by Bill Blackolive

Common practices of non-procreational sex among the tribes of steppes or forests took scarce attention before the church pronounced them method of transference of demons, causing these things to become in civilized communities more the vice of certain priests. My aunt and scattered others of a wrecked culture lived in a mountainous and forested region, and she, ancient and wise, lived with her watchful cats in a stone cottage provided by a noble, who respected her for her curative powers. He had known her from his childhood through his old father, deceased from a disease which killed too this noble's three brothers but not his sister, but it killed the sister's husband and infant. His sister became savage and antisocial, and the nobleman had her visit my aunt, but the bereaved and possessed woman required such discipline as my aunt could not bestow. In the beginning the stricken widow had found solace riding through the forest, accompanied by armed servants she bullied, to visit my aunt, but she was erratic and worsening and struck my aunt, who said to her she must be placed in my keeping if she chose salvation. The widow then had sneered and spat and urinated on my aunt's hearth, and snarling and frightening her four armed servants she had left. Pain and fear in her heightened, she was unkind to servants, she had screaming nightmares, and evil visions, she attempted to hang herself, she fired a musket - a very earliest firearm - at one of her brother's hounds, she dabbed menstrual blood on the face of a sleeping priest, a revered guest and acclaimed personage, who in promise of gold had braved a great distance to save her. The poor woman's brother desired she be trussed and returned with gold to my aunt, and her brother fretted what might better appease my old and angry aunt than gold, during which time his sister, who was dominant of him, hurried with her four armed and intimidated servants to my aunt's home and apologized and kissed the old woman her friend, and shrieked and dismissed these servants who, in fear of the brother, could not leave her, and they rested a short ways out in the trees, and they were hungry, sore in preparation for the night. My aunt was a very, very wise woman, and she called me on my gloomy way before the arrival of the demoniac noble woman, having delineated probability the woman was an old lover of mine, from other incarnation, that I might shake her about and stick my penis in her mouth, jar her into healthier passage before she should strike my aunt, who was too brittle and old for the foolishness. I was myself old, pained in joint and averse to long travel, a widower, retired from men, lived with wolves. I had wolf friends and the main allies were at this time a pair of young males, siblings, who would corner a boar or something big and let me catch up and spear it. It was good and there was love. One of these brutes did mate rather late, after I had again, after his brother had died from an unlucky wound received in saving me from the clutch of an enormous bear I had put my stabbing sword into the heart of, a bad day and a strong bear, but that was to come and life is to be embraced and I had not had woman for twelve years or thereabouts. I went on and minded my aunt who had sheltered me after family losses in war. My two friends and I came expectedly late - my aunt's tribe of cats fled to tree and roof - and we entered and were cheered for the warm hearth. My aunt had climbed to her bed in the loft, joined by three mad cats, and the widow pranced naked and raving and of possible harm to herself, twice in her state of exposure had gone into the harsh night to rage at her servants. She and I were familiar, nonetheless she had not anticipated two wolves so was startled, and that I did loom tremendous in my fur. I was tall and thin, and spoke no greeting, for she did not and it did not matter, and I unclothed in the heat to my loin skin and footwear and lopped off chunks of cheese for my wolves and me - her brother, an intelligent man, always saw my aunt in provisions. My wolves reclined,and I sat upon a stool and looked into the fire. I studied her, a pacing, talking, well turned and plump woman, and scared, a pretty woman. Presently, I looked around and spoke, commanded she lie on the rug. This was a fine rug of a yak. My aunt called down concerning how tired she herself was and I must shut the woman up. Throw her down, she loves you. Sodomize her, erase the evil. Startle her a little perhaps. I lost patience and snatched her and she practically swooned. I set her on the rug and told my partners to eat her, and cut myself more cheese and reseated to the fire. Eat that woman! Eat that woman! My wolf friends agreed to bother with her, licked every part of her. It amused them, they wagged their furry tails. The woman settled to moans and giggles and my aunt snored. Then my aunt half waked and said to give the poor creature mushrooms, shove some of the dried mushrooms down her, do something to her, and turned over and slept well from there. Yet the woman had quietened. I unbound my feet, and saw the fertile woman sleep with my wolves on the rug but with her eyes open, staring wide in submittance. I craved to lie down too, and entwined with the bodies on the rug, and fell to warm sleep. In the morning she presented herself dressed and prim to her bitten servants and in their protection rode away quietly. In two days she took a firearm and rode back alone to my aunt's home, and I with wolves led her for our cave. My aunt in telling the brother his sister had gone to my cave, delivered him his sister's note. The foliage being thick for her horse, She learned on gain of a last small climb to the cave she tore her clothing less by leading the animal, but her shoes were wrong for it. 0ur entourage now of six to ten wolves had her horse set to bolt, though the woman has a touch with animals. But ah, her own babble, just to get there. Then I pressed her large bag through the thin entrance where water rippled, and then, she inside wailed and rent her clothing further. Her horse, tethered poorly at the trace of stream outside, broke and galloped and was eaten in a little distance down the trail. With flint and steel and some bother seeing the heat made for the woman, I raised a flame, illuminated ourselves in a roomy cave, white smoke spewing in conflux with trickle out the small opening. She disinclined to be quiet, or undress, but I did so, and we smelled her urine pour inside her clothing. In irritation I yanked her clothing from her, laid her to my pile of old skins and swatted her fat beam heartily. Before she could understand the whereabouts I smothered her face in my genitals and dug into her good haunch and supped of her mound of Venus, a bounteous mound of past neglect, and her confusion was thorough. My penis filled across her face and she swelled and I set to her clitoris. Dreadfully alarmed, she drew breath and heaved, and I bit her thigh, and she experienced ecstasy. She wept and I bit the other thigh, not hard but small pain secured her. She took the penis and went from her mind and breathed well and pain changed to happiness, that she screamed in wonder. She forgot all she knew in present life and now she clung to us, so that I squirted through her hair and face and bathed her soul, or enough anyway for then.

She had barely slept for months and in some hours woke stupefied in the glimmering cave of gorged wolves. I was eating bread and cheese from her bag and arose to show her to pass her water into the thin stream, and wiped her, and a wolf yawned mightily and shifted to his back and stretched his four limbs and burped. A fresh sense of horror dawned in her, but I placed her on her belly and toothed both her ample cheeks, yet no more than bruising her, that her mind disengaged and her pleasured fright moistened her. I thumbed my half filled penis through her anus, and humped to full inside her thrilling fright. Tenderly I freed her that all pain changed. I kissed her and informed her I was ridding her of devils and slowly fucked her tract for time. From the entrance dawn slivered over furry bodies. She opened her eyes and turned to kiss mouths, and proclaimed she believed. Oh, master. Thy love soothes my vulnerable heart. Pleasure me, for I am weak with love.

Yet other things must a woman have. She would be content but two or three days in or about the cave and grow cross. The first time I had to return her to my aunt's house, I did so with her on my back, because she was neither fit then for the journey nor had appropriate shoes, and a hard day's journey on old bones that was. She lived with my aunt and assisted her and sent her brother cryptic notes, and several instances his notion was to capture her, but my howling friends warned us of any approach by men and I never had to meet him, and she and I would scamper merrily on up to the cave. Too, men had to take heed they did not lose their poor horses, and they did lose them. But a war with Mongols heated, and the brother reverted to mere concern and supply of the house of my aunt, and the Mongols fell back then, those devilish horsemen who hated the forest, but they had used cannon, from which a round had crushed her brother's horse and his leg, and he died, while at the time he had no sons and his sister had a two year old strapping son, who inherited his holdings.

Our families were neighbors and close and she mothered me and led me about. She was around ten at first, and I a few years younger. She had a Staffordshire terrier, intrepid bulldog who barked at everything but stayed near. There were park ducks, geese, swans in a wide pond, and one day we had known each other a long time she turned angry when I tried to land a rock on a swan after she had told me not to, and she swatted my butt several times and she had surprised me and I was tearful. It embarrassed me to nearly cry, and she was very sorry. She insisted I spank her. I had no interest in doing so but she persisted. I did so, on the bank of the pond, and we laughed. 1t was funny. She wore a fluffy dress and two petticoats. We indulged a few swats more. We became conscious that adults at a picnic across the pond gave us attention. She led us in hand up a path of shrubbery and trees. Her dog ran a squirrel, and a lady with opened parasol scolded us, for letting him do this or for having a bulldog. My little mistress stuck her tongue at this lady, who was accompanied by an unfriendly man smoking a cigar. The Staffordshire barked twice at the two, who frowned and went their way. In a little bit, we spied on them from bushes because they sat necking on a bench. This bored us shortly. As we thought to look for new fun - seems we had outgrown the playground stuff, swings, merry-go-round - they got up, and walked off the path, passing among the shrubbery near us. We squatted hidden with the dog to watch. They were furtive. They sat again not far away, down among a few saplings to perch on an old log. The lady was flushing starkly. The man and his lady believed themselves unseen. Consequently we crept around behind them to see what they might do, the bulldog abreast of us guarding. In an oblique but good view - we were on hands and knees - we observed the lady twist away, covering her eyes with her hand. The man placed her other hand on his crotch. The man was impassioned. The lady coughed, and appeared unwell. The man brought a gargantuan penis from his trousers, brushed her limp hand to it. She coughed again. She turned pale and faint but she closed her fingers on it. She said something, and he kissed her hand and put his penis away. He next lit himself a cigar. The lady needed to go, shaken, but she smiled. They walked back up to the path. My mistress and I laughed and occupied their log in a sense of triumph. She had us replay the scene, except she was compelled to see my tiny penis. It sprang alive in her hand. She unbuttoned me better to see whatever else. I wished to see what she had, but she buttoned my pants back up, saying she could not do that, that it was not religious, and that we must return. She said in addition, that she really did not have anything. But she brought us to the log the next day. It was somewhat a sunken, reclusive spot. The lady and man there again could see us coming, and they left. We never saw them anymore. The lady had been crying. We repeated their little theater, but correctly, for my mistress closed her eyes this time, it was so funny besides. She unbuttoned me to see my parts after. They were as she had remembered them. Now she raised and lowered clothing that I see she did not have such parts as mine. She had a start of pubic hair. We were being bad and she enjoyed showing and it thrilled me. I sat on the log. She held up skirts and turned about with her underwear around her stockings smiling. She let me touch her girl's peepee but I pushed my finger in. She exclaimed she should spank me, knocking away my hand. I was disconcerted, made mind not to show stress should she spank me. She became sorry. She was quite kind. She laughed for us: you spank me, ha ha! I would have where she stood, but then she lay into the grass for it, clothing pulled baring her plump white rump. We did this, laughed, and she took back out my springy little member. After a quick study of it more, she bid me to get on her like a dog. This was for another little joke. She manipulated my short penis within her anus and had me do her like a dog. In a minute or two she abruptly straightened and fixed our clothing for us to return to our homes early. There was no knowledge of completion the first time, an interesting bit of fun. In subsequent years, in our culture of sex developed purely to ourselves, call it, or a practice, a circumstantial, regimented practice derived and off set from the churlish but weird regimen of surrounding cultural propriety, there were instances she bewildered me in her nervousness. But inside our process she grew to be orgastic, before I was, first understanding she was. We loved one another and we were confidants, and nobody considered we had a sexual practice, and we ourselves did not speak of it. Throughout, even irregularly, in a psychic dimension separate of our civilization's claim, we would have anal intercourse in dark corners, rather quick orgasms. Hers were quicker than mine, hunching into it soon as I got to her, explosive, all tensions of her awaiting these thrusts. It kept us happy, and, like one's bowel movements, it was not referred to. We knew I was never to do more nor touch her in other ways. I never saw her breasts. She married a man of wealth and had six children. She was faithful to her boring husband and a devout Christian. I piddled between being a seaman and a ne'er do well, accompanied her, spent nights at her large house, walked and talked long with her on great subjects, art, philosophy, religion, science. In a moment cordoned off from all duller realities by the spirits in some place decent for it, we opened clothing and merged for it, and in this dimension invariably wanted it the instance of opportunity, no matter should we have just attended the funeral of a good friend, in the need, hygiene, convenience. We pounced ready for it. When she was pregnant there was no difference except the possible encumbrance of her big belly. Dream like, at times hurriedly, she bent, clutched petticoats from her fat fanny. We lingered only providing we had the time. She bent for me over beds, couches, tables, railings in the night. Seldom did we lie down. On her rugs we might late I was there she came dressed in bed clothes. She would say nothing and float back to her room and large bed to sleep alone and well. Much of her life was given to her children, and to her grandchildren. We faded into portly old age vigorous in this most secret affair till death, soul mates, civilized, proper, remarkable.