Wedding Meadow free porn video

I was sitting in the lobby of Sea-Tac Airport, August 14th, reading my Kindle waiting for my flight to be called when this woman stumbled in front of me. “What the hell you do that for?” she yelled at me.

I looked up at her, “What are you talking about. I’m just sitting here.”

“You fucking well know, you tripped me!”

God, I hadn’t expected to meet the Wicked Witch of the West in the airport. I looked her up and down quickly. Who knew the Wicked Witch could look like that!

“Lady, you might be gorgeous, but you’re apparently clumsy as hell to make up for it. I was sitting here, you stumbled.”

She was still muttering when she found a seat far away from me. I went back to my kindle, but the view of that ass in those tight denim jeans was embedded in my eyes. Tits weren’t half bad, either!

I couldn’t get my interest back into the book on my Kindle. Too damn bad she’d turned out to be such a she-devil. I couldn’t help but glance in her direction, though, damn!

Fifteen minutes later, they called for boarding of my plane. I was going to a wedding in some god-forsaken place way out in the middle of nowhere mountains, Eastern Oregon. They told me I’d be sleeping in a god-damned tent, of all things!

Unfortunately, the groom was my best friend. We’d been together since we were kids, until he moved to a tiny little town in Eastern Oregon, Ukiah, population 191. After college, he’d gone to work for the US Forest Service and they had a big office there. He said big, but he also told me there were only five employees. I’m not sure exactly how he defines that as ‘big’.

We’d grown up in Sammamish, a suburb of Seattle, not big… but I guess if five employees is ‘big’, Sammamish is gigantic. Population 45,870. We'd been best friends since his family moved there when we were in the third grade. I’m still there, but in my own little house.

Anyway, Brian had sent me a picture of a girl he met in Pendleton while he was looking for a place to live in Ukiah; a cute petite redhead, going to Blue Mountain Community College to be a nurse. He’d kept me updated on their romance and now they were going to be married tomorrow. That’s why I was flying to Pendleton, to be the best man at his wedding.

As I was boarding the plane and found my seat, I didn’t give a lot more thought to the wicked witch. Until I heard an ‘oh crap!’ and she sat down beside me. Just who I wanted for a seat-mate. NOT! How the hell do you start a conversation with someone who already hates your guts? ‘Hi, I think you have a great ass and tits.’ Nah, don’t think that’d work so well with her. Maybe best to just try and ignore her. Besides, a ladies’ man I'm not. Course, this was no ‘lady’, either.'

Apparently, the somewhat same conclusion must have run through her mind as well. She never said a word to me, either.

The plane took off on the two-hour flight to Pendleton. I hated to sit and ignore the person next to me for a full two hours. It’s a small plane, two narrow seats on each side of the aisle, so it wasn’t exactly like I could pretend to be visiting with the person on the opposite side. Forty minutes into the flight, when neither of us had said a word, I couldn’t take it any longer and thought maybe if I mollified her, we could at least have a civil conversation.

“Okay,” I told her, “I admit it, You’re attractive and I just wanted to meet you. Sorry about that.”

“Asshole!”

Well, that worked out well. She scooted as far away as she could in the narrow seat, maybe another quarter-inch or so, closed her eyes and let it be known she didn’t want any conversation. Fine! I could play that game, too. I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep, but the fragrance of that perfume just wouldn’t go away. Didn’t she know you’re not supposed to wear perfume on an airplane? Guess not. Either that or she just didn’t give a damn. I ignored her the rest of the trip. A little hard to keep my eyes off those legs, though.

We landed in Pendleton, I grabbed my one bag from the overhead and paid no attention to her sexy ass as she walked down the aisle right in front of me. Really. I didn’t. Much.

Then I stepped out of the plane… into a freakin’ furnace! Crap, Brian didn’t tell me that Pendleton was a damned oven. People live here? Voluntarily? Just the short walk from the plane to the terminal was excruciating. Thank God it wasn’t far. And especially that I didn't live here.

Brian was there waiting for me, along with Cathy, his fiancée. “Devon, thanks for coming, man,” Brian told me, “you’re gonna love it up there.” I doubted it.

Then, Cathy greeted the witch, much the same way. “Dev, I guess you met Sabrina on the flight over?” Brian asked me. I tried not to roll my eyes in dismay.

“Sabrina’s my maid of honor,” Cathy announced, “she tell you that?”

Uh, no. How do I mention that the only word ‘Sabrina’ (what an appropriate name!) had said to me on the entire flight was ‘asshole’. Sabrina put a forced grin on her face, more like a grimace masquerading as a grin, and said, “We met.” Guess she didn’t want to get into the circumstances of that ‘meeting’, either.

“How damned hot is it out there?” I asked Devon.

He laughed, “Wondered if you’d notice, coming from Seattle. It’s a hundred-three, supposed to be a hundred-nine later this afternoon.”

The witch groaned, “It was sixty-seven when I left the car at the airport.”

We’d gone outside in the sweltering heat again. “It’s not… gonna be like this… all weekend, is it?” I prayed to God it wouldn’t!

Another laugh, “Nah, It’ll be a couple of degrees cooler where we’re camped.” Shit! He’s gotta be kidding. This heat… and we’re outside? No air conditioning? “Just kidding… it’ll be at least twenty degrees cooler up in the mountains.” I glared at the butthead. NOT funny. I did a quick calculation. That still left it almost ninety.

Brian had a two-seat, four-door, Ford F-150 pickup. He and Cathy climbed in the front seat, leaving the back seat to the witch and me. It’s wide enough to seat three fairly comfortably, but the way Sabrina and I hugged our doors, there would have been room for two adults in-between. This was going to be a loonnngg weekend!

If it hadn’t been for my ice-cold seatmate on the trip to where they were camped, it would have been a very enjoyable trip. About twenty miles past the little town of Pilot Rock, through mostly desert sagebrush and dry grass, Brian pointed out an ancient, old house and barn a couple of hundred yards off the highway, “Used to be a stagecoach stop between Ukian and Pilot Rock,” he said.

I didn’t know Oregon had desert-like that and mentioned it to Brian. I thought Oregon was wet and green. “Nah,” he said, “that’s Western Oregon. There’s way more desert than anything in Oregon.” He went on, “We’re camped in a forest, but a little further south, it’s almost all desert.”

Surprised the hell out of me! Of course, the hundred-and-three degrees was a bit of surprise, too.

I had to admit that it was beautiful. We went through the tiny town of Ukiah on the way, it's in a huge, meandering, green meadow, probably five or six miles in every direction. He pointed out the Forest Service office where he works. It is an impressive building; he said the center column supporting the roof is a big, whole fir tree. There’s an outhouse out front, next to the parking lot, for the public to use.

I could see why the outhouse, we were out in the middle of nowhere, there’s one store and the ‘Ukiah Thicket’; a little tavern/café where he said hunters gather after traipsing through the ‘thickets’ all day looking for a deer or elk.

Then, several miles past Ukiah, we went through a huge forest fire burn from several years ago. Brian said that was why he was working here; they were trying to reforest it and study the after-effects of the fire. The burned-out area went on for miles and miles, then there was a tiny little pocket that hadn’t burned, a historic Forest Service cabin and a few acres of green trees around it that they’d managed to save.

After winding through the forest another ten miles or so, we stopped at a tiny, little creek, named, appropriately enough, ‘Big Creek’. Hey, no kidding, you can’t make this stuff up! It’s a beautiful little creek; right below the culvert under the highway, it opened into a hole with little fish and beautiful, colored gravel and sand. Even the witch seemed to enjoy it. She took her shoes off and waded out into the water, first dipping her big toe and giggling how cold it was. God, even her toes were sexy!

I think it’d been far too long since I’d been with a woman. Matter of fact, I couldn’t even remember how long the last time had been. Never thought I’d have thought of a witch as being sexy. Of course, I’d never seen a witch that looked like that, either.

Witch chatted with Cathy and occasionally Brian, but never acknowledged that I was on the same planet. Prob’ly just as well, not sure what that ‘acknowledgment’ might have consisted of, undoubtedly a pretty strong hint to the happy couple that things weren’t perfectly fine between their best man and maid of honor. No reason to spoil their wedding.

The rest of the trip was just as pretty. We went through what’s called ‘Trout Meadows’, another big, beautiful meadow with a tiny, meandering creek, scattered trees and tall mountains in the background. I'd love to get back there at sunset with my camera. What a beautiful spot for a sunset picture.

Brian glanced in the rearview mirror, “I know what you’re thinking, buddy, beautiful spot, hunh? Lots of elk in this meadow at sunset, too,” he interjected.

God, I don’t think I’d ever seen anywhere like it! So different from Seattle and Western Washington. No wonder Brian loves it here, I thought.

I wondered if we were ever going to get there. We came to the North Fork, John Day River and drove up it until Brian finally pulled over in a tiny wide spot. “This is where the wedding’s going to be,” he announced. I looked around, nothing. Well, not ‘nothing’, but not a place for a wedding, either, just forest with a narrow highway through it.

“Here?” I asked him, surprised.

Brian and Cathy both laughed, Witch looked at me like I must be the dumbest person on the face of the planet. Finally, Brian took mercy on me, “Not RIGHT here, but out through there,” pointing to a little trail through the Aspens. We all got out and walked a hundred yards or so, until the trail opened up into another meadow, this one small but absolutely gorgeous; tall, green grass, surrounded by a beautiful Aspen tree grove and a mountain peak straight ahead of us.

He found a spot in the meadow and told us, “Built a little pole gazebo, going to put right here and we’ll be underneath it,” then pointed to the peak, “with that in the background.”

God, what a perfect spot for a beautiful wedding! “How the hell, how’d you find this spot?” I asked him.

He grinned, “Cathy and I were just looking for a nice place and found this. Nice, huh?”

Even Witch seemed impressed, “I love it!” she said.

“You wanna know something interesting?” he asked us.

“Yeah, sure,” I said, having no idea what he was getting at.

“Those aspens… that big grove, did you know aspen groves are the biggest organisms on Earth?” Huh, what? I didn’t know what he was talking about. “The whole grove, it’s all one big tree, all interconnected, a single root system for the whole grove.”

God, I looked around, there must have been a thousand trees, and he’s saying it’s all one?

It was another mile up to their camp spot, a place called Peavee Meadow; right alongside the river, which didn’t seem like a ‘river’ at all, but another small stream. It had a sand-gravel bottom, the same pretty, gold-colored as Big Creek, with clear, very cold-looking water tumbling down. I reached down and felt the water. It was every bit as cold as it looked.

I realized something; since leaving Pilot Rock, we'd passed a grand total of one car. Almost a hundred miles, one car!

Brian and Cathy had a travel trailer set up in the camp underneath trees with a stone fire ring in front. Their parents were in another spot a couple of hundred yards up the river. I’d never camped, but if I did… this is where I’d want it to be. It’s not a ‘campground’, just a pretty spot in the forest.

I sort of wondered where I’d be sleeping, though. There was a small, single tent set up. I presumed there.

It’d been over seven hours since I’d had breakfast at my house in Sammamish and was hungry. Brian fired up his grill and threw on some hamburgers for the four of us. I didn’t realize how good a grilled hamburger in the mountains can be. Of course, it didn’t hurt, how hungry I was, either. Still nothing from Witch.

After we ate, it was mid-afternoon and Brian asked if I’d go help him with the gazebo, so we loaded it in his pickup and headed down to the wedding meadow. He’d peeled the logs, stained them and bolted them together to make a little cover, about six-feet wide.

We carried it over to the spot, then set it in the base he’d built and stood back, looking. It looked good, really good. I hadn’t noticed, but he also had a lot of greenery in the pickup that we carried over and wrapped over and around, giving it a much more decorative look.

When we got back to camp, Cathy and Witch were in the river, splashing and appearing to have a wonderful time. And no wonder, it was still hot. Cathy was in a one-piece and Witch in a bikini; a triangle-shaped, string-bikini. Like I’d said, it had been a long time and, witch or not, I was almost instantaneously hard. She had almost waist-length, jet-black hair, I guess appropriate for a witch; flat tummy; curved hips; and god, that ass and tits! Nothing too shabby about her pixie-like face, either. I’m guessing she was probably close to twenty; she looked a few years younger than my twenty-five. But maybe witches age differently than normal people.

I tried to not stare but kept averting my eyes from that direction, trying to remember what she thought of me and the kind of personality she seemed to have. I wanted nothing to do with her!

I don’t know if she shaved or what, but that little triangle was tiny and there wasn’t a single hair poking out; not that I noticed.

We spent that evening sitting around the campfire, taking pictures, roasting marshmallows and visiting. Brian had us in stitches with some of his experiences trudging around the mountains for the Forest Service, like the time he was sure a tree falling behind him was a bear attacking him, waving his arms mimicking the ‘bear’ and his voice screeching like he said he had been trying to scare away the bear; perhaps, a small exaggeration.

Around ten, we decided it was time for bed. I still wasn’t sure about the sleeping arrangements, and Brian cleared his throat, obviously a little nervous, said, “We… uh… only have one tent… but there’s two sleeping bags.”

And he was suggesting what, exactly? I thought I was getting the picture... and wasn't liking it, that they expected Witch and me to be in the same tent. A little tent. It looked barely big enough for two people.

“Cath, I don’t think…” Witch started to say.

“Hon, I don’t know what else to do, there’s only room for the two of us in the trailer. We figured as long as it’s two bags that you guys’d be fine.” What she wasn’t saying was, ‘we didn’t know you’d despise each other.’

Witch rolled her eyes and just said, “Fine!” then looked at me and told me, in a not very attractive tone, one that I’d come to get kind of used to from the witch, “Me first. I’ll yell when you can come in.”

Brian and Cathy sat at the campfire with me while Cathy’s friend (how the hell did a nice girl like Cathy meet someone like that?) got ready for bed. Several minutes later, we heard the yell from inside the tent, “I’m ready, you can come in.”

She had pushed her bag as far away as she could and as soon as I opened the fly and stepped inside, she announced, “Don’t you dare…”

“Sweetheart, I wouldn’t want to quick-freeze my dick off!” Maybe that was a little crude, but she deserved it.

Witch had her bag pulled up tight around her neck and her nose in the opposite wall so I could undress in at least some degree of privacy. Good thing, too. God, I was horny!

I discovered two things that night: One, it might be hot during the day, but it gets C O L D in the middle of the night; Second, that that sleeping bag is NOT a cold-weather bag. I spent the majority of the night shivering, rather than sleeping. Pretty sure I heard Witch’s teeth chattering from the cold as well. I thought about that other warm body in the tent more than once.

The next day was the day of the wedding. Their parents spent the morning setting up and decorating tables in the meadow we were camped in for the reception dinner. One of Cathy’s friends showed up mid-morning with flowers and the cake and Brian’s dad was busy with a prime rib and barbecue ribs on his pellet grills.

When it got close to the wedding time, Brian and I got dressed in his trailer. It wasn’t formal, but he looked good in his sports jacket and slacks. I hadn’t brought a jacket but did have a nice, short-sleeved shirt and slacks. I brushed my teeth, shaved, and when I looked in the mirror, thought I didn’t look half bad. Not that I was trying to impress anyone, least of all, Witch. I started to have pangs of conscience, that I needed to be nice, think of her as Sabrina, rather than Witch. Nah, Witch is fine. Appropriate.

Brian and I drove down the highway to the little wide spot, followed by his parents. It was filled with half a dozen cars. Brian said they hadn’t wanted a big crowd so just invited very close family and friends. Brian, his parents and I walked over to the ‘Wedding Meadow’ as he called it and waited. There were maybe a dozen people there, in the folding chairs the parents had brought and set up.

The preacher was a guy from Pendleton that apparently Brian knew somehow. How he had enticed him this far out in the wilderness for a wedding, I’ll never know. When the clock ticked around to the actual time, Brian waited in front with the preacher and I walked to the back as I’d have to walk Witch up the ‘aisle’, arm-in-arm. Oh, joy!

When she and Cathy walked down the little path, I was like, Wow! Cathy had on a tight, satiny-white dress, showing off her petite figure to perfection, full length, with a short train. She was beautiful! Witch, on the other hand, was wearing a light green, silky dress, deep ‘V’ between her breasts, low-cut back and short, several inches above her knees, hemline. I was reminded again by the bulge in my pants that it had been a very long time since… you know what.

I stepped over and took Witch’s arm and whispered in her ear, “Think we can be civil for half an hour?” She looked at me and smiled, grudgingly, I could tell. Another of those grimaces masquerading as a smile.

The wedding was every bit as beautiful as I’m sure Cathy had imagined her wedding to be, probably since she was a little girl. Witch and I were all smiles throughout and afterward for the pictures. The only problem was one that we had all prepared for, or thought we had – mosquitoes. We’d slathered our bodies with repellent, but they were still incessant, billions of the little things. There had been some around the campfire the night before, but not like this.

After the pictures, we drove up the river about a quarter-mile where there’s a hidden, little picturesque footbridge across the river for more pictures. The happy couple was exuberant and a model of love and affection toward each other.

Witch and I did our best to not despoil the happy atmosphere. My arm was around her much of the time and if you hadn’t known better, you’d have thought we liked each other. Of course, my arm around that smooth skin and silky dress was doing things to me that I’d rather not have. Or maybe, would have, if we would be able to actually do something about later. THAT sure as hell wasn’t going to happen, though! Not that I’d have let it even if she had been willing. Like I said, I wouldn’t have wanted to freeze my dick off.

More pictures at the dinner, with the cake, throwing the garter and bouquet, and the obligatory dances. Even on the dirt and grass, Witch was a smooth dancer with her arms around my shoulders. I hoped there was enough space between us that she wouldn’t notice the bulge. She didn’t smell even remotely like I’d imagine a witch would smell.

Then we were free to change back into something more comfortable. All except Brian and Cathy; they had to stay in their wedding clothes up until the very end. I'd changed into a pair of shorts and Witch had as well. It was hot outside!

Some of Brian and Cathy’s friends had stuck around until later in the evening and we sat around the bonfire again. I wasn’t looking forward to going to bed and spending another night freezing in the refrigerator of our tent. Witch had pretty much reverted to her loathing of my very existence. I thought it was almost funny, all over a simple misunderstanding. Surely, she knew by then that I hadn’t tried to trip her in the airport terminal.

I don’t think she was particularly looking forward to bedtime and freezing again, either. We stayed around the campfire quite a bit later. Everyone else had left as they had a long way to drive back home and I was sure Brian and Cathy were anxious to enjoy their wedding night. We’d both mentioned that it was cold at night, so before they went to bed, Brian suggested, “You know, if you zip the bags together, it’d be a lot warmer.”

Yeah, right. As if that was going to happen! At least I thought not, until, after everyone else had gone to bed, Witch said, “It was so cold last night!” She looked at me, asking, “Think we could? Would it be too weird?”

Weird? Yeah, most definitely! Too weird? That’s an entirely ‘nother question. I couldn’t help but remember shivering in the cold all night. “Guess we could try it,” I told her.

Together, we went to the tent, took the bags apart and spread hers out on the bottom, then mine on top and zipped them together. It didn’t look any warmer. But, hopefully…

I waited outside, sitting by myself at the fire, while Witch climbed in. I couldn’t help but think about Brian and Cathy in their trailer, not only in the warm, but ‘in the warm’ in more ways than one. I expected they were already enjoying themselves, the culmination of their day.

Finally, Witch called out that she was ready. I went inside and, like last night, she was snuggled off to one side, her face to the tent, and I undressed down to my shorts. I pulled the covers open just a little and climbed in, feeling bare skin against mine.

I jerked away, then scrambled out of the bag, “What the hell,” I screeched, “You’re naked!”

She acted indignant, SHE did! “Of course I am. I always sleep naked.”

“In OUR sleeping bag! I thought you were cold!” I was still screeching. Didn’t even think about Brian and Cathy hearing the commotion emanating from our tent.

Witch just looked up at me with those baby-doe eyes, like it was the most natural thing in the world, “It’s the only way I can sleep. You can sleep on top of the covers if you want.”

On top! Hell, I froze inside last night. I grumbled a little more and climbed back inside, trying a little harder to keep distance between us. Last thing I needed was for Witch to discover how damned hard my schlong was.

I rolled over, my back to her and felt her scoot over so her butt, back and legs were up against mine. “Only way to keep warm,” she explained.

Yeah, warm in more ways than one! I’d almost rather be cold and shivering.

I lay there, this gorgeous, naked, twenty-year-old she-devil snuggled up against my back, trying to go to sleep. No way in hell! I thought about how she’d felt with my arms around her earlier in the day, that silk dress, dancing with her, and almost forgot she was a witch. Almost. I was pretty damn sure she was torturing me on purpose. God, I was horny. Naked! Hell!

After the little bit of sleep the night before, I did finally doze off, still feeling the warmth from her body all through me. Sometime later during the night, I woke up again. This time, Witch had rolled over, her arm across my chest, bare breasts pressed against me, a leg thrown over mine and her face snuggled in the crook of my neck. I couldn’t move. I didn’t dare. She was breathing deep and slow, obviously asleep.

Any movement on my part and I’d be pulling her over on top of me, pulling her lips to mine, witch or no witch! She was a devil-woman in disguise; a black widow ready to devour me if I moved even a single muscle. If I’d thought my dick was hard before, I was severely mistaken. She made a small wriggle, squeezing a little tighter to me. Maybe she was just subconsciously cold and looking for warmth. But, God, a man can only take so much! I thought back to the last time I’d been with a woman, trying to remember when it had been; over three months before, a few days before my girlfriend broke up with me. We’d had an active, very energetic sex-life. Then nothing, for three-plus, long months! Even she hadn’t smelled sweet and feminine like this witch in the sleeping bag with me!

Her leg was spread out, over mine. I couldn’t feel any hair on her pussy. Of course that part of her was against my shorts… pressing against my hard-as-rock dick, nothing separating her from me except the stretched-out fabric of my Buck Naked underwear. Damn good thing I’d thought to button the one, lonely button on the fly. It was the only thing averting naked cock against naked pussy. And it was the only clothes I was wearing. It was more than Witch was wearing.

We lay like that for hours, Witch sleeping, me suffering. If I had thought the cold was uncomfortable, the warmth of her body was a thousand times worse. She occasionally squirmed in her sleep, rubbing her body against me, every tiny movement a torment to control my raging libido.

I think it was the biggest relief I’d ever felt in my life when I started to see some daylight begin to penetrate the tent. Except that it got light early; between four and five AM. I didn’t know exactly because the morning before I hadn’t looked at my watch when the frozen me saw the first daylight poking through. I knew, though, that there were still several hours before getting-up-time.

She’d wiggled around so that her lips were no more than an inch from mine. I could feel her warm breath against my cheek. I knew that if I moved my head and closed that inch, she’d hate me forever for taking advantage. Well, she hated me anyway, but still…

When I finally did feel her start to awake, I closed my eyes and began breathing deeply, like I was asleep. I wished I could see her as she realized what she’d done during the night, how she’d wrapped her body around mine. And hopefully, she’d just accept my hard-on as normal male morning-wood.

I feigned sleep until she dressed and left the tent, then waited another half-hour or so before beginning to move and get dressed, so she wouldn’t think she’d awakened me.

I had nicknamed this woman ‘Witch’. I needed something much harsher, more realistic. She had tortured me way beyond my ability to resist. I had, though, and was somewhat proud of myself for that. Not that it made it any easier.

I dressed, then climbed through the tent door, rubbing my eyes like I’d just awakened. Witch was sitting on a camp-chair so I asked her, “Sleep better? Boy, I did, like a log, didn’t feel a thing all night. So much warmer.” Hopefully, I was convincing.

She nodded, “I did, putting the bags together helped.” That was it. No embarrassment, no acknowledgment how she’d spent the night snuggled up to me, no nothing. At least she spoke to me without venom in her voice, that was an improvement.

“What time’s your plane leave?” Brian asked me. I looked at my watch, it was eight-fifteen.

“Noon, God, we gotta hurry.” It was a little over a three-hour drive getting up here, except we had stopped a couple of times.

Witch jumped up, too, “Just like a damned man to oversleep and try and make us miss our flight!” It wasn’t said with humor, either. Back to spite. That didn’t take long.

I thought seriously about asking her why she hadn't brought her broomstick to fly home on.

We both threw what little things we had in our bags and in the back of the pickup. There wasn’t any time for breakfast. Hungry, tired, still horny; it was going to be a long day, still with the witch.

At least we didn’t have seats next to each other on the flight back to Seattle. She didn’t have to pretend to be friendly, not that she would have in any case. And I didn’t have to smell her perfume, remember last night, her lips so close to mine, her tits. God, I was in a bad way!

There was no goodbye at the Seattle airport. Witch went to her car and I went to mine. It was a long drive back to Sammamish, remembering her pussy pressed against my cock, her tits pressed against my chest. Never to see her again. Good!

I heard from Brian at the end of the following week. He and Cathy had taken their honeymoon right there, spending another week in paradise. I’d never realized how enjoyable a camping trip could be… except for the witch, of course!

Two weeks later, I finally remembered the dirty clothes in my bag from the wedding. I thought I felt something in the pocket of my good shirt as I was putting it in the washer. It turned out to be an earring, an expensive-looking one, diamond. At least it looked like it; sure didn’t look like the costume jewelry I’d so often bought for Rachel, the girl who’d broken up with me. Maybe that was why – costume jewelry for gifts.

It had to be Witch’s. I groaned, knowing I had to return it to her. I had no idea where she lived or even her full name. And the last thing I wanted was to see her again. All I knew was Sabrina and it must be in the Seattle area somewhere, since we flew in and out together. I called Brian, explaining, “Hey bud, I found Wi…” caught myself just in time, “Sabrina’s earring in a pocket. You got her address or phone number?” He laughed, wondering how the hell her earring might have gotten in my pocket. I think he thought there was something nefarious going on. If only he knew! But we’d both tried to hide the scorn, at least somewhat.

Anyway, he said he didn’t, that she was Cathy’s friend but he’d find out from her and text me the information.

It was the next day when I got the text; Sabrina Stevenson, Kingston, and a cell phone number. It’s only forty miles, but across the Puget Sound so there was a ferry trip to get there. I called her that evening; she was thrilled, thinking she’d lost one of her expensive earrings that her parents had given her. Hell, she was even friendly! That was an improvement. She wanted to meet me, but I told her I’d be happy to bring it to her Saturday. “I’ll be home,” she answered.

The rest of the week I was nervous about meeting her on her turf. I didn’t know whether to look forward to it or fear it. At least she didn’t sound like she would be accusing me of trying to steal it. From our last parting, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

Saturday morning, I drove to Edmonds, where the ferry crosses to Kingston and waited with my car in line to get on the next ferry. At least I hoped the next one. It looked like at least a thousand cars lined up in front of me; row after row. I thought I was in the part of the parking that would get on the ferry, but since I hadn’t ever crossed there, I wasn’t certain.

I checked my pocket once again, to make sure I had the earring. Would have been just my luck to get there and not have the damned thing.

My car and I got on the ferry and two hours later, drove back off. I had Witch’s address in my car’s navigation system, another fifteen minutes. I realized I REALLY needed to get that terminology out of my head, her name is Sabrina, not Witch. Even if she is a witch.

I found the house, a duplex on the oceanfront. What a view she must have out the back of her house. I knocked on the door and she answered, wearing a loose pair of running shorts, leaving those legs, the one that spent the night thrown over my body, totally exposed. If only… I thought.

She invited me in and I handed her the earring. She smiled and showed me the matching one, explaining that they were an eighteen-year birthday gift from her parents. Strange, she didn’t seem at all like a witch.

“You like to see the house?” she asked me.

“Sure, love to.” Can you say 'Apprehensive?'

There’s a deck at the back of her house, overlooking the Sound. We stepped out on it, “Beautiful view,” I told her.

She looked at me, got a completely ‘non-evil’ grin on her face and closed the distance between us, pressing her lips against mine, then her tongue pressing mine apart and invading my mouth. We kissed like that, pulling closer and closer together, more and more heated.

Until she finally broke away, breathing hard, and whispered, “I wanted you to do that, that night, but you ignored me. I know you were awake. You rejected me. Why?”

I groaned, remembering the torment of that night, “I thought… thought you were asleep. Didn’t want to take advantage of you…you hated me... wanted you… so bad!” and couldn’t stand it any longer, pressing our lips back together again.

She pulled apart again, taking my hand and leading me into her bedroom. “I didn’t trip you, you know,” I told her.

She laughed, “I know, I was just embarrassed at my clumsiness,” then she added, “and besides, I’d just come off a pretty lousy relationship, and pretty much all men were… “

“Assholes?” I asked her, remembering her exact one and only word to me when I’d tried to ‘make nice’ on the plane.

She grinned, obviously remembering the same thing, “Yeah, exactly. Assholes!”

So she put us through that whole nightmare scenario of a wedding weekend because some jerkwad had been a shithead to her.

Witch, I guess she wasn’t, (well, maybe just a little) but by then it was habit, started to unbutton her blouse. I watched as she let it fall open, revealing a sheer, satin bra. “Take it off me?” she asked. I stepped a little closer and reached around her, pressing my lips to hers again, and unsnapped the bra strap behind her. She pulled back and let it fall off her. I’d felt those breasts pressing against me all night, but this was my first view of the topless girl. Of course, that bikini was pretty damned close, but close is a long way from bare. God, she was beautiful!

She stood, pushing her running shorts down, nothing on underneath them, either. Whether or not she was that night, I’ll probably never know for certain, but the woman before me was totally bare… and now totally naked. God! Four. Freakin’. Months. It had been.

I was speechless, unable to move. This I hadn’t expected, returning that earring. But she wasn’t an apparition before me, she was a real, living, gorgeous, sexy woman!

“You know, I thought of you as ‘witch’, the whole time.”

She giggled, didn’t say anything, just stepped forward, kissed me again and unsnapped my jeans, then pushed my t-shirt up over my head. My pants fell to the floor, she pushed down my ‘Buck Nakeds’ then pulled me down on top of her on her bed.

“Make love with me, Devon, I want you!”

She had tortured me for hours that night. I wasn’t about to give her what she wanted… at least not right away. I wrapped my lips around her left nipple and sucked it in, my fingers rubbed the lips of her pussy and she groaned. Her lips were baby-smooth and my fingers slipped inside her.

Sabrina was openly moaning and so was I, until she covered my lips with hers to muffle the noises. I could be muffled like that anytime! Her kiss was almost frantic, trying to consume my lips, until my fingers pressed deep inside her and she pulled back with a loud moan. “Please, Devon, please, I want you inside me!”

I couldn’t hold back a second longer, either. I pressed my cock to her wet, slippery pussy and pushed inside her, both of us groaning anew. Her legs wrapped around me and her pussy contracted, squeezing me.

I’d like to say that we made love like that for the next half hour before I came inside her. But I’d be lying. It had been four months by then since I’d been with a woman and this particular woman was the sexiest I’d ever been with, no competition. It was only three or four thrusts until the cum started rising inside me, then ejaculating into her. I hadn’t even thought about a condom or the possibility of pregnancy. We were way beyond that. There was no stopping my hard, deep thrusts as my cum exploded into her.

My body stiffened, Witch’s body was shuddering and she orgasmed along with me, her screams still sounding in my ears. There would be no ‘costume jewelry’ gifts for this woman!

We made love off and on the rest of the night, experimenting, discovering how much we enjoyed each other; Witch pressed over the back of her couch, legs spread wide; then me sitting in an armless chair, Witch sitting on me with my dick inside her cunt and her tit in my mouth.

Later, after we’d gone back to her bed, she laughed again when I called her ‘Witch’.

The following June, there was a second wedding in ‘Wedding Meadow’.

If it hadn’t been for that earring. I wonder…?

Thank you to cbears52 for the editing help