Читать книгу Naughtier Bedtime Stories - Joan Elizabeth Lloyd - Страница 6

IT WAS SPOKEN OF around the village, but only in whispers. Bret had heard about the Cave of Delight from his older brothers, not as fact but as something young men fantasized about. No one would admit to having searched for it, but everyone knew that in the twilight boys from the surrounding area wandered through the woods and searched at the foot of the nearby mountains. No one had ever found it, at least not that anyone knew.

The Cave of Delight. All one’s sexual fantasies came true inside. The most beautiful women would do anything to make you happy. But, according to the rumors, you could stay for only one night, after which you could never return. It would be a night worth whatever it cost, and Bret would pay any price.

So Bret searched. Every evening after working in his father’s fields, he would take off in a different direction and walk until it got dark, then find his way home by the light of the lantern he carried. And occasionally he didn’t return until morning. No one noticed, and he was completely at home out in the open.

One afternoon he finished his plowing, and, with a sack containing his lantern, a loaf of bread, and a small wheel of cheese, he took off in a new direction. Soon he would marry, he thought. The match had been arranged for him by his family, and he hadn’t yet seen the woman. It didn’t matter. Marriage was for bearing children—strong sons to work in the fields, beautiful daughters to help their mother and eventually marry into powerful families. Good loving? Bret sighed. He hoped so and would do whatever he could to make it so, but from what he knew of his married friends and brothers, it was usually rather ordinary. It would be comfortable sex every evening if he wanted.

As the shadows lengthened and the air cooled, he kept walking toward faraway hills. Suddenly he saw a rabbit disappear behind some rocks. Realizing that he’d never been aware of anything behind the small rockfall, he followed the rabbit. Finding a small passageway, he wiggled through the narrow opening and crawled through a low tunnel.

He heard water running and felt warm air on his face, and he kept crawling. Finally the tunnel sloped downward and widened. When the ceiling became high enough, Bret stood up and walked, ending up in a small cave. He looked around in the dim light, his eyes barely able to make out the rock walls and the small pool at the foot of a low waterfall. How could he see at all in a completely enclosed cave? Where was the faint illumination coming from? He shook his head and set his pack on a ledge.

He walked to the edge of the pool and dipped his fingers in the water. Rather than the cold of the springs near the farm, this water was almost hot. Again he looked around. Nothing but rock. He realized he was hot and sweaty and thought a dip in the warm spring would feel wonderful. He quickly stripped off his clothes and walked into the water. In the center, the water came up to his shoulders so he lifted his feet and floated on the smooth surface.

“I didn’t think you’d be able to swim,” a soft voice said.

Bret stood up and looked around the inside of the cave but saw no one. “Who’s there?” Nothing. He must have imagined the voice, but it had sounded so clear. After a few moments, he lifted his feet and put his head back, lifting his hips to the surface.

“Very beautiful,” she said.

Suddenly he realized that he was naked, and he stood so the water concealed his body. “Okay, stop fooling around. Who’s there?”

Her laugh was musical, and he knew that he’d never heard anything like it before. “Me,” she said.

Again Bret stood up. “And who’s me?”

“You can call me Marie.” There was a splash and he felt, rather than saw, a presence in the pool. Her head surfaced beside his, and he got a dim look at his companion. Although he couldn’t see her very well, he knew that she was beautiful. He couldn’t tell what color her long wet hair was nor could he see her eyes clearly, but her skin was like ivory, her neck long. She stood beside him, and she was almost as tall as he was.

“I just found this cave,” Bret said, “but I guess you’ve known about it for a while.”

“Oh yes. I come here often.” She ducked beneath the warm water, and he felt her hair brush against his flank as she swam below the surface. He reached down and grabbed at her and felt bare, soft flesh. Her buttocks? Was she as naked as he was?

She surfaced, and her musical laugh filled the cave. “So, you want to play.” Again she dove, and he felt hands on his thigh. Shaking his head, he, too, dove beneath the water and reached for anything he could touch. Her body was indeed naked, and his hands found her breasts and her ankles.

For long minutes, they dove, surfaced, laughed, and dove again, until Bret was breathless. Finally the two stood side by side in the water, panting. “You are very handsome,” she said when she could breathe easily again.

“And you are very beautiful,” he said.

Then her lips were against his, and the length of her lush body pressed his. Her hand cupped his head as the kiss lengthened. This wasn’t play anymore, and his body knew it. He was hard and her hand found him, circling his erection with long fingers.

When he groaned, she laughed, her joy obvious. “Wonderful,” she said, holding him under the warm water. She cupped his balls and touched the tender spot just in front of his anus. He reached for her and held her breasts, stroking the soft skin, teasing her hard nipples.

“You must stop,” he said.

“But why?” she asked.

“You don’t know what will happen if you continue.”

“Of course I do, silly. And it will be magnificent. I know.” She continued to knead his hardness, forcing him to concentrate on not spurting yet. This was too fantastic. Her hands felt so good touching him, and her breasts filled his hands. He slid his palms around to her back, then down to cup her buttocks. He lifted her, and she wrapped her thighs around his waist.

He pushed her upward and, as her head fell backward, took one turgid nipple in his mouth. He suckled, listening to her moans of pleasure, trying to extend their tender lovemaking. But he knew his body would wait no longer. He lowered her slowly along the length of his chest and was inside her with one smooth thrust, the water cushioning his movements. In perfect rhythm they matched their motions as his erection slid in and out of her slick passage. It was going to be too quick, he knew, as he felt his orgasm boiling in his belly. His fingers found her clit and he rubbed, trying to increase her obvious pleasure.

“Oh yes,” she screamed, and he felt small spasms ripple through her channel. His back arched, and too soon he erupted deep inside of her.

He didn’t make it home that night. They stayed together in the cave, sharing his bread and cheese and making love many more times. Finally she told him that he would have to leave. “I don’t want to go,” he moaned.

“I know, but you have to. You are allowed only one night.”

“This is the Cave of Delight?” he gasped.

“I thought you knew,” she said.

He was desolate. But he knew where the opening of the cave was, so he could find it again. He would. “I hadn’t thought about it, but I want to return.”

“I know, but it is impossible.”

Slowly he put his clothes back on, determined to come back that very night. He kissed her good-bye, and, as he crawled back through the tunnel, he heard her magical laugh.

He returned to the rocks that night, but there was no opening, no tunnel, no cave. Night after night he combed the rocks but, alas, no cave.

Months later, he was resigned to his marriage. Maybe she’d be more than he expected, yet she could never be Marie. Never.

Two days before his wedding, he traveled to his future wife’s village with his parents and his eldest brother. When they arrived at her family’s farm, he was seated in the small main room, and he watched as she slowly glided down the stairs. She was quite lovely, with long auburn hair and soft, white skin. “My name is Jane,” she said, “but my friends call me by my middle name, Marie.”

“Marie?” he said, pained by the coincidence.

“Yes,” she said, lowering her eyes. “You can call me Jane if you prefer.”

He had to forget the night in the cave. It was a fantasy, and this was reality. “Of course I will call you Marie.”

“And you are Bret. I like that name.”

They talked for a few minutes, then were called into the dining room for dinner. She went into the kitchen to help with the serving, and suddenly he heard her musical laugh. It was her laugh, the angel from the cave. She walked from the kitchen, still laughing. It was her. There could be no mistake. As she sat beside him, he whispered, “It was you, wasn’t it?”

“It was the cave of your delight, what you wanted most. Many have been there, and each gets what he most desires. You wanted a lover and a wife in one.”

“But how?”

“I do not know, and you must not reveal any of what happened or it will disappear. Just be content that we can have our desires for the rest of our lives.”

Bret couldn’t control his grin. He was the happiest and luckiest of men.