulled the cold door open and shook his hat out the door. "Fuck," he hissed. There was a flash of red and naked flesh behind the wall, right across from his door. He looked up and it was gone. "FUCK THIS!" he exclaimed, slamming the front door.

He finished dressing down and hanging all the wet stuff on the parson's bench. He gathered all the rest and marched upstairs to his private bathroom. He gathered some warm clothes and after a long hot shower, he emerged into his bedroom. He pitter pattered around, but he knew he was going to look. He had to look, he wanted to look, he knew it would be bad to look, knew it in his soul, but he had to look. He slowly walked to the windows, parted the blinds and lost his breath.

There, before him, directly in front of the window, illuminated by the streetlight, was the apparition. It was a beautiful woman sitting on the wall of the church. Draped in her red cloak, porcelain skin, hood covering most of her face, but beautiful beyond understanding. She was looking right into his eyes, and he could not look away. She was seated on the wall, red cloak blowing in the wind, with the snow swirling around her like a very cold hallo. Her cowl pulled over her head did not hide her gorgeous eyes. They stared directly into his, holding his gaze. They were matched with his and called to him. They hid nothing and all, cold as ice, almost white. He could not take his eyes away from hers. He wanted to fall into her eyes. He saw a long braid of black hair snake down from her shoulder and rest between her breasts. Such breasts, large, full, with long succulent nipples that stood proud. His eyes could see everything. Small red rubies piercing the long nipples with golden circles holding them close. She was seated with her beautiful ass in the snow, her very long shapely legs spread wide along the wall, her one hand behind her holding her up. Her other hand slowly playing with the braid. The cloak started to move in the wind, covering her and then parting to play a very sensual dance of hide and seek. Her hand moved from her braid and traced the contours of her large breasts. It reached her left nipple. She pinched and pulled at the ruby ring of gold. Her hand then traveled over to the right nipple, following the same pattern, pulling the nipple out until it should have hurt.

While he looked deep in her eyes, he saw a darker shadow flash across. He knew immediately, knew it was lust, lust for him. He watched her hand leave her breasts and travel slowly down her stomach heading to the smooth valley at the apex of her long beautiful legs. Her fingers slowed and traced a small band of black lace panties he did not realize she even wore. He noticed they were not real panties. They were just a wisp of lace that held up strands of black pearls traveling down her mound and between her lower lips. She began stroking the pearls and using them to roll over her clit. She pulled on the pearls and stroked her full, long engorged lips of her pussy. He silently whispered "fuck" and noticed that her pussy was very reminiscent of his past girlfriend. When she got turned on, the lips of her pussy became almost purple with blood. He noticed a small red gem piercing her clit, its blood red color standing out against the black orbs surrounding it. The piercing was same thing he had tried to talk his old girlfriend into. The apparition smiled and licked her lips. She then looked down at her fingers, breaking her bond holding Drew to her eyes.

Drew, stumbled back from the frosted window of his bedroom, trying to clear his head. He bolted down the second-floor stairs, almost tripping halfway down. He righted himself at the bottom half, tangled with the handrail. He bolted for the door in flannel shorts, a t-shirt and barefoot. Ripping the door open he looked across the alley to the cemetery and spied...nothing. "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?" he screamed into the storm. "Nothing, fucking nothing!" he thought.

He slowly walked to where the apparition had been sitting. He stood standing not knowing what to do. There, in the snow on top of the wall, were two perfect impressions of her ass cheeks. He looked to the left and then to the right, and there were the impressions of her heels. In the middle of the impression of her cheeks was a puddle of melting of snow. He knew what it had to be, her essence. He dipped his finger into the impression and found warm liquid. He ran his fingers through the warm liquid and brought them to his nose...her. No mistaking the intoxicating aroma of a woman in the throes of heat. He brought them to his lips and tasted, nirvana, and the world around him went dark.

End of chapter 1

Drew awoke in fog. He was in his bed, lying face down, but he never slept face down. He could hardly move and was sore all over his body. He felt like he had no energy, like he had completed the Iron Man and lived to tell about it. He rolled over, trying to move towards the bathroom, knowing he needed to pee, but too damn trashed to even try. He thought for a moment of just peeing where he was and dealing with it later, but sanity intervened, and he leveraged his body to a sitting position. "Fuck I hurt," he whispered out loud. He looked at his bed and thought "what the hell?" His bed was trashed, the bedclothes half or completely off the bed. Then the smell hit him, the bed reeked, reeked of sex, of her. Just then the shower shut off. He swiveled his head towards the bathroom door and saw the red cape crumpled on the bathroom floor. "Fuck me," he whispered.