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Witch of the Wild Woods Ch. 05

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Amateur

May 22nd – Friday / Afternoon

Only a two-hour drive from Portland, through winding roads, over streams and past the dense Washington Woods, Lane and Luna had finally arrived at Trillion Pines Youth Camp. Unlike the handful of other camps along the way, Trillion Pines was pressed up further into the hillside, but the view was a breathtaking overlook of Spirit Lake.

As they followed the signage along the gravel road up into the main compound of the camp, Luna took note of the massive mountain beside them, “Didn’t some guy die here?”

Lane thought back on his research he’d done on the area before arrival. During the 1980 eruption of Mount St. Helen, there was one man who refused to evacuate; “Yeah, there were a few dozen unfortunate people that died, but one man, Harry something, stayed his ground. He was in his eighties. Nowhere else to go I guess.”

Luna looked out over the sun-soaked mountain range and shook her head, “You’d think if molten lava and ash were headed your way…” She trailed off, looked down to her crotch and growled. Undoing the leather belt, Luna shimmed out of her borrowed jeans. Reaching over the back seat, she rifled through her duffle bag until she found her deep-purple sweatpants. With disdain, Luna apologized, “The kiwi is not the sweetest fruit on the market today, and I don’t want to ruin your jeans.”

Lane offered, “You need me to pull over, or go back? Get Advil? Anything?”

Luna grit her teeth as she peeled off Lane’s jeans and pulled up her sweatpants, “No. It’s fine. I’m a big girl. I’ll muscle my way through it.”

Normally he’d drop it, but Lane pressed, “I know how you like to make a fashionable first impression. We could head back to Portland? Ride out the weekend and show up late–?”

Luna snapped, “It’s fine, Lane. You’re sweet, but it’s day one and I’ll fight through it.”

Lane drew a breath and nodded. He’d been around Luna’s cycle often enough not to freak out. Periods happen. Still, Lane was never one to see his sister in pain; even the familiar pain. “Alright,” he agreed reluctantly.

Up and over the rocky ground, they continued onward and deeper into the woods.

About a quarter-mile later through the winding, narrow, gravel-laden road, Lane drove under a large wooden archway. A birch sign adorned with fairy-lights welcomed visitors to, “Trillion Pines Youth Campground.” As they made their way down a steep embankment, Lane veered right at the fork turning down into the cul-de-sac at the bottom of the hill. At the base of the cul-de-sac, Lane shifted the Jeep into park. They stepped out of their filthy vehicle and took in their surroundings.

From right to left in a semi-circle around the base of the cup-de-sac stood a staff office, a grand multipurpose lodge, and an infirmary. All three buildings stood nearly neglected since the early 1930’s. Nothing was painted, but neither were they rotted or in disrepair. They were simply old, plain, and wholly unremarkable cabins.

Lane shut the Jeep off. He opened the door and stepped out onto the gravel-covered Main Circle. At the center, surrounded by an unpopulated flowerbed was a cast-iron bell about the size of a VW Bug. In the distance, woodpeckers knocked and swaying pine trees creaked. Apart from the sounds of nature, there was nothing: utter vacancy.

Turning to his sister, Lane asked, “E-mail said to be here before six, right?”

Luna leaned back up against the Jeep, hands on her hips, and glared up at the sky; “Yeah. We’re an hour early though. They’re probably all inside or whatever.”

Lane’s boots crunched over the gravel as he meandered toward the staff cabin. The building was two stories, but no bigger than two Dutch Brothers Coffee huts stacked together. No lights. Locked door. Window shutters pulled tight and latched shut.

Thinking out loud, Lane asked, “You think they all parked off-site maybe?”

Luna scoffed, “Or maybe the rest of humanity doesn’t think being on time is late.”

Surely they couldn’t be the first ones up here. Nearly two months of camp for a hundred plus students; a whole team of people had to be somewhere preparing the camp weeks, if not months in advance. As he considered where the rest of the staff would be, Lane took note of the lack of any visible tracks in the gravel. The weight of the stillness continued to press upon him.

Luna slowly rounded the Jeep and opened the tailgate. She reached in and pulled her bag to the edge. The movement caused her to groan deeply. Slamming her hand on the side of the truck, Luna turned toward Lane and roared, “Bro! Help. Now.”

Jogging back to the Jeep, Lane suggested, “Leave it. We don’t even know where our bunks are.”

Luna grumbled, “Fine. Whatever. Can you just reach tempobet giriş in and get my medicine bag?”

With a quick compassionate nod, Lane leaned into the back seat and dug through Luna’s bag. He pushed past the porn, (a lot of porn), and pulled out a forearms length leather purse shaped like a unicorn. Once again, Lane suppressed the urge to quip about packing a telephone-book stack of hardcopy porn. He gave Luna plenty of slack on her period. Additionally, his sister had a particularly artful and obsessively curated collection of erotica. Who was he to judge?

Lane handed over Luna’s medicine bag. Without another word, she also grabbed her pink beach towel and marched toward’s the staff cabin. Quickly, Lane closed up the tailgate and sprinted after his sister. Passing the staff hut, Luna patted a birchwood sign and arrow inscribed with “Trail to Staff Cabins.”

Luna marched on. Lane followed. Usually, he would fill the silence with idle chatter, but when one’s body sheds the inner lining of their uterus’ walls, one’s tolerance for mindless talk is less than zero. So, Lane took a breath and mentally charted what would be his new home base for the next couple of months.

Nestled about fifty yards or so away from the Main Circle, four staff cabins and a shower room were positioned in an almost asymmetrical pattern built on top of a wooden deck set into a steep hillside. Strategically surrounded by Pine trees, and barricaded by the hillside, it felt like the Alamo; one way in, one way out. The cabins were of the same style as the main buildings but only slightly modernized, each having its own AC unit.

They reached the top of the six stairs that lead to the deck. At the center of the elevated deck was a three by two rectangle set about a foot into the deck. Not exactly a fire pit, but something of that nature, maybe? Luna stepped down into and back out of the random pit unimpeded for the shower room. Lane kept right on her heels.

Fortunately, the door wasn’t locked as Luna pushed her way inside. Lane was certain even if it had been locked, his sister would’ve simply kicked in the door. As Lane stepped in after Luna, he was somewhat taken aback by the interior design. Everything looked brand new; black floor tiles, and white ceramic walls adorned with a wrap-around mural of cherry blossom trees from one end to the other. Bronze pipes, bamboo bathmats, and a long stone and wooden island about waste high sat in the center. What really captured Lane’s attention was the showers and toilets at the far end were all completely open.

No walls.

No curtains.

No privacy.

Unsurprisingly, while Lane contemplated the unusual openness, he ignored Luna as she shed her clothes and turned on the shower in the far right of the Japanese Onsen style bathhouse. Peeking his head back outside, Lane double-checked to see if there were separate showers for men and women. There wasn’t. Closing the door behind him, he absentmindedly picked up Luna’s clothes, folded them, and set them onto the island.

Luna spoke up over the running water, annoyed, “Bro?”

Lane looked up from inspecting the shelving set into the stone island, “Yeah?”

Bent over with one hand on the white wall and the other wrapped around her waist, hot water fell upon Luna’s bare honey-colored skin. Steam rose from her back visibly in waves. Without looking up at Lane, she whined, “Over here. Bring the unicorn bag. Please.”

Lane obliged, striding over to Luna and holding out the leather bag, “Here you go.” He paused, unusually unsure of himself in the painful silence, “I’ll just be outside if you need me.”

Snatching the bag from Lane’s hand, Luna stepped out from the shower toward her brother. She unzipped the purse and withdrew a square cardboard box the size of a deck of playing cards. It wasn’t tampons. Dropping the bag, Luna pressed the box into Lane’s palm; “I’m gonna need you to put one of those on.”

Lane was rarely at a lack for words. Staring dumbfounded at the box of condoms, he couldn’t even manage to stammer. He couldn’t utter a sound.

Luna groaned and doubled over. One hand around her waist. The other slapped against the wall under the showerhead. Impatiently, she urged again; “Lane?”

It wasn’t an issue of not getting hard, he was. It wasn’t an issue of being experienced. He was. Hell, it didn’t even faze him that Luna was on her period. Lane’s brain simply could not compute the request he’d been given.

Luna huffed as she spelled out her pain; “Do you have any idea what it’s like to have the interior of your uterus slowly scrapped out and your brain collapse in on itself like the Poltergeist house?”

Lane blinked, “Um, no?”

Luna took his hand in hers, “Then tempobet yeni giriş I’m gonna need you to help a sister out.”

She needed sex. Lane got that. Still, like an idiot, he looked over his shoulder as if she were talking to somebody else in the empty bathhouse. Hesitantly, Lane offered in vain; “Luna, I asked if needed Advil like five minutes ago.”

Luna spun on her heels to face Lane; “Are we anywhere near a convenience store that sells a cock sized Advil?” She didn’t wait for an answer to her rhetorical question; “Two simple options; help relieve this ungodly pain in the best way possible or help me bury the body after I strangle the first person who asks, ‘How are you today?’”

Lane’s eyes were fixed on the cherry blossom artwork just over Luna’s shoulder. The contrast of her dark naked body against the white tile mural was a work of art in itself. It was almost enough of a distraction that Lane didn’t immediately react to Luna unbuckling his belt and fumbling with the buttons on his jeans.

Frustrated, Luna grabbed the waistband of Lane’s pants and simply started tugging. This pulled Lane out of his brain-locked daze to protest; “Luna, we can’t-”

Cupping Lane’s face with her warm, wet hands, Luna contained her rage enough to whisper, “This isn’t about can’t or shouldn’t, this about helping each other out.” Looking deep into her burning green eyes, Lane could see the pain she was barely holding back. Slow and stern, Luna urged, “Please. Just help me this once, okay?”

What Lane thought he was telling his hands to do was gently remove his sister’s grasp on his face. Somewhere between placing the box of condoms in his back pocket and his sister pleading for relief, however, a cognitive dissonance severed his consistently rational mind. Fog continued to roll over Lane as he guided Luna’s hands back down to his waist and unbuckled the buttons of his jeans. Kneeling, Luna violently pulled down Lane’s pants and briefs and reached into his back pocket for the box of Magnums.

One handed, Luna opened the box and pulled out a single tinfoil wrapped rubber. Her left hand firmly held the base of his shaft. Swiftly unrolling the condom over the tip and down to the base, Luna gave lane a resolute squeeze with both hands and stood up.

Positioning herself under the water, Luna faced the shower faucet and pressed both hands against the wall. Lane took a timid step towards her. He could feel himself pulsate and grow inside the condom. His head swollen, hardening, longing, and was nonetheless utterly terrified. Luna kept her head down as she insisted; “Don’t think about it. Don’t think. Just go. You’ve no idea how much this fucking hurts right now.”

Lane stood centimeters away from Luna’s perfectly shaped ass. It was round the way Giotto drew a perfect circle without the aid of a compass or tool: art. As every male instinct surged through the thousands of nerve endings of his own tool, Lane stood frozen before Luna’s implausible beauty.

With another deep moan, more so in agony and frustration than pleasure, Luna lost her patience. Without looking back, her right hand reached out and found Lane’s cock. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t protest. He could only let himself be guided in through Luna’s lips. Her walls contracted tightly around him. There was no escaping this. Her grasp was unnaturally strong. The sensation of her warmth nearly made him cum all at once. Instead, Luna’s heat unlatched Lane’s repressed raw natural instincts.

Like the handful of times before with girlfriends past, Lane found his fingers push forward around her pelvis, grip, and massage the inside of Luna’s upper thighs. Pushing himself up on his toes, he slowly thrust forward, testing his length within her. He went in slow, and a soft at first. A low moan escaped her mouth, not frustrated, not impatient: relieved.

Luna shuttered, “You’re okay. Keep going. Keep going. Keep going. Please.”

Lane held his eyes shut. He focused on the motion, the technique, the rhythm. He slid in and out. In. Deliberate. Out. Thorough. He felt every ridge, every groove, every inch of her as he withdrew and shivered as pushed himself deeper inside.

Luna’s hand grabbed hold of Lane’s thigh. He felt her nails sink into his flesh. Louder, she demanded, “Harder. Keep going.” She dug her nails in deeper, “Lane, Please!”

He gripped the bamboo mat with his toes and replanted his feet. Lane wrapped his left arm around Luna’s waist. His right hand pushed against the tile wall for leverage as he pumped in and out.

Faster.

Further.

Harder.

He leaned forward, his chest pressed against her back. Scolding water splashed against his shoulders and ran down between their bodies.

When tempobet güvenilirmi did he take his shirt off?

Not important. Focus!

He had a job to do.

That’s right. It was a job. He was helping. This wasn’t a performance. This wasn’t a late-night call from an ex. This wasn’t Becca. Lane didn’t have to spend the next hours lying in bed next to someone guessing whether or not they actually loved him, or liked him, or cared. This was different. This was better? This was his–

No! Stop. Focus.

Focus on the job.

Focus on Luna’s trembling moans. Focus on her heart beating the same wild rate his own. They were in sync with another. They always had been. Their hips bucked into each other. Their bare bodies moved with perfectly measured time and pace. They took each other in and out. Harder. Faster. Breath staggered. Moaning. Screaming. Contracting. Clenching.

Release!

They came.

They came together. They were together. As one. As they always had been.

Panting for breath, doubled over Luna, Lane instinctively wrapped his arms around her body tighter. He stayed inside. Lane felt himself pulsing, blood gradually flowing back to wherever else it needed to go. After a moment, and an unexpected shutter from Luna, he pulled out. Standing upright, eyes still shut. Lane peeled off the condom. Then, well, he didn’t really know what to do with himself. He listened to the running water and stood frozen, naked, clutching a used condom, waiting for his brain to catch up to what had just taken place.

Lane almost jumped as he felt himself enter Luna again. No, he gathered, they were a different set of lips. He wanted to look down. Something inside of him wanted to watch. Something else inside of him almost as strong wanted to get dressed and run like hell.

Before he could reconcile with fight or flight, Luna explained, “Even exchange. You help me, I help you.” She slid her tongue back down Lane’s tip to his base before swallowing him once more. Her wet lips hungrily kissed and sucked his length. Every so often, Luna gently dragged her teeth down the top of his shaft then plant dozens of quick kisses on her way back up. Her hands gripped his thighs tighter. Her head bobbed faster. Lane’s heart rate shot back up. He twitched and throbbed, unable to contain himself.

Lane could barely get the words out, only managing to shiver; “Okay, Okay. Okay!”

Luna kept her lips wrapped tightly around his cock. Her left hand moved up and stroked the base of his pole. With her right hand, she tapped his chest.

In his final moments, before the little-death, Lane glanced down to see Luna swallowing him and give a thumbs up with her free hand. He shut his eyes once more as the last of himself was released. There was no holding back the almost wolf-like howl that came from Lane. Every ounce of himself had been spent. Satisfaction could not be denied.

With his eyes still shut, used condom still gripped tightly in his hand, Lane suddenly felt the warmth of Luna’s embrace. She too sighed, and spoke as casual as ever, “Hey,” Lane felt Luna’s thumb and forefinger prying open his right eye. Meeting Luna’s eyes, she breathed out in relief, “You’re a life-saver.” Before she unwrapped herself from Lane, Luna gave him two pats on the back, then dunked her face into the water. She took in a mouthful of water, gargled, and politely spat off to the side. Sensing the unease still hanging behind her, Luna asked, “Lane, you good?”

Lane considered. Good? Physically good? Sexually good? Morally good? Mentally speaking, there was zero processing power left inside him. On an emotional level, Lane felt as though he’d been shattered into a thousand different versions of himself and thrown back together into one, wholly unbreakable being. Good was too narrow of a descriptor that failed on every conceivable level to capture everything that continued to explode and reassemble itself within this world-shattering, beautiful, horrifying and surreal moment.

That in mind, Lane nodded and quickly coughed out, “Yeah. Good. You?”

Luna arched her back as she stretched; “Still a little bloated, but otherwise relieved. I’m sorry to put you on the spot there. The cravings usually go the other way, or not at all when I’m on the rag. I don’t know, maybe it’s the elevation? You seriously have no idea how much that helped. Honestly, thank you.”

With another sigh of relief, Luna turned off the faucet. Before she walked past Lane, she paused to give him an ardent kiss on the cheek; “Look at that, you even folded my clothes. Ursa-Major.” standing on her tiptoes, Luna looked Lane right in the eyes, “Seriously, you are the best.”

Lane sat next to Luna as they toweled off and got dressed. Her sweat pants were stained. So wrapped in a towel Luna remained. She wore a satisfied smile. Lane held a pensive countenance as he still tried to quantify exactly what had just taken place. His concentration was broken, however, by the tolling of the iron bell.

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