Bee Witched

Ewan fully realized that dancing naked around a fire, chanting and swaying in a forest glen with arms raised to the moon wasn't appropriate for a guy raised Catholic. He laughed and flung the thought away, concentrating on the ritual and the naked witch dancing sensuously beside him in the firelight.

~~~~

Ewan only visited the village because the girl he'd been dating wanted to see the historic mill. So, they drove the 40 minutes away from the city to play tourist. The mill was interesting—the water wheel and wooden gearing all still worked.

Crews sometimes came to shoot movie scenes there which, it turned out, was what really interested his date about the mill.

"This is where they shot the make-up scene in 'Reindeer Ruckus 2'," she gushed. "My favorite holiday romance. Just think... Ronan Everster stood right on this spot and did that super romantic kiss with Amy Tolbec after he changed back to human form."

Ewan admitted he hadn't seen the film and refrained from saying he never wanted to.

It was an unseasonably warm day in March, so afterwards they strolled through the haphazard streets and lanes of the village, passing quaint house after quaint house, oak trees arching high overhead.

They came to a fudge shop. Tended by two stooped and pleasant old ladies—sisters? Pans holding a dozen varieties of fudge sat beneath curved-glass display coolers. A sign boasted all fudge was made from local honey, not cane sugar or corn syrup. When Ewan and his date shared a sample, they discovered it was uncommonly smooth and just sweet enough, tinged with a uniquely exquisite flavor.

Fortified with a bag of six varieties of fudge, Ewan and his date wandered the village, nibbling and talking. There were only around 50 houses, all old but perfectly maintained. At the edge of the village, backing against the woods, sat a cottage made from field stones.

Ewan could feel age radiating from it. It might have existed before the mill and the village, built from stones laboriously dug from the land as settlers cleared the area for farming. It was a one-and-a-half story structure with pane glass windows on the ground floor and one dormer poking from the roof above a central heavy wood door. Ewan could picture it once having a thatched roof, though the current one was modern steel painted green.

Just outside the picket fence stood one of those free public libraries: a roofed cabinet on a post with a glass door. Hilariously, it was brown and painted to look like a gingerbread house, with white trim and colorful fake candies stuck to the sides and roof. A sign said, "Take a book, leave a book – No snacking."

More ordinary little libraries dotted front yards throughout affluent suburbs of the city. Ewan, always an avid reader, checked them out each time he encountered one, but was usually disappointed. Most held airport-grade thrillers, high school textbooks, and chewed baby's board books.

As he tilted his head sideways to read the titles, Ewan realized this one was different. It had two shelves: the lower held popular child and young adult titles. The upper, to his surprise, held the most eclectic array of titles he had ever seen: Jorge Luis Borges, Félix Guattari, A. L. Kennedy, Sylvia Townsend Warner... titles that would put his favorite indie bookstore in the city to shame.

He plucked The Awakening by Kate Chopin from the shelf. He knew of it and how revolutionary and reviled it had been when published, but had never read it.

"Are you really going to read that?" his date asked. "Hasn't anyone made it into a movie?"

"I'm not sure," Ewan said. "Nothing beats reading the book, though, don't you think?"

No she didn't, it turned out. She said she hadn't read a book since high school.

~~~~

The relationship didn't work out. She was a rocket in bed, but shallow and only interested in Ewan as a fuck buddy. At 32, Ewan longed for more.

He found himself being drawn back to the village. The next Sunday, he returned, stocking up on more fudge from the shop and nibbling it from the bag as he wandering the empty streets. He had always preferred the energy and bustle of big cities, not dead little towns, but no traffic, no sirens and the sway and creek of the tall oaks lining the streets infused him with a peacefulness he didn't know he needed.

A lady walking a terrier stopped him to ask if he was lost. He laughed, replying how impossible that was in a village so small. She smiled and agreed, then gave directions to the mill, the general store and the fudge shop anyway.

She hurried away when the bell of the church began ringing. Ewan was tempted to follow and join the service. He hadn't been to mass in a decade, but decided to find the stone cottage and its library instead.

When he found it, he was prepared. Ewan left Last Letters from Hav by Jan Morris on the upper shelf. Waiting for him and wrapped in an orange ribbon was A Sport and a Pastime by James Salter. He had never heard of it. The dust jacket said it was about about an affair between an American and a French girl in post-war France. That seemed risqué for a little library.

Looking at the dark windows of the cottage, he tried to picture the person living there. He imagined an old woman like the welcoming, vibrant biddies at the fudge shop. Perhaps she—and Ewan was certain she was a she—was a retired librarian, delighted to converse via book choices with a literate stranger through her little library, even daring to stick in a few naughty titles.

Every Sunday, Ewan drove to the village to replenish his fudge, his spirit and to exchange books. Whoever lived in the cottage always left a ribbon-bound copy of something offbeat and astounding. He left his own favorite titles, feeling a little embarrassed that he wasn't nearly as well read.

Could you get to know a person just by exchanging books? Many of the titles his mystery book partner left had themes of being an outsider and discovering one's own truth. Ewan realized many of the favorite books he left dealt with exploration and community.

Weeks later, she left a copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. Ewan answered with Jane Slayre —not as brilliant a mashup, but still funny. The next Sunday he found The Other Side of the Sky by Amie Kaufman & Meagan Spooner, a tale of forbidden love between a prince of an advanced city and a magical goddess.

He enjoyed it immensely but couldn't help feeling it was some sort of message.

~~~~

It was the first Sunday of June. The village oaks had transformed into a lush canopy with birds flitting among them. By then, the villagers knew Ewan by sight, always nodding in welcome when he passed. The streets were busier with tourists coming to see the old mill, but the place remained a peaceful oasis outside the city.

In addition to visiting the fudge shop, Ewan had begun visiting the overstuffed general store, buying things he could get much cheaper in the city. There was always some collection at the checkout: church repairs, a trip for a youth sports team, a mobility scooter for Mrs. Sanderson on Emerald Lane... Ewan donated whatever he could.

She was sitting on the front steps when Ewan approached the stone cottage, a white paper bag from the fudge shop in his hand and his latest book offering under his arm.

She looked to be about thirty. Standing, she brushed off a colorful skirt that flowed to her ankles and bare feet. She had a pleasant face and wavy hair and wore a loose peasant blouse cut low enough to reveal the cleavage of her breasts.

She walked towards him, smiling warmly and saying,

"Nibble, nibble like a mouse,

Who's been nibbling at my house?"

Reaching him, she laughed. Her laugh was as open and warm as her eyes. Ewan blinked, amazed. She was the owner of the cottage and the little library?

When he didn't speak, she said, "You're supposed to say something like 'Never mind, it's the wind.' But I might be misremembering. It's been a long time since I read any Brothers Grimm." Again she smiled. What a wonderful smile.

Ewan realized she was offering her hand.

"I'm Isadore," she said. "But call me Isa. I hope you don't mind me coming out to meet you. I've so enjoyed exchanging books with you. I thought it might be nice to sit and chat on such a lovely day. If you have time."

He shook her hand. "I'm Ewan. Y-yes I have time. Thank you."

Nodding her head towards his paper bag, she said, "I see you've stocked up on my aunt's fudge again. They say you're the most appreciative customer they've ever had."

Ewan looked at the bag, then back at her. He noticed a family resemblance, especially around her twinkling eyes.

"It's the best fudge on the planet," he said, "Especially the caramel pecan. Which one is your aunt?"

"Both!" she said. "They call you 'that handsome, charming young man'."

She saw Ewan eyeing the cottage windows. "Oh, they don't live here anymore. They moved to the house behind the fudge shop years ago. Here it's just little old me. All alone."

Ewan didn't know what to make of her expression.

She said, "can I see what book you brought me this time, or should I turn around so you can put it in the library for me to find later?"

Realizing he still had his book under his arm, he offered it to her.

"It's The Summer Book by Tove Jansson," he said.

Isa looked it over. "Why is that name familiar? Oh. Oh! She wrote the Moomin books! I read every single one when I was a girl. How did I not know she also wrote novels?"

Ewan said, "she wrote a few. That's her most famous one. Deceptively simple. I think you'll like it."

Isa clutched it to her chest like a prized heirloom. She turned toward the cottage and extended a hand back to Ewan. "Won't you come into my parlor?"

"Said the spider to the fly," he replied and followed her inside.

~~~~

The interior was one open space: a kitchen area on one side at the rear, chairs and a sofa circling a well-used stone fireplace and a battered dining table near the center. The ceiling was uneven whitewashed planks supported by heavy wood beams.

Bundles of what looked like drying herbs hung upside down from many of the beams, scenting the air with a potent mix of lavender, dill, mint, ginger and jasmine, all competing for attention.

In one corner Ewan saw a cloth-covered side table that held a potted plant, earthen bowls, and candles. Stretched out above the front door was a handmade broom.

The place would have been cramped and dark were it not for a modern wood addition that replaced the entire rear wall. It doubled the available space. Sliding patio doors opened onto a low wood deck with wrought-iron café chairs and a table.

Isa set her book on the dining table, patted the cover with reverence and invited Ewan to sit with her outside to enjoy the summer day.

~~~~

Sitting with Isa on the deck sharing some flavorful tea she had made, Ewan saw the back yard was huge. It extended all the way to the edge of the forest. Along one side were huge flower and vegetable gardens. The other side was one long row of stacked wooden boxes.

Before he could ask about them, Isa said, "Ewan, I'm so grateful that you've been my book buddy. The books you've left me were eye-opening, funny and more than a little weird. I've loved every one. Honestly."

"Same for me," he said. "You've shown me so many authors I never knew of. I figured you had to be a librarian or maybe you worked at Folio Intaglio."

"That pretentious little bookstore in the city? Way too hip for an ordinary girl like me. No, I just like reading. Always have. You?"

Ewan said he was the same. "Though I read mostly Conan novels when I was growing up."

"Ooo, I love a good sword and sandals book. I read all the Tarzan books."

"Aren't there, like, 10 of them?"

"24 in the original series. The later books got pretty bizarre, but I loved them as a girl. Jungle adventures with muscular heroes in loin cloths? I couldn't get enough."

Isa took a sip of tea then peppered Ewan with questions: what did he do for work (financial analyst), did he grow up in the city (yes), was he single (yes, since March) and had he ever been stung by a bee.

"Huh? No. Never," he said.

"So you don't know if you're allergic to bee venom. Okay. Well, I keep an EpiPen on hand just in case."

Ewan's eyes drifted to the long row of stacked boxes, noticing for the first time the bees flying in and out.

"Those are beehives!" he said, nearly launching himself from his chair.

Isa gasped. "Oh. I'm so sorry! I thought that was obvious. Do you have a phobia? We can go inside and close the door."

Ewan relaxed a little. "No, I'm not afraid of bees. It's just... I've never been this close to hundreds of them."

"Thousands," Isa said. "There are tens of thousands in a hive."

"That doesn't make it better," he said.

"Don't worry. I grow basil all around the edge of the deck. They hate it. If one does come around, just don't swat at it and you'll be fine, okay?"

"Okay. So... is that your hobby?"

"It's my living. Selling honey, beeswax, a little bee pollen. Sometimes some royal jelly."

"You make the honey for the fudge shop!"

Isa flashed a tight smile. "Right. But the bees make the honey. They're generous enough to let me collect their overproduction. In return, I keep the colonies healthy and provide a safe place to live, especially over winter."

"Wow. I have a million questions. Got a beekeeping book you could lend me?"

Isa chuckled. "A few. The best content is online, though. Want to trade phone numbers? I'll text you a link. I have a bazillion book recommendations I'd love to send you, too."

After trading phone numbers, Isa said, "I, uh, could also show you how it works right now. It's still too early for the first harvest, but I need to do an inspection if you want to watch."

"I've love that. Got a spare beekeeper suit around?"

"You can wear mine if you want to get close. The bees don't know you."

"Don't you need it?"

"I just use a smoker to calm them. And sometimes I wear a veil, but most of the time—and this is going to sound really weird—when I tend the hives I do it naked."

Ewan nearly fell off his chair. "How... why... what the hell?"

Isa shrugged. "Ever read how cyclists are more reckless on the road when they wear a bike helmet?"

"I... yes, I remember reading studies like that. Not sure the evidence is really there, though."

"It's called risk compensation. It's a real thing. Well, being naked makes me feel as vulnerable as the colonies feel when I open a hive. I'm more careful. More respectful of their home. I think it goes way beyond that, too. I try to live in harmony and be connected. With the bees and with all things of mother earth. Not wearing clothes helps with that a lot. It might sound nuts, but when I'm grounded and in harmony, I think the bees, in their way, tune into it and understand that I'm not a threat."

"You're right," Ewan said. "That does sound nuts."

"The thing is," Isa said, "I've been attacked while wearing full gear. And while wearing street clothes. They've never stung me or become aggressive when I've been naked. Not once."

Ewan pictured Isa naked except for one of those beekeeper hats, bending over a hive with bees zooming all around. Then he tried very hard not to picture dribbling honey over her breasts and licking it off.

"You're turning red," Isa said with a laugh. "I know it seems weird, but it works. It feels incredible, too. I feel so connected to the hive and mother earth, placing complete trust in the colony not to attack and sting me on my boobs... or in worse places."

Ewan had no words.

"Maybe I shouldn't have told you that on our first meeting," she said. "Now you probably think I'm insane. The nudist beekeeper. Hey, that would make a good title for a book."

"It would probably sell really well," Ewan said. "I don't think you're insane, Isa. If it works for you, it works. I've read about nudism... naturism... whatever. I know it's about harmony with nature and self-acceptance and everything. So, I'm not opposed to the concept of—"

"—of seeing me naked?" Isa said, grinning.

"Nope," Ewan said, grinning back. "I'm not opposed to that one little bit."

Isa laughed and after studying Ewan for a moment, pulled her blouse over her head and off. She sat tall, presenting her bare breasts to Ewan, a calmly amused look on her face.

Ewan sucked in a breath. He hoped she wasn't as bold with every guy she traded books with. Her breasts were round, high and firm, perfect in size and shape.

"Beautiful," Ewan said.

She smiled. "I hope you know I don't do this with everyone I invite to my home. After the books we've shared and now that I've finally got to meet you, I feel like I've known you for months."

"I—I feel the same way, Isa. I feel like I've entered a new world after reading the books you left for me. Meeting you is, well, a little weird to be honest, but in a good way. Does that make sense?"

"It does, Ewan. That's why I don't have any problem being nude with you. I know you can handle it. I know I can trust you."

Ewan pulled off his own shirt.

She held up a hand. "Stop. You don't need to strip off too."

"It's only fair," he said.

"Ewan, as unopposed as I am to seeing you naked, you've never done any nudism before, have you? You're not going to be comfortable the first time. And if you're not comfortable, I won't be either. It'll distract me and throw off my whole game." She scanned his naked chest and bit her lower lip. "Especially if the rest of you is as buff as your chest."

Ewan shrugged. "I try to stay fit. Eat right. Though it's been hard since my diet started being about 40 percent fudge."

They laughed.

Isa stood, loosening the waist of her long skirt. "Besides," she said, "you can't be naked if you're going to wear my beekeeper suit. You'll get it all sweaty inside."

She let her skirt fall and, with no hesitation, pushed her underwear down and off. She stood tall. No embarrassment, no nervousness, just a serene expression as she let Ewan drink in her naked body.

Isa was toned, with smooth skin that seemed to glow in the summer light. Her figure was lush and beautifully proportioned. Between her legs she was untrimmed and completely natural.

She lifted her arms to the sky and threw her head back.

"Ahh," she said, doing an enticing little wriggle. "So wonderful." Silently, she mouthed some words before lowering her arms and smiling sweetly at Ewan.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "You look a little overwhelmed." She ran her hands down her sides and shimmied her shoulders, making her breasts wobble delightfully. "Everyone is naked under their clothes, you know."

Ewan cleared his throat. "I—I know. I get it. You're really beautiful, Isa. I'm amazed how comfortable you seem."

"It is comfortable. Natural. Sometime later I've love for you to try it with me. Right now though, let's get started inspecting the hives." She paused and waved her fingers around her head. "Wow. I'm all excited. Not from being naked with you. It's finally getting to meet you and you turning out to be such a great guy. I can't wait to show you my beekeeping. Oh, I'm just full of chaotic energy right now. That won't do if I'm opening hives. I need to go inside and do a centering ritual. It won't take long.

"Do a what?"

"You can come watch if you like. Then we'll get you into in my beekeeper suit."

~~~~

Ewan pulled his shirt back on and followed her inside to the original stone part of the cottage. Her round ass and the swell of her hips were a lovely sight. She stopped at the cloth-covered side table and lit a large blue candle.

"It helps if you can focus with me while I speak the incantation."

He laughed. "Sounds like witchcraft."

"Good, because it is. Now if you will stay quiet for just a minute, I'll—"

"Y-you're Wiccan?"

"Well, no. That's different. I practice a much older craft."

She took a deep breath and stretched her arms out towards the table, closed her eyes and began mouthing words.

Ewan realized it was an altar. A pagan altar. The flickering of the candle revealed a pentagram inscribed on its side. He looked again at the homemade broom above the front door and the prisms and crystals sitting on every windowsill. He scanned the room, half expecting a black cat to walk up and say hello.

Habit ingrained since childhood had Ewan making the sign of the cross on himself before he bolted out the front door.

~~~~

That night Ewan sat on his couch, looking over the lights of the city through his apartment window.

A witch! Beautiful Isadore, the most compelling woman he had ever met and who seemed so promising was a witch! A bride of Satan. In league with the devil!

Or was that something else? He didn't know. All he remembered was Sunday School and the teacher reading the "thou shall not let a witch to live" passage. The Harry Potter books were wildly popular then. She spent two whole Sundays raging against the occult and how it countered the authority of God.

Had Isa cast some spell that made her seem so wonderful? Did he even believe in spells and magic and all that woo woo stuff? What did it even mean to be a witch in the modern world?

Were her aunts witches too? Were the three of them a—what was the word—a coven? Oh my God, had he been eating satanic fudge since March?

Did the people in the village know about her? The village church was well attended every Sunday. He worried that if they found out they would all show up at her place with pitchforks and torches.

Isa didn't seem evil. Not at all. She seemed happy and, as she said, centered. Grounded.

His phone chimed with a text from her.

So sorry I shocked you. Didn't expect it. Rituals are as natural as breathing to me. I forgot how people can be about them.

Not knowing what to say, Ewan didn't reply. Instead, he did what he always did: he read.

Online, he found endless material on modern witchcraft and Wicca. He was surprised to learn Wicca had only been around since the 1950s.

"All Wiccans are witches," an article said, "but not all witches are Wiccan." That must have been what Isa meant when she said her craft was older.

As he read, none of it seemed evil. There were many different practices, but most talked a lot about personal empowerment, setting intentions, and the sacredness of nature. There were endless spells, rituals, and symbols that seemed silly to Ewan, but he began to realize that most were just ways of focusing intentions or used as a meditation aid.

~~~~

Two Sundays later, Ewan returned to the village, skipping the fudge shop and heading straight to the Isa's cottage.

On the top shelf of her little library, wrapped in a ribbon, was a copy of Witchcraft for Dummies. Ewan laughed. He marched to the front door and knocked.

A smile lit Isa's face when she opened and saw Ewan. She looked as lovely as before, wearing an even more colorful ankle-length skirt and a plain white t-shirt. Again, her feet were bare.

Ewan held up the book.

"You calling me a dummy?" he said.

Isa grinned and shrugged. "Not everyone was born into the craft like I was. Gotta start somewhere. D-do you want to come in, Ewan?"

Inside, Ewan sat at the dining table while Isa prepared tea.

The house was cool despite the heat of the day. The competing scents from the hanging herbs were stronger than before.

"Sorry for getting weirded out," he said. "That was rude as hell. It's taken me a while to realize that."

Pouring the tea, Isa said, "It was my fault. We were getting along so well. I was so comfortable with you I completely forgot the things I do aren't usual. I shouldn't have let myself get so uncentered. I should have been far more mindful"

"I don't exactly understand what you practice, Isa, but I can respect it. Would it be rude to ask to learn more about it? It seems like every witch has different ways of doing things."

"You... you really want to know? Oh, Ewan, I'd absolutely love to show you. We—"

The screech of a megaphone came from the street. A voice shouted, "Suffer not a witch to live" followed by many voices chanting the phrase over and over.

Isa took a breath. "Guess it's that time again. Come on... this will be fun."

~~~~

Pickup trucks and a passenger van with the name of a fundamentalist church filled the street in front of the cottage. A crowd of perhaps twenty men, women, and children were chanting. Some beat tambourines. Most waved hand-lettered placards:

"Suffer not a witch!"

"I am the way and the truth and the life"

"Repent!"

"Reject Satan"

"His Judgment Cometh and That Right Soon!"

Isa was prepared. From inside the door, she fetched a stack of posterboards. She held each over her head while she danced and twirled and laughed, shouting what was written on each poster:

"Love your neighbor as yourself - Luke 10:27"

"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you - Matthew 7:12"

"Do not judge, and you will not be judged - Luke 6:37"

"Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted you - Romans 15:7"

Ewan watched Isa dance, blowing kisses at the protesters and shouting bible verses back at them. She was clearly enjoying herself.

After 15 minutes of the angry chanting and ranting from the preacher with the megaphone, Ewan was ready to wade into the crowd and confront them until a car pulled up behind the protesters. Then came another. Several elderly residents Ewan recognized from his many walks through the village got out of their cars. Others arrived on foot, followed by the priest from the church.

Ewan feared for Isa's safety until he saw that the villagers and the priest were confronting the protesters, pressuring them to leave.

It took time, but after much shouting, the protesters got in their vehicles and left. Villagers waved greetings to Isa, picked up litter the protesters had left on the street and left as well. The priest stayed behind and approached Isa.

"Everything okay, Isa?"

"No harm done, Father Ron. Same as always," she said. "I think it's helpful for them to have me to vent their spleens too."

He chuckled. "They'll be back in a couple of months. You call me the moment they do and I'll activate the posse."

"Thank you, Father," she said.

He turned to Ewan and extended his hand. "Ewan, isn't it? I understand you've become a regular visitor to our community. Wonderful to finally meet you."

Ewan shook hands and exchanged pleasantries and Father Ron left.

~~~~

"I did not expect the villagers to support you like that," Ewan said when they went back inside.

"In small communities, people stick up for each other."

"They're okay that you practice witchcraft?"

"Oh, not everyone likes it, but they like outsiders coming here and harassing a resident even less. Plus, I think a few of them are afraid if they say anything I'll unleash bees on them."

"You—you can do that?"

Isa skewered him with a sour look. "No, Ewan. I can't do that. I can't change princes into frogs either. What do you think?"

Ewan turned his head, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Ewan," she said. "That was uncalled for. I get testy when those willfully ignorant fuckers show up to scream at me. I know you're trying to understand."

Isa looked glum for a moment then brightened. "Hey, speaking of bees, a few hives are ready for the first harvest now. Want to watch the process? You can help with the extraction too if you want."

"I'd love to, Isa. Are you going to do it naked?"

"Of course."

"Then I want to be naked with you."

~~~~

On the deck, Isa stripped and watched as Ewan did too.

"Nervous?" she asked.

"N-no. I've, uh, I've been practicing walking around my apartment in the nude these past two weeks. It really is freeing."

Naked, Ewan stood as Isa looked him up and down.

"Disappointed?" Ewan said.

"How could I be? You trust me enough to be clothing free with me. Now, you'd better stay here on the deck. I'll open one of the closer hives so you can watch."

Isa prepared a smoker then stood at the edge of the deck, held her hands out and mouthed some words, eyes closed. She strode to the closest hive.

Ewan watched, adjusting to the sensation of the noon sun and light breeze on his naked skin. The yard was completely isolated from the street and nearby houses. He scanned the edges of the yard anyway.

Isa was enchanting, moving with slow purposeful grace as she squirted puffs of smoke, removed the top of the hive and puffed more smoke inside. When she pulled up the first frame it was crawling with bees. Ewan gasped, afraid they would swarm her, but Isa gently removed them with a brush.

Ewan found the vulnerability of Isa's nudity contrasted with the ominous menace of the circling bees deeply moving. Courage, trust, confidence, skill. It was the most inspiring and sexiest thing he had ever seen.

Inside the cottage, Isa walked Ewan through the steps of extracting honey from each frame. He was so engrossed he completely forgot they were both naked.

In the end, jars of fresh golden honey sat on the counter. Again, Isa closed her eyes, stretched out her hands and mouthed a saying.

When she finished, Ewan waited a moment then asked, "What was that?"

"Oh, I was expressing gratitude to the Goddess for the abundance. Take nothing for granted." She took a deep, cleansing breath. "So how was it, Ewan?"

"Amazing. You are amazing, Isa. You aren't scared when you're out there surrounded by bees?"

"I'm wary. If I dropped a frame or something else startled the bees, I'd be in trouble. I have to release my fears beforehand. I trust in my power and know the universe is on my side."

"So... confidence is key?"

"I believe it's more than that, but sure, that's part of it." She paused. "I wish I could summon some more confidence right now."

"For what?"

Isa took both his hands. "To do this," she said and kissed him.

Her lips were soft but insistent. She pulled his arms around her, bringing their naked bodies together for the first time. Ewan felt his cock rising and hoped Isa didn't mean for their embrace to be chaste.

They parted. Isa's eyes searched his.

"Was that okay?" she asked.

"Perfect, Isa."

"Will you join with me, Ewan?"

"Is that, uh, a ritual of some kind?"

"There are sex magick rituals. Right now, though, what I'm asking is... do you want to stay and fuck until dawn?"

~~~~

Isa's bedroom was on the cramped second floor, but she asked Ewan if they could share their first time together outside.

Both naked, she took his hand and led him down the length of the back yard, past the long row of hives. Ewan warily eyed the bees coming and going until they passed the last hive and stood at the end of the yard where it met the forest. Ewan saw a narrow path leading into the trees.

"I have a clearing in the woods," Isa said. "There's a fire circle and space to dance and celebrate. I can show you when the moon is out, if you like." She threw her head back and raised her arms to the sky. "Right now, let's join under this blessed day."

She pulled Ewan down to the grass and lay half on top of him. He pulled her in for a kiss, cupping a hand behind her head then smoothing it down her back to her naked rump.

Isa found his hardening cock and stroked him.

"I want you so much, Isa."

He tried to roll on top of her, but she guided him back.

"I want you too. We have lots of time, Ewan. I want to explore you. I want you to explore me. Savor each other and fuck slow and with intention. Can we do that?"

"Is that how you always like it?"

"Oh, no. Later you can grab me and fuck my brains out anytime you like. Our first time is special, though."

Ewan kissed her and glided a hand over her breast, feeling the heft and shape, teasing the nipple to attention. That drew a happy sigh from Isa.

Isa ran the back of her hand over his hard cock then teased his balls with light touches that sent electric tingles through him. She tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him in for another kiss and guided his hand down to her center. Ewan found her sopping wet. He slipped two fingers through her folds gathering her slickness and used it to circle and tease around her clit without making direct contact.

Isa threw her head back and moaned with unashamed joy. Seeing her exposed neck, Ewan bent to plant light kisses and tiny nibbles on the tender skin. Isa gasped and wriggled, grabbing his cock and stroking. She lost her grip when Ewan slid lower to tease her collarbone then the skin above her breasts before lightly flicking his tongue across one erect nipple then the other.

Isa grabbed his head, trying to mash his face to her breast but he resisted, plucking at her nipples with his lips until she groaned and arched her back in frustration. His hand still explored all around her pussy with light touches and strokes.

"Okay, okay," she breathed. "Maybe we don't need to explore so much. She urged Ewan on top of her, but he resisted.

"Na uh," he said. "Slow and with intention, remember?"

Isa growled, dropping her head back onto the grass. "You're driving me insane," she said.

"Just a little more exploring, okay?" Ewan said. Opening his mouth wide, he sucked as much of one breast into his mouth as he could, swabbing the nipple with his tongue while using two fingers to circle the opening of her needy pussy, stroking down over her clit with his thumb.

Isa gasped, jamming her hips up against his probing hand and grabbing his head to force it hard against her breast.

"Oh fuck, oh shit. You're going to make me come!"

"Not yet, Isa. Not yet."

Continuing to tease around her pussy, he thoroughly exploring her wonderful breasts: licking up from the bottom and across the nipple, then nipping and nibbling then nursing like a baby.

Isa's breathing was fast and getting ragged. She kept trying to guide him on top of her or push him onto his back so she could ride him. Ewan thwarted every attempt, using hands and mouth to drive her more and more wild.

She was beyond ready when he kissed down her tummy and nipped at the untamed bush guarding her pussy. He was fascinated. Everyone he had ever been with was completely shaved or had trimmed their fur to near nothing. It figured a witch would stay natural and Isa was wild and untrimmed. Her moisture collected like dew on the hairs and her scent was full, fresh and so ferally feminine he wanted to throw himself on her and fuck her like a beast.

Instead, he held her desperately writhing hips and pressed the flat of his tongue into her swollen cunt. Isa gurgled and jammed her hips skyward, clawing the grass with one hand and the back of Ewan's head with the other.

He teased. He licked. He circled her opening with the tip of his tongue, tasting her coppery flavor, immersed in her heady womanly scent.

Isa lost any ability to speak. She became a writhing, desperate embodiment of lust. She moaned. She groaned and growled and mewled as Ewan toyed with her, learning her responses, eager to give her the most intense pleasure he could.

He drove her to the peak then backed off, repeating it twice until it seemed she could take no more. Finally, he pushed two fingers inside her, curling them against her g-spot and took the tiny bud of her clit between his lips. He sucked gently but quickly.

Isa drew a sharp gasp, mashed his face into her lifting hips and exploded. Ewan felt her passage begin clenching around his fingers, flooding with more moisture. Looking up, he saw her head sag to one side, mouth wide and eyelids fluttering. She was flushed from forehead to the top of her boobs. Her orgasm wracked her body again and again and Ewan kept still, not wanting to ruin her bliss with overstimulation.

When finally Isa finally went limp, Ewan was laying on top of her between her spread legs, cock poised. She drew her eyes open and focused on him just as he slowly pushed into her, stretching her open halfway then retreating and impaling her completely.

Isa's eyes went glassy and half-lidded. Ewan held himself deep in her snug slick cunt until her focus returned, then began fucking the beautiful witch with purpose.

Ewan had never experienced a woman come just from penetration, but Isa did. He railed her with deliberate, steady strokes, eyes locked with hers until she gasped, her mouth going and her eyes glazing over. He paused to savor her rhythmic grasping of his cock then started again.

The third time Isa came, Ewan could hold back no longer. She grunted when he jammed into her once then twice and let go. All awareness fled as he flooded her with pulse after pulse, feeling impossibly huge inside her, feeling such love, lust and protectiveness for her he feared his heart would explode.

Isa locked her legs around him and embraced him as he emptied into her, offering herself completely and mouthing an affirmation of gratitude to the Goddess, the God and Mother Earth.

~~~~

Ewan had always been self-conscious whenever asked to dance, but that night was special. Tipsy on Isa's homemade mead, he watched her sway before the fire in the forest clearing then joined in when her swaying became a dance.

Her naked form, writhing with sinuous abandon in the firelight, woke a primal longing in his soul. With a smile, he began moving his naked body in time with hers.

There was no music save the syncopated beat of their feet on the packed earth, but he found it easy to move in unison with her. Perhaps he was guided by the universal rhythm of Mother Earth that hummed with a relentless force in the trees surrounding them, in the fireflies flitting in the brush, and in the lustrous moon overhead.

Isa danced wild and free, arms and face raised to the moon, her breasts swaying as much as her hips. Ewan was awed by her beautiful body and beautiful spirit.

He jumped when someone emerged from the path that led back to the cottage. No: two people.

Isa's elderly aunts, both naked.

They nodded a greeting to him and to Isa and joined the dance around the fire, raising their arms, swaying and stepping in perfect time to the unheard rhythm. Isa smiled at him from across the leaping flames.

Guess it's a family celebration, he thought. He would have to ask Isa about it later, he thought.

Ewan stole glances at the aunt's aged timeworn bodies, expecting to be revolted. He found them beautiful in their own way.

Isa might look the same in a few decades. Ewan hoped the relationship they were developing together would last long enough for him to find out.