The Magic Glade ~ Angela

It was still only 9 o'clock, but already the temperature in the cottage was becoming unbearable. The windows were flung wide open, but with little breeze to stir the air this seemed to have little affect.

"Well I can't just sit here melting," Angela thought to herself, "perhaps the woods would be a bit cooler. At least there would be fresh air and shade."

Her mind made up, she took her small backpack from the cupboard under the stairs, and went through to the kitchen. Taking two bottles of water from the fridge she dropped them inside. She went back through to the small lounge and looked around, searching.

"Ah there it is, I knew I left it here somewhere." She said to herself, as sun lotion followed the water into her pack.

"Can't be too careful." She thought. "I know I've applied some already, but in this sun..."

"Book, book." She searched around, finally locating it on the table beside her favourite chair. "Can't go without a book."

It was one of Angela's pleasures in life to simply sit in a sheltered glade, or beside the small murmuring stream, and let herself be transported to other lands and times, lost in a good book.

She took her wide brimmed straw hat from where it hung beside the door, and went outside, pulling the door shut behind her. Not bothering to lock it behind her she started down the garden path, and on reaching the gate turned right, and headed off towards the centre of the village.

As she walked past the old church, making her way to the field beyond, a slight breeze caught at the hem of her thin cotton dress.

"Aah! Much better." She thought, and moved along more quickly.

The field was lush, thick with grasses and wild flowers. This was the first really hot day, and this coming at the very end of August, she could remember all summer. The preceding weeks had been overcast at best, it seemed to have rained nearly everyday since April. The wild flowers grew in abundance. Red and yellow, white and pick, the field was a veritable kaleidoscope of colour. She bent and picked some blue, now almost faded to lilac, harebells from between the tall blades of grass, which she twirled between her fingers as she walked, getting ever closer to the inviting shade ahead. Suddenly smiling, she placed the flowers in the band of her hat, and skipped the remainder of the way.

As she passed from bright sunshine into the shade of the trees, it was just as she had thought, the temperature dropped noticeably. It was cool. She stopped, removed her hat, and mopped the sweat from her brow and neck. Replacing it she headed off along the well-trodden track heading in the direction of the stream.

It was a glorious day, and Angela felt good. She smiled at the twittering and chirping of the birds, chaffinch and willow-warblers amongst them. She was lost in the colours, shapes and textures of the trees and shrubs. There was dogwood and brambles. There were Ash, Alder and Oak, but her eyes always lingered on the birch. Of all the trees perhaps the silver birch was her favourite. Not long lived by tree standards, it gave it a kind of mortality. Not only that, she loved its' silver bark which peeled back and curled in so many ways. She had long ago given up trying to find some kind of pattern, and put the numerous different shapes down to the whim of the tree, the elements and nature. She couldn't resist pulling a piece back, revealing the brown of the wood beneath.

A small shape scurried across the track ahead of her, moving to fast to identify. A shrew, a mouse perhaps? She sipped some water as she slowly walked along, enjoying the peace and solitude, the tranquillity.

"Peace and tranquillity?" She thought, hearing the sound of a flute or whistle coming from close by. The sound was melodic and tuneful, the refrain hauntingly familiar, although she couldn't quite place it. It nagged at the back of her mind, but refused to come forward.

She turned in a circle trying to locate the source of the music, and finally drawn by the melody, pushed aside two bushes, and stepped between.

She emerged in a sunlit glade, and looked around. Trees and shrubs with various coloured flowers surrounded a circle of soft lush grass, which seemed to cushion her feet as she stepped upon it. The scent of the sweet briar filled the air. The grass was cut short, which she found surprising, but what she found even more surprising was what she saw in the centre. Sitting on a long thick trunk of a tree was the musician behind the music. It was perhaps the smallest man she had ever seen, and he was staring straight at her. He lowered his flute from his mouth.

"Top o' tha mornin to ya, and how be you this fine sunny day?"

"What?" She said.

"I said Top o' tha mornin.."

"No, no I heard what you said, it's just that you're .."

Being no more that three feet tall, dressed in mainly green and brown, red hair, a matching coloured long bushy beard, and speaking in a broad Irish brogue, well he had to be "a leprechaun."

"Well is that what I be girlie, and am I not to your liking then?"

"It's just the shock, your accent, the speed you talk" She stopped, not sure how to continue.

The small figure seemed to shimmer before her eyes, and was then surrounded in a bright white light. She lowered her eyes to the grass, shielding them against the sudden glare. As she noticed the light fade she raised her head. Her jaw dropped slightly, her lips forming an almost perfect 'O', and her eyes opened wide.

"Well dear lady, is this more to your liking?"

Angela looked quickly around the glade.

"Where?...How?....Magic?.."

" Perhaps it seems magic to you my dear, but for myself, well. It's just natural." He started to explain before disappearing in white light, to be replaced by an Elf, with his distinguishing pointed ears and upward slanting eyebrows. Again the light flared, a giant fully 10 feet tall, and once more a glare caused her to avert her eyes.

As the light faded a huge black wolf sat staring up at her with dark brown eyes, its long pink tongue hanging between sharp pointed fangs from its snout. Tilting its head back it let out a deafening howl, before itself being consumed by white light, which cleared leaving once more the well spoken man sitting on the log. Angela took a half step backward and just stood staring, to shocked and surprised to speak.

"I'm so sorry, it wasn't my intention to startle or scare you, I just aimed to demonstrate that what you referred to as magic, is in fact quite natural to me." He apologised.

"What? Oh that's fine, startled not scared. Just give me a minute."

As she tried to gather her thoughts she focused on the man in front of her. Well spoken definitely, and from the accent and manners, certainly English. He was not young, but neither was he old. He was slim, but fit looking, she could see little sign of fat, his hair was dark, showing silver at the temples. He was dressed in a short sleeved shirt and shorts, and wore sandals on his feet, which rested on the ground. His shirt was unbuttoned down to his stomach, and she could see a hint of hair on his chest. As to his height, well perhaps two or three inches taller than she was. She stared into his light blue eyes.

"The leprechaun, are you some kind of fairy?" She asked.

"Excuse me!!"

"Fairy, you know, magical folk."

"Would you mind spelling that for me please, fairy that is?" he asked, his eyebrows slightly raised.

"F-a-i-r-y." she answered matter-of-factly.

"Hmm. Pronounced the same," he mused, "and yes I am a member of the ancient races, but we spell it F-a-e-r-i-e. I believe the term fairy when applied to a man has a whole different connotation now days."

Angela giggled, a tinkling, happy sound, and she raised her hand to cover her mouth, stifling a laugh. Having composed herself she lowered her hand.

"Why yes I guess it does. She continued, now unable to contain her laughter, as she smiled at him. "I didn't mean to imply..."

"No, no don't apologise, it is of no matter." Her smiled back at her.

"Where are my manners, won't you sit down. May I offer you refreshment?" She waved the bottle she still held in her hand.

"Yes I see you have water, but perhaps some cold juice, wine perhaps?"

"Juice sounds good thank you."

"And to eat? Choose anything your heart desires." He offered.

"Well I am rather partial to cherries."

"Then cherries you will have. Please, do sit." He gestured behind her to her right, and she turned her head.

Where before there had just been grass, there was now a large coloured woollen blanket, with juice and a bowl of cherries at the centre. She moved to the blanket, and as he had offered, she sat. The blanket was incredibly soft, possibly the softest wool she had felt. She ran her hand up and down, enjoying the soft, almost sensual feel on her skin. She took a deep red cherry from the bowl, and sucked it into her mouth. Her teeth bit into the soft fruit and it burst, succulent juices covering her tongue. Mmm, she moaned quietly and let the juice slide down her throat, before chewing and swallowing the fruit.

As she reached for a second she turned her head and noticed him moving towards her, his fingers undoing the remaining buttons on his shirt. He removed it, and dropped it to the blanket. Angela lent away from him.

"Excuse me?" She asked.

"Oh. I can assure you there is absolutely nothing to worry about. You can rest assured that I won't molest you in anyway....unless you would like me to of course." He smiled, and she thought she saw a twinkle in his eye.

"I was merely going to sunbathe. I do so enjoy the sensation of the suns warmth on my naked flesh. He undid his shorts and let them drop to the ground, before stepping out of them. Angela coughed.

He stood in front of her totally naked. She ran her eyes down his chest, his stomach. Beneath soft curly black hair, his manhood hung thick and limp between his legs. She licked her dry lips, before placing another cherry in her mouth. He lowered himself to lay face down, his head resting on his arms, the juice and cherries between them on the blanket.

She removed her hat before, smoothing her dress, she too lay face down, her arms cradling her head.

After about ten minutes he turned his head towards her.

"Do you not sunbathe?" He asked. She turned her head to look at him.

"Well not really, and well.." Her eyes seemed to scan around the glade.

"Oh you don't have to worry about that my dear, we really are quite secluded, and people seldom come here. In fact you're the first in, Oh let's just say a very long time. Do you not like to feel the heat of the suns rays on your naked body, it really can be quite invigorating, quite sensual."

"It's just that, "she looked down at her dress," I'm not wearing much under here, and with you lying there," she looked down his back to his firm buttocks, "naked, well..."

"Rest assured you are safe here with me, we'll just share in the pleasure the sun gives us."

Not knowing why she even considered the idea, she sat, her arms going behind her back to the zip on her dress, and undoing it. As the straps began to slip down her arms, she looked him in the eye.

"Well?"

"Oh, please excuse me." He turned his head and resting it again on his arms, looked away.

She let the top of the dress drop down, then lay back to remove it completely, before folding it and placing it beside her on the rug. Then, like him she lay face down to enjoy the sun. He turned his head to face her.

The sun did indeed feel nice on her skin. It's warmth seeming to seep into her. The occasional breeze would stroke sensuously over her naked back, as if an invisible mouth were blowing softly.

She looked across. The man's eyes were shut, his breathing shallow, he looked so calm and peaceful. She felt an urge to stroke his cheek, and her hand reached towards him. She stopped.

"Just what are you thinking?" She shook her head admonishing herself. "Cherries, think of the cherries."

As she lent up on her elbows to reach towards the bowl, she felt her nipples rub gently against the blanket beneath her, The softness of the woollen fibres seemed to stroke as soft as a feather, gently at the tips. She sighed softly. All thought of cherries slipped away, as lowering herself, she repeated the action, making her nipples stiffen slightly, to protrude from her breasts.

"Mmm nice." She thought, as once more she rubbed her chest backwards, and then forwards as she arched her back She stopped, now leaning on her elbows.

She reached to take another cherry from the bowl, and moved it towards her parted lips. Tilted her head back she sucked this third cherry into her mouth. Sweet juices burst in her mouth as she bit down hard, and again she let them flow slowly down her throat. She looked at the glass on the rug beside her.

"Who needs that?" She thought. After all, the cherries did both ease her hunger and sate her thirst.

His eyes had been slightly open as she moved her hand towards him, and he had sensed the indecision in her. She wanted to touch him, but felt cheapened by the thought. He smiled, and his eyes moved down from his study of her face, to fix on the curves of her white breast, a merest hint of it's dark pink nipple showing, its tip being cushioned by soft wool.

Mmmm. His tongue slipped out between his dry lips, circling to moisten them. He tilted his head, returning his gaze to her face. He opened his eyes fully.

"Would you like me to apply some lotion to your back? You are after all pale of skin, and the sun's rays are quite powerful."

She reached a hand back over her shoulder, and touched her back. It did already feel a bit hot and slightly tender to the touch.

"Well if you wouldn't mind." She reached for her pack, and pulled out the sun lotion. Placing it between them on the blanket she averted her eyes as he started to rise, turning so to kneel beside her.

"Oohh!!" She shivered and a tiny squeal escaped between her lips.

"Cold?" He asked her.

"Just a bit. More the shock I think. Carry on."

He had drawn a line down her spine with the creamy lotion, and now began to massage it into the soft skin of her back. His hands moved in circling motions, moving slowly, his fingers stroking, up and down. He reached across her back, stroking down her side. The tips of his fingers softly brushed the side of her breast. She turned her head, once again resting it on her arms, and looked at him, her eyes barely open.

On his face was a look of intense concentration as he stroked her, his fingers pushing at her skin as he massaged her back, and up over her shoulders. Again he rubbed over her side, this time his fingers lingering slightly, pushing gently at the softly yielding flesh beneath. She looked down, his member was slightly larger now, thicker, longer, and seemed to be growing before her eyes. Her mouth felt dry, as she moaned softly to herself, her passion beginning to rise.

Smoothing the lotion onto her skin his hands moved lower, the tips of his fingers sliding inside the waist of her white panties. Her eyes opened wider as he looked down at her face, his eyebrows raised in question. She nodded slightly and felt his fingers once more stroke and caress her lower back.

Her nerve ends were fired, tingling, as he expertly stroked and caressed her. Her imagination took wing, and carnal images vied for position in her head. She moaned softly as she saw him move down her body, and out of her line of sight. She felt her legs eased slightly apart, and felt the hot skin of his legs on the inside of her calves. He ran lines of lotion down the back of her legs.

With strong fingers he stoked upwards as if easing the tightness from her muscles. He stroked down the outside of her thighs, her calves, before again rubbing upwards, his thumbs this time stroking up the inside of her legs. Higher and higher, stopping just short of her panties, to stroke softly back down. She felt a tingle exciting her body, felt her nipples stiffen against the soft wool, felt heat build between her legs, as he again stroked firmly up her legs, her inner thighs.

"Would you prefer an all over tan do you think?"

She was started back to reality by the unexpected sound of his voice, and turned her head to look at him. She nodded as she slowly raised her hips from the ground. He leant forward and slid his hands under the waistband before sliding her panties over her hips and easing them down her legs. He moved to kneel beside her as he slipped them over her feet, and placed them on her dress.

He looked up at the curves of her firm cheeks. Round, firm succulent, like a peach he was eager to bite and taste. He ran his still lotion-coated hands over them, stroking, squeezing, kneading them, as she tensed her muscles. Angela could only moan, as her body trembled with suppressed emotion.

She raised her self on one elbow, and looked back at him. She could see the tension in his face, the inner tension that had grown as he had massaged and stroked her back, as he had caressed her legs and her cheeks. His member had continued to swell and grow. It was harder now, not hanging, but rather its tip pointing sideways at his hip. She rolled to her back.

He stared down longingly, taking in the roundness of her firm white breasts, with their dark pink nipples jutting proudly from their centres. His eyes moved down, taking in the flatness of her stomach, her slim waist and small rounded hips, finally resting on the dark delta between her legs. He swallowed hard, his mouth felt dry, and again he circled his lips with his tongue. He looked back to her face. She was wearing a mischievous smile, as she picked up the bottle of lotion from where he had left it. He gave a small cough.

"The front my dear?" His voice sounding husky.

"Hmm." She lent slightly forward, and poured some lotion into her left hand. She slowly raised it moving it up to first cup, and then close it around her right breast. She squeezed, and he saw the creamy liquid ooze between her fingers, and run slowly down her stomach. She held the bottle towards him, her eyes now fixed on the wide girth and the long length of his cock, which stood fully erect in front of him, throbbing. Sighing, she moistened her lips.

"Legs perhaps." He took the proffered bottle from her hand, and poured the thick lotion onto his palm. Dropping the bottle, he rubbed his hands together.

Her hand squeezed and rubbed at her breast, slowly circling. Her fingers squeezed at the firm nipple, pulling, leaving it glistening in the sunlight. She stroked across to her left breast and caressed and squeezed, tweaking her nipple, pulling then releasing. Backwards and forwards, stroking, caressing, pinching, twirling her stiff nipples. Her right hand moved lower to trace circles and stroke her stomach, the tips of her fingers briefly touching her soft pubic hair, before once more returning to the blanket at her side..

He stroked up the front of her legs, leaning towards her, watching as she gently writhed, and softly murmured, her tongue licking her lips, as she lost herself in her pleasure.

Down the outside quickly, his needs building inside him. He stroked up the inside of her thighs, Angela moaned louder as his fingers reached the top, fingers stroking outward, circling, to meet, to twist and tease her hair. She raised her hips as his fingers retraced their route back around her pussy, and then down her legs.

Again she felt his hands stoke her thighs, and again they parted at the top to toy with her soft hair. Once more he gently stroked, her sense of anticipation, her frustration, building as she yearned to feel his touch between her legs. She stroked and squeezed harder at her breasts thinking, "please... please....." She raised her hips higher, thrusting towards him, as she felt his hands on her legs, stroking ever nearer to the heat between her thighs.