I finally got back into writing recently, working on finishing a few pieces that should have been done a while back. Anyway, this is my first attempt at a Hallowe'en story for the contest and if you would like to vote on it, I'd appreciate it.
There isn't a lot of sex in this but there is a father-daughter scene that puts this into this category. It's based on my experiences in the English/Welsh borders, but isn't based on anyone in particular. All of the sex in this story is between consenting adults.
I'd really love to hear what you think about it, please leave your thoughts at the end, thanks.
In the failing light of the afternoon of Hallowe'en I saw her, walking down the slope of the field that runs up away from the cottage.
Dark hair, and darker eyes, lightly clothed despite the lowering temperatures, she walked bare legged through the grass wearing low, light slippers.
She walked through the gate from the field into my garden like she owned it, and made her way across my lawn and straight up to me.
I looked at her closely, wondering where this was going. Her make-up shadowed beautiful grey eyes, clear and so very deep. A few freckles dotted her otherwise flawless skin which had the warm tones of someone used to being outside. She stood in front of me partly presenting herself and partly challenging me to do something. There was a wanton air about her. Not slutty, never slutty, but the kind of woman that looked like she would be up for anything, bed wrecking, end of the kitchen table, swinging from the curtain pole, any time anywhere, but never just anyone.
I'd seen her once or twice about the village, over the summer and she always had the same sort of look about her. She was the kind of woman that stood out in a crowd, not that I ever saw her in a crowd, and that was just one of the unusual things about this strange woman who had just presented herself at my cottage door, no one knew who she was or where she was living.
"I'm Lara. Invite me in."
"On Hallowe'en? You're joking right?" I was only half serious, this mystery woman was seriously sexy, and I was very interested. "You might be a vampire or something."
For a moment her eyes flashed darkly, "I swear I will do you no harm!" she said, then she smiled, "You may even enjoy it."
Well put like that, I thought, why not? I stood aside and she strode into my cottage.
Unlike most people she did not look around at the eclectic furniture and the collection of pots on shelves, or even the unwashed dishes in the sink. Instead she turned around and she looked at me and for a moment I felt like I was getting one hundred and fifty percent of her attention as she looked into my eyes. There was a sort of otherworldliness about her eyes, that was both intriguing and a little of-putting and intriguing at the same time.
"What have you got to drink?" She asked.
I wiped a couple of glasses, "Cider okay?" I asked her.
"Is it the local stuff?"
It was, I told her, brewed a couple of miles up the road, and she accepted it cheerfully.
"Would you like to go to bed?" Lara asked.
In the green, patch-work folded lands of the English border counties that aren't quite England and not quite Wales, is a small village. It's set around the slopes of a low hill and on either side of a river that rises in Wales and flows away until it joins up with the Severn in England. Cramped houses, especially round the foot of the Norman castle have been there over a thousand years, and the streets wind unevenly around. People tend to pass us by -- the main road by-passes the village. Generally, if they do stop it's for business, agriculture being the main reason, but recently we have seen a growing artistic community. There are an increasing number of writers and artists living in and around the village, and of course some of them are bringing their own industry to the village. They find the setting inspiring and the peace and tranquillity conducive to creating. It's that kind of place.
Around the village the hills rise quite steeply -- not high but steep - crowned by hanging woods, dark green caps, that preside precariously over the pastures and the herds below. On both sides of the river little valleys wind up between the hills and out of sight of the village.
We're close to nature and the seasons here. Spring, summer, the autumn and winter roll round, each season marking its arrival with its effect on the landscape. And with the seasons come the festivals -- Christmas, Easter and harvest festival are all celebrated, along with Bonfire Night and Hallowe'en.
I've lived here most of my life. I did go away for a couple of years but came back to live after I discovered that I preferred working with clay to trying to teach unruly children, and moved into a cottage across the river from my parent's farm, up the road from my sister and around the hill from my brother, yeah, it's that kind of family. I have cousins and second cousins, aunts and uncles, once, twice and even three times removed all within a few miles. Family get-togethers are pretty good.
I live with my daughter in a cottage poised between heaven and earth -- above us up the hill is a hanger wood, called Heaven Beech, and at the bottom of the hill is Earth Delving Lane. I bought it from my nan on my mum's side when she went to live with my parents when she got poorly. I set up a studio in one of the sheds, and I work with clay, wood and metal. Not long after I moved in I met my wife and a year later my daughter arrived.
So how I met Lara is where it all gets strange.
"Would you like to go to bed?" Lara asked putting her glass down on the table. I coughed.
"What?" She asked. "Do you want to do that whole circle dance as we decide whether we want to or not? I want to. You certainly look like you do, why waste time?"
There was a stunning directness to her logic. I certainly wanted to, I was just surprised by the way this had come out of the twilight at me.
"Why me?" I asked, I desperately wanted some thinking time, though I had a good idea what the outcome was going to be.
"You're not unpleasant to look at," she said, "And it would be wrong if I had to sleep alone tonight."
"Simple as that?" I asked. She nodded brightly, smiling what I would come to know as her sweet sexy smile. For myself -- not having had a woman in these last seventh months, I didn't need much convincing.
I opened the door to the staircase, and invited her to go past me, "On the left at the top."
She walked past me and as she started to go up the stairs I was confronted with the most delicious looking, pert arse I have ever seen. In her black dress it looked enticing and well-worth exploring. I grabbed the glasses and the cider from the table and followed her up.
Standing in my bedroom she started to take her dress off.
"Wait!" I told her. I needed to get a measure of control back, "Allow me?"
