The Lady of the Lae

With trepidation and a sudden attack of shyness Hazel almost turns tail and runs for the refuge of her car. It was tempting. Who would even know she had chickened out?

Aside from her fiancé Alan, who right now was thousands of miles away across the Atlantic in Philadelphia on a work trip, she hadn't told anyone about the visit to Dr Kovalevich, let alone the details of his unconventional advice. She had wanted to take time to digest and decipher his words carefully, and she didn't want to be talked out of this. She knew his practices were not exactly normal, run of the mill, NHS stuff, which was the very reason she chose to travel 150 miles to see him three days ago. Sick and tired of being bounced around from her own doctor to 'specialist' and back again, she ventured onto the big wild, world wide web for advice on how to take a proactive approach in dealing with her haemochromatosis. Fellow sufferers were few and far between, even online, but when she stumbled across a forum with not one but five enthusiastic folk who simply swore by the expertise of a hiridutherapist she just had to give it a go. Finding one anywhere in Ireland, North or South of the border wasn't easy, but when she did she made the appointment straight away and never looked back. Until right now.

Looking back at her car parked up in a small leafy picnic spot along the opposite side of the country road, she chewed her bottom lip in indecision. About to abandon the evenings activity she stopped short as suddenly a flick book of all too fresh, uncomfortable memories flashed vividly through her mind.

Some days her physical struggles were all consuming and others days they just gnawed away, not disabling exactly, but restricting, and she just had far too much going on, too much still to achieve and enjoy in life, to allow it to keep happening. Having split with her ex-husband five years ago she was thrilled to meet Alan 18 months ago. Both in their early forties with four teenagers to keep tame between them, it was now time to start living as long and as hard as she so desired.

The grass has worn away on the bank to form a path down to the lake. Thankfully the weather had been rain free for at least a week, so the mud beneath her feet is dry and impacted, enabling her to climb down the six foot incline without stumbling. Arriving at the water's edge, her first obstacle successfully conquered, she pauses to enjoy her surroundings. It's 9pm and the sun is speedily preparing to set. The tree enclosed lake is dusky with delicate beams of light bouncing off the short shallow ripples on the surface.

She suddenly becomes aware of the low buzz of insects, and the crunching of the tiny pebbles underfoot, these the only sounds other than the throb of her racing pulse in her ears and slightly ragged breathing. She drops her bag and gasps aloud as her movement startles a moorhen, noisily scuttling back to its nest in the thicket of reeds to her right. Spurred on by the adrenaline buzzing through her veins she kicks off her shoes and sinks her toes into the gravel before pulling her dress over her head, folding it loosely on top of her shoes. Having forgone underwear for the sake of speed and convenience, she slips her glasses off and places them carefully on the pile, then pauses momentarily to enjoy the cooling evening air on her naked skin. Her thoughts run riot, buoyed on by the exhilarating fizzing in her veins.

***Oh now this is living. Nature is so beautiful. I feel amazing. I'm definitely going to do more of this in future. Much more! Can I persuade Alan to join me sometime? Perhaps I can find a naturist beach in Italy this summer, get him relaxed on a gallon of Prosecco...***

A 'plopping' sound as a fish breaks the surface brings her mind back to the task. As the ripples widen out on the water she grabs the ointment Dr Kovalevich had concocted himself and gave to her, with his simple but precise instructions, and quickly slaps it onto her skin. As her hands skirt over her body it becomes quite a task not to slow down and enjoy the sensation of slick wet cream on her lightly goosebumped flesh.

Her 5'2" petite frame is curvy but trim, having been blessed with a naturally speedy metabolism. The only weight she'd gained permanently during her pregnancies was in her breasts, now a 34F, and rounded hips that looked much better out of low rise jeans than in.

The tiny breeze filtering through trees and over the surface of the lake only serves to make her even more aware of her public nudity, as it brings to life her nipples, puckering up so hard they scratch her palms as she coats her ample bosom in the ointment. The soft skin of her inner thighs enjoy the gentle scratching of her engagement ring and her neatly trimmed nails as she leaves not an inch unanointed.

The ointment is to attract the leeches living in the water. She needs to disturb them from their foraging in the soft silty bed of the lake, and lure them up to feast on her instead. On her blood. The good doctor also gave her a spray, a natural mix of tree sap and enzymes that will encourage the leeches to gently drop off her body once she has been bled for approximately 15 to 20 minutes. He told her in a slightly mysterious tone than her body will let her know when it had enough 'blood letting', but now she wished she had forced him to expand on that bit of info.

Stepping forward she enjoys the cool caress of the water as it travels up over her ankles, calves and knees. Turning carefully in the water, doing a full 360, she looks around, rather belatedly perhaps, to ensure she is not being watched. It appears she is totally alone.

***What would I do if someone broke through those bushes right now and spied me, naked and vulnerable? Disappointed the coast is clear? No, silly, of course not. Well... Maybe...***

Confused to discover her immediate thought was not one of horror, she relaxes and even smiles to herself as she steps further into the middle of the lake, the deepening water swallowing her up until she is stood waist deep. Raising both feet and tilting her head back she allows herself to float, her arms extending out to either side.

Long tendrils of pond weed begin to stroke against her, gently massaging her spine, her hips, the sensitive twin cheeks that curve down to shapely legs. A throaty gasp breaks the near silence as a bunch of fine fronds find their way between her upper thighs. Flipping over in the water she soon discovers they feel just as good on her breasts and stomach too. Erotic even. Doggy paddling to stay afloat in that one patch of water, she spreads her legs, allowing the reeds to continue their daring journey around her lower torso until they find their goal, her goal.

Just as she totally relaxes and almost forgets why she is here, bathing alone in a lake, naked, she feels the first startling, but expected, bite on her calf. Trying to control her urge to reach down and flick the hungry leech off in disgust, she distracts herself by focusing on the blue flickering dance of some damselflies in the bullrushes ahead, weaving in and out, just about visible now that the light is fading fast.

As the leeches latch on to her skin in bigger numbers, too many to count, she decides to imagine they are tiny love bites piercing her skin, and relishes each dull sting as the ointment continues to work as promised. A stronger, thicker pond weed flicks over her hip, so she guides her body slowly and deliberately until her curiosity is satisfied. Delicious sensations of arousal as her labia is gently caressed coincide with an intense feeling of a, not unpleasant, light head.

Quickly ensuring her feet can touch the bottom, she decides to ride it out, knowing she is safe and not out of her depth, literally. Beginning to enjoy the floaty feeling of her brain, not just her body, she doesn't even jolt out of her dreamy reverie when she spots, in the nearest copse of trees, the distinctive outline of a person. The dark shadowy shape splits to reveal two people, adult in height and build. Now she is figuratively out of her depth.

Her natural instinct to bolt for cover is totally overshadowed by an intense, reckless feeling of bravado. She is here for a reason that goes beyond self consciousness and fear of discovery. Perhaps they have come for a swim and think nothing of finding another person here already. They have no idea she is naked in this light. This is not so strange, surely?

As the two approach the clearing where her bag and clothes are, she can make out they are a male and female in their mid to late twenties. The male raises a hand in greeting, the female smiling as she grasps his free arm with both her hands, pulling him down to whisper into his ear. Assuming they will be undressing and entering the lake Hazel flips over onto her back, facing away from them, offering them some privacy.

As the busy leeches enjoy their evening meal on her body, the woozy, surreal feeling intensifies. Every soft frond, every ripple of the gentle tide sends delicate shivers right to her hot molten core. Her nerve endings begin to throb like tiny heart beats, every erogenous zone on her body, some she never even knew existed before, come alive and thrum to the beat of the dusky brown dragonfly wings swarming above the surface of the black glassy water. Cool, inquisitive, unseen fingers probe and pinch her body, whipping her into a sexual frenzy as she gives in to the consuming, mind altering state she has drifted gratefully into, as the lake becomes her lover.

She lies back with her head in the water, her body relaxes and floats, totally flat out. The cool water laps around the sides of Hazel's neck and over her bared shoulders. Those cool fingers slowly stroke her sensitive throat in time to the only sounds she can now hear; the thrum of her own pulse and the sound of her slow, even breathing.

The sky above is darkening, but not enough to reveal the twinkling stars scattered there, just waiting for their moment to shine. Her eyes drift shut. Two of her senses now switched off, the rest seem to intensify. Her nostrils fill with the scent of wet soil and grass mingled with smoke from a distant wood fire. Her body increasingly buzzes and pinches all over, the water caressing her is cool, then uncomfortably cold, then cool again.

The lake suddenly warms to a comfortable tepid temperature along the left side of her body. A hand with the skin of warm velvet takes her by the shoulder. She can feel the distinct shape of the fingers, can count all five as they stroke down her arm, then up again before being joined by a second on her other shoulder.

She feels her body rise out of the water, but still she is floating. She feels safe. No fear of drowning. The hands cover her entire body, seemingly growing in number, but unable now to count individual fingers, and not caring to. The strokes become stronger, more intimate. Gone are the delicate teasing tendrils of reeds and rushes that had tickled and tingled, these hands touch her with deliberate intent, she feels adored, loved.

The velvety fingers trace circular patterns over her throat and sternum. Fat padded thumbs, (two thumbs? three? four?) massage the top curve of her breasts that now feel overly sensitive and swollen, heavy yet buoyant, like they are absorbing the lake. Finally, having silently urged them to, she feels fingers caress her thick stiff nipples, thumbs circle and flick over each one, causing them to grow ever more turgid, almost painful. Her back arches and her toes curl of their own accord. Soft, warm hands palm each breast, cupping and then squeezing gently before fingers continue their exploration of her upper body.

In the increasing dreamlike state hijacking her mind and body she couldn't be sure of what was real and what wasn't.

***Am I dreaming? This is a dream. Is that a voice? Voices, or is it just one voice?***

It becomes difficult to decipher, the sloshing of the water gently beating against her skin is getting louder. A sigh breaks through the near silence. Not hers, her own voice is locked deep inside her, unable to escape, the only audible sound her arousal makes is the speeding thrum of her blood pulsing through her veins.

"So beautiful, like a dark Celtic Mermaid..."

***That sounds a bit like Alan... but it can't be, he doesn't know I'm here... and he knows I'm English, this stranger thinks I'm Celtic... no, he said LIKE a Celtic mermaid...***

She feels paralysed, but not with fear, although she knows she definitely should feel fear. This is not normal.

***I need to move, I need to get out of this water, it's important I do, it's time to... What? I know I need to do something, but I can't think what. It's something to do with why I'm here. In the lake. I came here to...***

Something hard and solid rubs against her hip, shocking her body, relieving her from her muscles total lock down. She begins to turn, but can't work out if she is controlling the movement herself.

The hands are still on her chest, shooting bolts of pure pleasure through her body. Is that another hand? It butts up against her hip again, persistent, stroking a path from hip to her pulsing central core. The hands on her breasts trail a warm path down to her rib cage, then up her torso again, before joining behind her back as arms snake around body. The unmistakable pressure of a hard chest presses against her breasts, rough like sandpaper in the soft syrupy water. Matching roughly coated legs tangle with her own much smoother pair, just as the prodding below her waist becomes recognisable. Not a hand, but a hot, stiff cock.

It slips deliciously between her soft thighs for a moment before floating away again, with the rest of that strange, erotic body that surely is only in her mind. In her dream? She feels an immediate gut wrenching loss, the water cools like ice around her, but It's only for a flash, for a mere second or two. She feels the water heat up again and churn strongly before the body clasps itself to her again, now from behind, against her back. She feels the throbbing cock push against her lower spine, then jabs at her soft bum before nestling in the space at the very top of her thighs. She voluntarily pushes herself against it as hands slide under her arms and around her waist.

The hazy, catatonic state engulfing Hazel begins to lift from her mind and body, with exaggerated slowness, like a heavy stage curtain, rising inch by inch, teasing the awaiting audience, accelerating their anticipation. The hands around her waist cup her breasts and roll and pinch her nipples. A new sensation joins the jolts of pleasure shooting through her body. Heat. Intense heat along the right side of her neck. Then lips. The burning imprint the of hot lips followed by an explorative tongue, licking from ear lobe to shoulder. Soft moans fill her ears. Her moans? No. Masculine. Her body goes limp, her throat relaxes, she finds her voice. An audible groan escapes her own lips as teeth deliberately bite her tender lobe at the exact moment the poker stiff erection stabs her between her parted thighs, straight into her throbbing pussy.

Her eyes shoot open. Alert now. It's dark, not pitch black, but a shimmery hematite with beams of milky white moon picking out shadowy shapes of trees, rocks and piles of clothes. Right beside her large bag, her dress and shoes, is a light coloured shirt, trousers thrown on top. She recognises the distinct outline of the masculine ankle boots discarded at the water's edge at the exact moment she recognises the familiar imprint of the face pressed lovingly against the right side of hers, the soft warm breath, the roughly hirsute arms, legs and torso. Without a word spoken she turns her face, seeking out Alan's lips with her own.

Questions start to queue in her now rapidly unfogging mind, jostling for pole position. What to ask first? Will it break this magical, erotic spell to voice them? Alan's fingers pinch her nipples slightly harder. That confirms it. She is awake, definitely not dreaming. His fingers release her tender nubs and stroke their way down her rib cage, her own hands cover his as he presses her stomach, urging her pelvis back to engulf more of his stiff cock inside her. He rocks against her, attempting to build rhythm, but the water that felt so loving, so encouraging earlier, becomes restricting, hindering their play.

With a disappointed whimper Hazel feels Alan disconnect from her body. The water churns all around them again as he grabs her hand and pulls her into a standing position. With a guiding arm around her waist they both wade through the water until they reach the bank. In silence he retrieves the huge bath towel from Hazels bag and unfurls it commandingly with a snap, like a matador with his cape, and lays it on the ground. Her eyes pick out the empty tub of ointment and beside it the now empty bottle of enzyme spray.. She looks down at her glistening alabaster pale skin, glowing in the moonlight, not a leech in sight. That's one question answered. Kind off...

Shivering from a combination of cool air on wet skin, and pure unadulterated lust, she gratefully collapses onto the soft dry towel, Alan quickly joining her, lying half on top, warming her body. He maneuvers around so that he holds both her hands with his one and then with his free hand he reaches down and lightly strokes a teasing zigzag path from her throat, over her soft breasts with their rock hard crests, down her stomach straight to her slit. She gasps audibly and arches into his touch as one of his fingers plunges right into her and her building warm wetness. She cries out softly as he begins to finger fuck her slowly.

Two fingers then enter her as she matches his thrusts, her hips grinding on his hand. His warm breath caresses her left breast, his tongue flicks over the peak before sucking on her nipple, greedily stuffing as much of her ample tit flesh into his mouth as he can. His thumb strums over her aching, swollen clit, once, twice, before rotating in small tight circles, massaging her firmly. She can feel herself quickly approaching a climax and begins to shake softly. He continues the onslaught of pleasure, releases her ravaged pink peak from his lips before repeating the delicious, torturous treatment on her right nipple. With a noisy gulping of air and strangulated gasps she reaches the peak and cries out his name, trembling beneath his hands.

Alan continues to stroke and hold her until her sudden orgasm subsides, then looks down at her adoringly. He kisses her hard on her lips, their tongues tangling as he reaches down with one hand and presses the head of his raging hard-on to her opening. He pulls away from the intensely hot kiss and looks into her eyes, as if seeking permission he doesn't ever need. She silently gives it to him with a soft, encouraging nod. Slowly, he fills her body with his throbbing, poker hard cock. She gasps at the feeling of being completely full. He begins a slow, arousing rhythm that is so utterly sexy she begins to reach another peak almost immediately, but she holds herself back, wanting to wait for him.

Turning her head to distract herself, she grabs at the towel with one hand, clasping it as she bites her lip, taking a long deep, staggered breath. It escapes violently fast as suddenly, through the dark grey shadows she spots movement.

Her eyes gather focus fast in the darkness revealing a large triangular shaped rock half hiding the naked entangled bodies of the young couple she had seen earlier. They had totally disappeared from her mind, but there they are, their upper bodies clasped together as both their heads faced their direction, two pairs of eyes watching her and Alan intently. Shocked to silence she summons the ability to alert Alan but the pleasure he is filling her with consumes her. In a split second she notices they have matched their own rhythm to theirs, lying there, fucking in synchronicity. Flattered and filled with pure horn at this lewd, taboo scenario, her body begins to rocket toward its goal.