SECRETS
The two women were no older than twenty-five, or so Berinda guessed, as she watched them from her hiding-place among the trees. The small glade where they met for their weekly tryst lay near the edge of the forest, not far from the Wood Elves' path, and its location had been a secret for many months. A secret known only to these two furtive women, until Berinda discovered it.
She knew both women vaguely, having briefly worked alongside them at harvest time, but only in recent weeks had she learned of their secret meetings in the woodland glade. There, upon the green grass in the sunshine, they met each week, at the third hour after noon. In a silence broken only by the rustling of leaves and the buzzing of honeybees they made passionate love, breathlessly enjoying each other's gentle caresses until the sun went down on the western plain.
Berinda knew their names: Cathkin of the River Ridge and Lily of the Stoneland. She knew also the names of their husbands, and of their children. What price, she wondered, would these women pay to ensure that she preserved their secret?
She wondered, too, what their husbands would do if they ever discovered the truth. Berinda knew what her own husband would do: nothing at all, for he no longer kept any affection for her and had little interest in her life. In the six years since their marriage their relationship had crumbled, though Berinda still had to yield her body to her spouse's drunken passion every Saturday night. She detested him, and he despised her, calling her a barren witch, cursing her childlessness but still leering at her voluptuous body when she bathed. Her long black hair, reaching down to her bottom, still fascinated him, as did her narrow waist and sumptuous breasts. But Berinda no longer found her husband attractive in any way, nor did she now feel attracted to any man, her preference slowly shifting – as she neared her thirtieth year – to imagine herself in bed with a sensual woman.
Cathkin and Lily were certainly sensual and their lithe suntanned bodies stirred Berinda's desires. She loved to see their blonde hair catching the sunlight of the glade, or their blue eyes shining as they whispered their secret love. Every week for the past two months Berinda had followed them furtively to the forest, creeping behind them as they made their way to their trysting-place, watching them as they slowly undressed. Seeing them kiss and caress in a gasping embrace made Berinda so envious that she almost wept in self-pity. For Cathkin and Lily always laughed whenever they kissed, their mutual affection releasing their boundless joy, their fingers eagerly exploring each other's intimacy with giggles and smiles.
Berinda longed to make her hidden presence known to them, to enter their glade with an honest heart, to admit that she enjoyed spying on their lovemaking. Perhaps they might invite her to join them? Perhaps they might kiss her breasts and stroke her vagina in the way they kissed and stroked each other? Or perhaps they might become angry, running away in shame and fear, tearfully begging Berinda to keep their secret safe?
For the moment, however, she remained content to merely watch them. The sight of their slender naked bodies writhing on the grass gave her such a powerful visual thrill that she always masturbated, crouching among the green leaves with a hand beneath her skirt, coaxing her moist slit to an orgasm that she struggled to keep silent. Then, as her climax subsided, she would crawl quietly away through the undergrowth until she reached the path.
For how many weeks could she endure such furtive self-pleasure, such exquisite temptation, in secretive silence? How long must she wait before her courage grew strong enough to reveal herself to Cathkin and Lily? To these questions Berinda had no answer, though the words tormented her heart each week when she trod the long lonely path back to the village, teardrops still dazzling her eyes as she walked home in the golden twilight.
THE END
Copyright © Karen Sacoma 2005