Ritual Reality
18 Reunion
Monday, 16 June 1969
They had scarcely spoken offstage since Thursday night. Judith wasn’t avoiding him and kissed him warmly when she saw him, but each time he suggested they get together, she gave him a gentle shove and suggested that “Rebecca needed him.” He couldn’t figure it out. Judith had been… well, a little jealous of his relationship with Rebecca, but now she was pushing him toward her. It didn’t make sense.
Rebecca rejoined the cast for their last performance at Ambleside on Sunday night, which proved to be their largest audience since coming to England. There were over fifty in the audience. She was still tender and didn’t move as freely as she had before, but she was back onstage and part of the cast. Jim reluctantly cut the knife-throwing bit at Judith’s insistence.
“Can we spend some time together tomorrow?” Wayne asked as he caught Judith in the dressing room.
“Of course, love,” she answered. She kissed him and for a few moments let the kiss deepen into something Wayne remembered of their connection. Then she pushed away.
“We’re going to Blackpool tomorrow. Isn’t it exciting? I know how you love the Beatles.”
“I seem to remember something about how you love the Beatles,” Wayne whispered, then sang, “Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play.” Judith silenced him with another passionate kiss. “Wait. The Beatles are from Liverpool.”
“That’s just south of Blackpool. They played there a lot. It’s a big entertainment center. Don’t you know that John Lennon’s father attempted to kidnap him and immigrate to New Zealand from Blackpool when he was just five years old? Imagine. No Beatles!” Wayne looked at her askance. “It’s true. I’ll show you the very spot,” Judith continued. “Tonight, you’d better check on your patient and be sure she hasn’t overdone it in the performance. I got you this jar of cream. It’s called arnica and has been used here in the country for centuries. I’m told it removes bruising. You should put it on her shoulders.”
“Judith…”
“I promise I will be all yours tomorrow, darling,” she said as she left with Gail to head to their hotel.
“Uh oh. Trouble in paradise?” Rebecca asked when she opened the door to Wayne’s knock. He stood there looking confused. “Do come in, Wayne. You’ve sat by my bed faithfully for three nights. I don’t suppose I can stop you tonight. I thought you would be out with Judith tonight, though. I’m definitely on the mend now.”
“I… I don’t understand it. I have some ointment she gave me for you. She said I should rub it on your shoulders to lessen the bruising. I just don’t understand what’s going on.”
“Dear sister,” Rebecca whispered. “What is going on?”
“Why do you call Judith ‘sister?’ I’ve heard you say it before.”
“Oh. We discovered we are members of the same… society.”
“You mean like a sorority?”
“Yes. Very similar. In some ways.”
Wayne stood there awkwardly holding the bottle in his hand. Why is Judith doing this? Rebecca wondered. Still, the thought of something relieving the bruising on her shoulders was enticing. She’s overcompensating for our disagreement.
“Well since she was so kind as to send this remedy, it would be a shame to waste the opportunity,” Rebecca said. “To relieve the bruising,” she added hurriedly.
“I guess I’m supposed to put it on your shoulders. I could call Joyce. I’m sure she’d do it.”
“I’m sure she would, but it’s late. Let’s not disturb anyone else. Just touch gently. It’s still pretty sore.” Rebecca lay on her stomach and pulled her robe down off her shoulders. She still had her nightgown on. No harm done.
“Um… I think it has to go on the bruises. I can’t even see them. I’ll just ask Joyce in the morning,” Wayne stumbled.
“Oh. I guess they are somewhat covered up,” laughed Rebecca. “The bruises.” She looked hard at Wayne. The boy had an expression of such confusion and longing that Rebecca was lost. “Turn around.” He obeyed. Rebecca removed her robe and nightgown and then pulled the robe back on. She shuddered at the thought of what she’d just done. With Wayne’s back turned, she’d stripped to her panties and then hurriedly pulled her robe on. She lay back down on the bed and called to him. “You should be able to reach them now.”
Wayne turned to her and she shifted her weight to pull the robe down away from her shoulders and upper arms. She kept it bunched up around her breasts as she lay on her stomach, arms clamped to her sides.
“Okay. It says to just apply liberally to the bruised area and rub in gently.”
“The key word there is ‘gently.’ I’m still very sore,” Rebecca replied. She heard him remove the lid from the jar and braced herself for the cold ointment. Instead, she heard Wayne rubbing his hands together.
“This stuff’s cold. Let me warm it up a minute,” he said. What a sweet boy.
When Wayne considered the cream to be warm enough, he gently drew his hands across Rebecca’s shoulders. She shivered at his touch.
“Still too cold?” he asked, pulling back.
“No. No, it’s fine. I just… I haven’t been touched like that in a long time. Go ahead, doctor.” Wayne inhaled deeply and began to gently rub the emollient into her shoulders. Rebecca sighed. Wayne started to pull away when he’d covered the area he could see. “Please don’t stop,” she whispered. She pulled with her fingers and the robe came down to her mid-back. He can’t really see anything.
“God, Rebecca! How far down does this go? You’re bruised all the way to the middle of your back.”
“As long as you see a bruise, just keep pushing it down. I trust you.”
“Perfect love and perfect trust,” Wayne whispered uncertainly. Rebecca relaxed. She let go of the robe.
“It looks like the bar bounced off your shoulders and hit you two or three more times on the way down. I’m so sorry, Rebecca. It was all because of my stupidity.”
“Shh. Just put the cream on. It does make it feel better.” He rubbed the lotion in softly and she just wanted to purr. It felt so good. He started to pull his hands away. “There’s one more, dear,” she said. She hadn’t intended to tell him about the last bruise, but, ‘in for a pence, in for a pound,’ she thought.
“Um… really?”
“Yes really. Do you think I’m Mrs. Robinson? I’m not trying to seduce you.” I don’t think I am, anyway. Oh goddess, his hands feel so good.
Wayne pushed the robe down farther and she straightened her arms to pull her hands out of the sleeves. She heard him gasp. She quickly pulled her arms back alongside her breasts.
“What is it?”
“I just… God, Rebecca. It’s like someone beat you across your… um… I know you’re not trying to seduce me… but… um…”
She felt his hands caress the soft globes of her buttocks. She couldn’t help herself. She moaned. She knew the stripe was across the top of her butt, but when his hands pushed farther down to cup her cheeks she didn’t complain. If anything, she moaned a little and pushed back against his hands.
He withdrew his hands and pulled her robe up to cover her back.
“I… um… think… I got it… all. I’ll leave the jar here in case you need some more. Goodnight!” He fled from the room. Rebecca lay on her bed panting.
“Oh goddess! What have I done?” she whispered. It was not, however, what she had done, but what she was about to do that scared her. Her hand slipped beneath her and her fingers sought the warm, wet folds of her sex.
Monday was a good if frustrating day. Judith spent the day cuddled next to him in the seat of the overcrowded bus, volunteering to ride on his lap so another actor could have her seat. She kept burying her face in his neck, covering it with kisses. Then she would tell him about what he was seeing in the countryside. He never tried to see beyond what was sitting in his lap. They walked around Blackpool, toured the castle, and rode the nearly fifty-year-old roller coaster at Pleasure Beach called The Big Dipper. They also rode the wooden-track Wild Mouse and Wayne was feeling peaked when he got off.
Judith stood on a pier and declared that this was where John Lennon was made to choose between his mother and his father at age five. It had now been four years since the Beatles last played a concert at Pleasure Beach.
“I’ve got to tell Glenn this,” Wayne said. “He knows so much. It will be nice to have something on him. Let me see. If he was five years old, that would have been in…”
“1946,” Judith said.
“Hey, Glenn! Did you know that John Lennon was nearly kidnapped on this very spot?” Wayne asked his friend.
“Yeah. By his dad. His mom found out and came to get him. It’s sad, really. He didn’t see his dad again until like three years ago. There was a big write-up about it in Billboard.”
“Shit,” Wayne said.
It was dark when the bus headed back for Keswick and Wayne managed to position himself so Judith on his lap was between him and the window. Their seat-mate was turned toward the aisle and Wayne began some serious make-out time. Judith melted against him and encouraged his hand when it slid up under her shirt against her skin.
“I miss you baby,” he whispered. “Why don’t you stay with me tonight.”
“I can’t. Haven’t you noticed them checking rooms? If we aren’t in by curfew, we’re toast.”
“I didn’t know,” Wayne said.
“Just keep doing what you’re doing now. Jesus, Wayne, you make me feel so good.”
“Tomorrow.”
“Jim’s got us scheduled for another bus tour tomorrow. I don’t even know where he’s taking us.”
“Shit. Kendall. We’re supposed to see some production of The World of Carl Sandburg that he’s thinking of doing next year.”
“Who is Carl Sandburg?”
“An American poet. He’s all about folk songs and pig slaughtering. Urban industrial art against a rural American backdrop.”
“You are the only poet I need,” she whimpered as he strummed her nipples with his thumb.
“What is she doing?” Wayne whispered to Judith. He wasn’t sure why he was whispering. They were in a huge open field surrounded by monolithic stones.
The show in Kendall had been good. After busting all budgets to get the cast to England, Jim was going to need a low budget show to open in the fall and with just four actors sitting on stools, you couldn’t get much lower budget than The World of Carl Sandburg. And it was timely. Everybody wanted to sit around singing folk songs and protest songs. If they added a little Bob Dylan into the mix it would be a great show.
But instead of returning directly to Keswick, the bus had taken a short detour to visit this stone circle. Wayne had been almost asleep after they stopped for half an hour to let sheep finish crossing the road in front of them. He never did figure out how many there were. Then he’d stepped off the bus and followed the cast across a low fence—what was that poem about a crooked stile?—and into a scene from one of his dreams. Stones surrounded him. Judith led him between two and made a long circuit with him around the circle. When they were approaching the two tall stones again, he saw Rebecca moving from stone to stone, touching it as if it were an old friend.
“She’s saying hello and calling each one by name. The one on the left at the northern gate is Enceladus. The one on the right is Asia.”
“These should mean something to me,” Wayne whispered. He shook his head. If it would only come clear. Judith was pulling him to the edge of the circle away from the rest of their group. Steve, Chuck, and Phil were leaning against a stone opposite them looking like a scene from the crucifixion with their hands held out and other cast members taking their pictures.
“Look at me, lover.” Wayne fixed his gaze on Judith. She reached out and touched the pentacles that hung from his neck.
“Swordmaster,” he whispered.
“Yes, Unbound. This is the circle where we meet. The clowns don’t have any idea that they are leaning against one of the Titans.”
“Scarce images of life, one here, one there…”
“Yes. And she is greeting each of them.”
“Reb…”
“Shh. You know who she is.” Wayne thought a moment and it came to him.
“The Hart.”
“Yes. The Huntress of Carles Castlerigg. This is her circle as well.”
“Why is it all so foggy? I can hardly even see the other side of the circle.” Wayne said, looking around.
“Foggy?”
The word seemed to echo in Wayne’s mind. The fog was disappearing. He’d stepped through a barrier and could see the people clearly. Mari, The Vagabond, the celebrants. He was thankful to no longer be sharing the body of The Vagabond. This time he could simply watch and see how the scene would play out. Vaguely he could see shadows around them and he recognized them as cast members from the play. But they weren’t real where he was. Where he was there was only The High Priestess Mari, The Vagabond, The Swordmaster, and The Hart.
“Unbound?” There was a note of panic in the voice of The Swordmaster. “You mustn’t. Not now. Not with everyone around.” The Hart looked at him from across the circle, alarm in her eyes. Apparently, he wasn’t supposed to be here now. He felt The Swordmaster pull him toward her, felt the point of her Athamé at his chest, and he suddenly snapped back into the present.
“Let’s go everyone!” Jim called. “John and Joyce are putting together a feast for the entire cast tonight. Let’s honor our hosts with the best we can give them!” Everyone headed for the bus again. At the edge of the circle, Wayne turned and looked back. A crowd of naked witches turned toward him, calling him back to their circle. He felt a pull on his arm and a few moments later he was on the bus.
“You saw it,” Judith whispered. “What is he?”
She had cornered Rebecca outside the dining room after dinner. The cast was pleased that for once they had not had lamb sandwiches. Judith declined to tell them that the meatloaf was at least half mutton. Wait till they had a Wimpy. But it was the first moment that she’d been able to get to Rebecca when Wayne went into the lounge to have a Baby Cham and sing more folk songs with other members of the cast. Glenn had located a guitar. When Judith saw Rebecca leave the room, she excused herself to use the loo.
“Goddess, Swordmaster. He’s a Vagabond. Can’t you see it? He took us across a time dimension without even having a ritual. We were there. I saw Iäpetus in the hands of the High Priestess. You saw it, too.”
“I’ve believed in our ancient ways all my life, Huntress, but I’ve never seen power manifest itself like this. I don’t know what to do. You have to help him.”
“It may take both of us.”
“I feel… something is wrong. I’ve been weakened,” Judith said. “But whatever you want, you may have. If it is to be our own Unbound, please… love him… like I love him.” Tears were pouring from Judith’s eyes as she left Rebecca in more wonder of what had just occurred than of what happened in the stone circle.
Wednesday morning Wayne awoke to rapping on his door. Oh. I must have overslept. What the hell? He struggled out of bed and went to the door. Rebecca stood there. Wayne was suddenly conscious of the fact he was standing at the door in a t-shirt and briefs.
“Um… Hi. Am I late?”
“Kind of overdid it last night, didn’t you?” Rebecca asked. Now Wayne remembered.
They’d sat in the lounge singing and drinking Baby Cham. It was good, but a little pricey, so Wayne switched to beer as he and Glenn teamed up to sing “Walk Right Back” in a pretty good rendition of the Everly Brothers. Judith and Gail were attempting to leave for the night and eventually extracted themselves to head back to the Skiddaw. They sang a couple more numbers in the lounge until there were only Glenn, Wayne, and Chuck left with John, the innkeeper.
“Now lads, you’ve a treat coming,” John said. “How about a little whisky?”
“A shot on the rocks would be a nice nightcap,” Glenn said.
“Rocks?”
“He means with ice,” Chuck laughed.
“Why would you want a lump of water in your scotch?”
“I think he’s Irish,” Wayne laughed.
“Irish? That’s a Scotsman with his brain removed. This is a Macallan ten. Just standard bar whiskey here.” John set up four short glasses and poured a generous shot. Glenn reached to throw the shot back and John placed a strong hand on his arm. “You sip it, lad.” The three boys raised the glasses in salute to John and sipped the strong liquor.
“I think I could get to like this,” Wayne said after rolling the liquid over his tongue and swallowing. John regaled the three with stories of service in the war, finding Joyce when he was on furlough in Scotland, having his first sip of fine whisky, and ending up married in the morning.
“And that’s why I waited until your young ladies were gone before I served you whisky,” he laughed.
“Not that I don’t appreciate the effort, but without a brain, I think I’ll go back to warm beer. I’m getting used to that,” Glenn said. Chuck picked up the guitar and began playing something vaguely Spanish. He had tuned out everything around him. John poured Glenn another beer and then turned to Wayne.
“Yeah. I could really get to like this,” Wayne nodded as he slowly finished his whisky. John handed him a glass of water.
“Drink this to cleanse your mouth. The next one is better yet.” John reached for a clean glass and poured from an unlabeled bottle with sloping sides. “Oban. It’s a West Highland. Fallin’ short this year. I hear they’re building a new distillery, but there won’t be any more of this for a few years.”
By the time Wayne had finished his second whisky, Glenn was passed out in the lounge and Chuck had disappeared. John sampled a third Scotch so smoky and peaty that Wayne compared it to gasoline.
“In a good way,” he said, embarrassed.
“Nah. The island whisky isn’t for everyone. You’re a Highland man, though I think you might like the Speyside.”
“Not tonight, my friend. One more and I’d be asleep with Glenn over there.”
“Aye. We’d better get him up to his room so yer professors don’t find him in the morning. Ye won’t say anything, now will you?”
“Of course not. Thank you.”
Now Wayne was wondering what he’d missed and why Dr. Allen was at his door. Somehow, she looked like Dr. Allen this morning and not like Rebecca.
“Um… I guess maybe we got a little carried away.”
“You don’t look too much the worse for it.”
“Did I miss something?”
“Breakfast. But there is a remedy.”
“Another opportunity, Dr. Allen?”
“Mr. Hamel, don’t act so dour. I expect you up, bathed, and presentable in fifteen minutes. Then you are to march directly to the Skiddaw Hotel and take your girlfriend out to breakfast. You’ve spent entirely too much time in the company of professors. Go have some fun.”
She grinned at him and he couldn’t help but grin back.
“Yes, Dr. Allen. I sure hope I ace this class.”
“Some days you must make a pass to get a pass,” she replied and marched away.
A bright spot began to show on Wayne’s horizon and it took the shape of Judith Harmon coming down the hotel stairs. When she saw him, her face lit up and she ran into his arms. They kissed, long and slow.
“What are you doing here at this hour?” she asked when they broke apart to breathe. “The way you guys were going last night, I didn’t expect you up before noon.”
“Breakfast. I understand you know where the best bakery in town is and would be the one to show me all that I’ve missed since coming to England.”
“That could be arranged,” she said. “We’d probably just walk around a lot and get to know each other before we spent the afternoon on the lake in very tiny bathing suits.”
“My lady, I am yours to command.”
“Oh, don’t I wish,” she sighed.
Their romance was tumultuous at the best of times. In the worst times, it bordered on coming to blows. Now it looked like it would end when Wayne left England and Judith stayed. As a result, both found their moods swinging at the smallest stimulus. Neither one seemed to know precisely what they found so attractive in the other, but the attraction was there. The coolness of the past few days thawed as they finished their cream scones and tea. Wayne did manage a cup of weak coffee. Judith looked at him in his flannel shirt and jeans, carrying his walking stick.
“Well, you are dressed for a walking tour,” she said. “Time for you to find out what walkers are really like. We’ll need a lunch and water. We’ll get you a little knapsack to carry things. It’s a ten mile walk and the first half is uphill. Are you ready?”
“Ten miles! It will take us hours.”
“That’s only if we don’t stop to fool around. I can’t guarantee that we won’t. Let’s go!”
In a matter of half an hour, they’d collected a knapsack, lunch, a bottle of wine, and water. Judith stayed on Wayne’s left so he could hold his stick in his right hand.
“Where are we going?”
“Up. We’re hiking up Skiddaw Little Man.”
“Don’t call me Little Man. Where’d that come from?”
“It’s the name of the peak. If we feel good when we get there, it’s only another mile to the peak of Skiddaw, but we’re going to climb over 2,000 feet.” They set off together and headed for the peak. It took half an hour to get to the trailhead but the walking was pleasant and even though they were climbing steadily, it didn’t seem to be a problem. They held hands and talked. And talked. Judith had spent her childhood near here and the trails were familiar to her. She talked about visiting each of the four circles in her youth, but staying with Threlkeld as her home. Most of what she said, Wayne didn’t really understand, but assumed it was just cultural differences. He was too occupied by the sensations of holding her hand, pausing to catch their breath and then lose it again in a kiss.
“Look, we didn’t need to bring water with us,” he said as they came to a stream rushing down the mountain. “Pure English countryside water.”
“Don’t drink that.”
“Why not?”
“Wait till we get around the next bend and you’ll see.” They continued to walk and half a kilometer later were surrounded by sheep, also making use of the stream, in various ways.
“Ew, yuck.”
“No, ewe uck.” They laughed and drank from their canteen, then walked farther.
“Don’t you have friends here that you want to see?”
“My best friend is away someplace. Lord knows where.” Judith had complained of a lonely childhood. “You saw me with a friend opening night in Keswick. He was passing me the joints that we shared with disastrous results. I just wish you could remember everything that happened that night. You made me feel so good.”
“I’m so ashamed that I passed out on you.”
“On me and in me. Wayne, I’m worried about the way you sometimes black out. It’s like you go somewhere and even if you take me with you, I can’t really touch you.”
“I’m sorry I got so pre-occupied with Rebecca. But she saved our lives.”
“Hey. I know when not to compete with a beautiful professor injured in an act of valor. I…” Judith shook her head as if something was interfering with her thoughts. “I want you to be with her,” she whispered.
“What?”
“Just… do whatever she asks. Oh shit!” A tear was on Judith’s cheek as they crested the summit of Skiddaw Little Man. Wayne kissed it and she clung to him.
“I love you, Judith,” he said. “I don’t understand everything that is going on, but the thing that keeps me held together is that I love you.”
They sat with their lunch and drank water, deciding wine would be an unwise decision as they still needed to walk back to town. They also decided not to cross the ridge to the summit of Skiddaw. Wayne looked at the mountain and squinted. There was something about it that drew him, but repulsed him at the same time. The path looped back on itself just on the north edge of the mountain and returned near a secluded gully. Wayne began to hurry, but Judith tripped and dragged him to the ground with her.
It was a good idea to go for a hike, Judith thought. She was able to talk to him and he to her, but the silences were just part of hiking uphill, not awkward pauses that either rushed to fill. She felt guilty taking him away from Rebecca, but last night Rebecca had insisted that Judith should spend time with Wayne. She’d refused outright to discuss the possibility of using him in the ritual. That should have comforted Judith, but she felt disturbed. She could not shake the feeling that what she said to Rebecca—or even to Wayne at times—was not what she really wanted to say.
They’d made the top of Skiddaw Little Man, the false summit, and headed toward the ridge to cross to the summit when Wayne turned suddenly and wanted to go back without continuing up the mountain. Judith showed him the loop path from between the two peaks and Wayne seemed in a rush to return. They were in the gully, following the stream when she fell, dragged forward by Wayne’s grip on her hand. He stumbled and fell beside her.
There was a wild look in his eyes that terrified Judith. He turned to gather her into his arms and as their eyes met he seemed to melt.
“I think these hills are haunted,” he said.
“No doubt,” she answered, glad that he was back with her. “I knew a fellow in school who catalogued over a hundred different ghost stories from this region. Most of them are benign, though.”
They heard voices and both held their breath as they hugged in the shelter of a small grove. The voices were above them as two other hikers passed on a footpath above the gully.
“Maybe I missed the right path,” Wayne speculated.
“Not to worry. It’s an easy climb out of this little stream bed,” Judith answered. “They all come out the same. And this is a rather nice, secluded spot, don’t you think?”
Wayne looked around and grinned. The two sank to the ground and into each other’s arms. The kiss was accompanied by touches as they refreshed their memories of their partner’s body.
“You know why I always let you lead uphill?” he asked. Judith blushed.
“You’ve been watching my ass, haven’t you?”
“It is such a perfect ass to watch. How did you come to be so beautiful?”
“I’m not that beautiful. My tits are too small, my ass is too big, and I have a soft belly.”
“Where on earth did you get that information? Someone has been lying to you. Judith, you are the most perfect woman I have ever met.”
“I’m only five foot one. If I had a little more height and a longer reach I’d be a better fencer.”
“Perfect! I’m certain that’s what makes your shoulders fit just under my arm. And your legs are at least that long. When I look at you in your shorts or one of your short skirts, I can’t take my eyes off your legs. And your butt is so perfectly round at the top of your legs, I just want…”
Judith kissed him as his hands did what they wanted to her butt.
“Make love to me, Wayne. Tell me I’m perfect for you. Please?”
“That’s no problem at all.” He began unbuttoning her shirt, exposing more and more of her flesh. “You’re not wearing a bra?”
“I hoped you’d notice eventually,” she whispered. He continued removing her shirt and began tickling her with his beard.
“I never understood what was meant when guys used to talk about breasts that would fit in a champagne glass. My parents have champagne glasses and they are all these tall skinny things.”
“Those are flutes.”
“No one ever tried to play them.”
“That’s… oh… ah.” His tongue a reached out to flick her left nipple and she couldn’t continue speaking. He kissed her breast softly.
“John served our Baby Chams in these wide… like pudding cups.”
“Coupes,” Judith sighed as he bent to flick her nipple with his tongue again.
“Okay. I just kept thinking as I held my champagne coupe in the palm of my hand that it was just the size and shape of your breast—so perfect—so elegant—so sensual.”
“Oh, Wayne. Not too hard. It’s too sensitive, baby.”
“You know, I noticed that the first time you let me touch them. That day after New Year’s when you nearly knocked me out in the hall. And then we lay down together and you showed me how sensitive your skin is. I had such a lot to learn. The only thing I knew was what I read in Playboy.”
“You read the articles?”
“How else is a guy supposed to find out what turns Miss October on? But the stories were all wrong. They talk about a girl’s nipples getting stiff and hard. You’d think their diamond tips would bore holes in your chest. But your beautiful, dainty little nipples are puffy and erect, but they’re still soft and pliable. I don’t want to squeeze them too hard because they’re so tender. You are so perfect.”
Judith was luxuriating in Wayne’s touch and his words. In so few encounters, he’d learned her body so well. She pushed his hand lower to her stomach.
“You don’t have a belly. You are flat and athletic. You are strong.”
“But it’s soft and poochy.”
“What makes a woman a woman instead of a man with boobs? I wouldn’t want you to look like a body-builder. I love the softness of your tummy. And as soon as you stretch and my hand floats down your front, I can feel every muscle ripple beneath my touch. Especially when I reach your belt and you suck your tummy in like you are now so there’s room between your shorts and your skin for me to slide my hand down lower.”
Judith mewed as Wayne’s hand slipped into her panties and stroked down to the top of her slit. She reached a hand down and opened the buttons to let them fall open. Wayne pulled his shirt off and she lifted her hips so he could put it under her before he pulled her shorts and panties down her legs. Please touch me.
“Do you remember the first time you undressed with me? And we were so rudely interrupted in the costume closet. It was the first time I saw your… your uh…”
“My fanny? My pussy? My little cunny?”
“Okay. I like your little cunny. It tastes like honey.”
“I don’t think that’s funny.”
“You could be a playboy bunny.”
“Just touch it, would you?”
“Yeah.” But he didn’t touch it. He blew through her hairs and down across her legs. It made her shiver and tense and squirm. “The first time I saw your little cunny I stopped breathing. Like the hair on your head, your pubic hair is so fine and light that any little breeze makes it move.” He blew again and she whimpered. Please get to it?
Wayne moved down between her legs and blew softly from the other side. She could feel her hair moving in his light breeze.
“When you let me between your beautiful, shapely legs the first time, I didn’t know what to expect. Guys have such weird stories. But the smell was so light and sweet—even now after you’ve been walking for three hours, you smell fresh. I know you’ve been sweating, but you don’t taste salty like I do.” He licked up the inside of her left thigh then started up the right thigh. He came close to her bush but never quite touched the sensitive parts. “And the thing I wanted more than anything in the world was a taste of your precious fluids. Not too thick and not too thin, but you were so turned on, you’d kind of dripped down the inside of your leg. You’d be doing that now, but you are lying back and it’s all running down your bottom.” With that he licked up between her cheeks, gathering what was dripping down between them.
Judith loved the tantalizing way he’d teased her, but she was more than ready. The next time his tongue rose between her cheeks, she grabbed his head and pressed his mouth against her vulva.
“Lick me. Please, lick me, baby.” Wayne complied. He thoroughly bathed her hair, her vulva, her clit, and her opening with his tongue. Then he got down to business and focused on getting her off. Judith came in seconds and then came again when he continued his assault. As she was rising toward her third climax she pulled at him. “In me. Baby, put your cock in my fanny and fuck me. I have to feel you in me now.”
Wayne pushed his pants low enough that he could comply with her wishes and in moments Judith began to see the sparkling lights that emanated from her lover and encased them in a protective shield. She knew she could cry out—scream out her orgasm and no one would hear. No one would infringe on their privacy. The sensation rose from deep inside her and as Wayne stroked into her again she released in a climax that he joined until they both passed out.
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