Written by Ceridwen

24 Aug 2009

As she sat in the Heather, she could just make out the swirls of smoke winding away into the sky from the small crude houses below. She loosened her long golden hair from a neat plait and let it fall across her shoulders. She tugged at her bodice, lifted her skirt, took in a deep breath of intoxicating fragrance, and then flopped into the cool long grass. Looking up at the heavens she marvelled at the soft white shapes that floated above her, and let them carry her away. She loved being this far from the village, she felt so free.

Things were hectic in the village at the moment preparing for Calan Mai. People continually scurried about like rats in the grain store. They were readying themselves for the festival, and because of the visitors from over the water everyone, from king to commoner, was determined it should be the ultimate event. Ceridwen thought the gods must be very pleased, as never had such a fuss been made.

She was exhausted! What with all the cooking and fetching of water, and she’d lost count of how many times she’d pricked her fingers on the endless bows of Hawthorn she’d collected. Not that she was complaining. She loved the festival and this year it was to be so special for her. At long last she was old enough to dance the polyn Mai and go a-maying. She had never been so excited.

She let her mind drift momentarily to the thought of lying with a man deep in the woods. She had heard the stories of what ceremonial union was like on the night of Calan Mai, but of course she had never experienced it. She was alive with anticipation and her thoughts were filled with the images of naked bodies entwined. She had practiced the ritual chants in her mind for many moons now; so desperate was she for the gods to smile on her favourably tonight.

Safe in the knowledge she was far from home and drunk with expectation of what the night would hold for her, she let her hand journey the length of her excited torso and trace the shape of her feminine features. Her dainty hands cupped one of her heaving breasts and she marvelled at the hardness of her protruding nipple. She squeezed it and flinched with the invigorating sensation that surfed through her body. Her hand moved lower now until it rested between the warmth of her thighs. She teased herself, enjoying the soft touch as her fingers gently stimulated her swollen clitoris. Flicking at it playfully she began to provoke the familiar sensation that she loved so much. She closed her eyes and imagined the hand of another there. The contemplation made her bite at her bottom lip. Temperate vibrations sent waves of shivers from her toes to her occupied mind as she timorously slipped a finger into her warm pussy. She was always surprised by the moistness that met her touch but revelled in it all the same. She stopped short of orgasm and nervously looked about her. She sensed the gods were watching.

To Ceridwen and her people, the world was a magical, unpredictable place ruled by unseen forces and supernatural elements. Every rock, tree and river had a spirit and a force of will attached to it. Never knowing when she might be in the presence of a deity she was always very careful. She left nothing to chance. She’d heard stories of past villagers who went a-maying and never came back. They had gone into the woods on the night of Calan Mai and never returned. She considered that they must have somehow angered the gods with their lack of reverence, and there was no doubt in Ceridwen’s mind that they had been captured by the faeries. She would take no chances and decided that she should stop what she was doing and return to the village to finish her chores.

Aware that she would no doubt be missed by her austere Aunt, she straightened herself, gathered up the Heather she was sent to collect, and made her merry way back home. As she neared the hurly burly she caught sight of Gerwyn, the Smith’s lad, as he chopped wood for the festival fires. She marvelled at his masculine shape, no-one in the village was stronger than he. She drank in each sinewed muscle and smiled coyly as their eyes met. The animalistic hunger in his didn’t go amiss either. Further along she saw some other youths erecting the pole for the night’s celebrations, they too looked at her in a way she had never known before. In response to their welcomed attentions she suddenly became very aware of her own body. As she walked by she jutted out her breasts, straightened her back and adopted a gentle wiggle. She wasn’t sure why, but it felt right.

She delivered the freshly picked Heather to her belligerent Aunt who screamed obscenities at her for her insolent lethargy. She managed to duck several flailing blows and quickly gathered the buckets to take to the river. As she meandered to the water’s edge she could just make out the sound of a song emanating from the edge of the boundary wall. It sounded familiar, yet different, but nevertheless, so, so beautiful. Intrigued, she felt herself being drawn along, mesmerised by its tuneful majesty.

She neared a group of lads that sat gathered around a smouldering hearth and, careful to conceal her presence, peered at them from behind a small clay wall. There in front of her she beheld one of the visitors from over the water. He sat strumming as he sang about Bealtaine. She listened intently to his words. He sang about the earth awakening, of new growth and fertility; he sang about young lovers leaping flames and the flowers in their hair; he sang about all the loves lost and found on this most sacred of nights. He looked lost in his song, and she sensed his joy as he cheerfully crooned.

Ceridwen thought he was truly beautiful. His auburn locks crowned a handsome face, studded with bright fiery eyes. His smile was magical and his voice deep and melodic. It resonated through her and she could swear it touched her very soul. She was moved by the way he expressed the splendour of his poetic words. She never wanted him to stop singing, not ever.

A flurry of disruptive bellows spoilt the moment. Irate threats of being beaten to within an inch of her life came hurtling through the air. Her Aunt had come looking for her and yet despite the imminent risk of violence, Ceridwen just couldn’t drag herself away. She couldn’t disconnect from the bard’s song. She stayed fixated and just before she felt the angry clawed hand of her Aunt grab a mound of her hair and yank her from her vantage point, she was sure for the briefest instant, he had noticed her. The beautiful bard from over the water had looked at her. A smile in her direction and meant for her. She was sure of it. The image became etched in her psyche. Imbued with the joy from that fleeting moment, not even the searing pain of later being whipped by her Aunt could wipe the smile from her serene face.

Soon the gods tugged at the sun and a beautiful band of warm hues was drawn across the horizon. Before the curtain of night could fall across the land, the festival was begun. Unabated merriment ensued and a grand feast was consumed by all. Laughter filled the air and animated dancers amassed on the green. The ceremonial coelcerth and surrounding fires were lit high on the hill to satisfy the gods and await the young lovers who would later leap their flames.

With ribbon wrapped about her wrist, Ceridwen weaved and skipped with wild abandonment about the polyn Mai. She smiled and nodded at each potential suitor that swept by her. She felt flushed with heady desire as the evening closed in, and once again images of writhing naked bodies imbued her mind’s eye. Her heart beat with the fast pace of the fiddle as she threw her head back and laughed. She danced and danced and was twirled relentlessly from the arms of one lad to another. She became disorientated and stumbled a little. Struggling to regain her balance, she was only saved from falling by two strong arms that gripped her from behind. She spun around, still giggling, and found herself staring into the eyes of the beautiful bard from over the water.

She stopped. For her, everything suddenly stopped.

He placed a steadying arm about her waist and gently brushed her hair from her face and without warning placed his lips on hers and kissed her sweet mouth. She swooned and her legs gave way beneath her, but luckily his grip was strong enough to hold her lips to his. “I’m Oenghus. What’s your name?” he asked her in his beautiful Irish lilt.


“Well Ceridwen, would you like to come leap the flames with me?” He whispered his invitation through an exquisite smile, and placing a finger beneath her chin, turned her head towards the distant lights that flickered high on the hilltops against the fading crimson sky. She had barely time to nod her head when grasping her hand tightly he took off across the fields pulling her in bewilderment behind him. The gentle breeze fanned her blushed cheeks as they ran and she suddenly became awake to the fact that she would soon be in the amorous embraces of the beautiful bard from over the water. The thought thrilled her. She felt a stirring between her legs.

The moon, full and round, finally presented herself to the hilltop revellers. They worshipped her arrival with excited ritual chant. Some lit branches and waved them wildly above their heads. An old crone served hot mead from a cauldron and bade the younsters to drink the potent liquid. Oenghus stopped near the coelcerth and sat Ceridwen on his knee. “Drink with me”, he beckoned, folding his arms about Ceridwen and pulling her deep into his warmth. As he cradled her, he tenderly plucked a rogue petal from her cheek that had fallen from a garland of flowers that adorned her golden mane. He took a cup of sacred nectar from the crone and invited Ceridwen to sip the potion he hoped would invoke her passion. He watched her swallow and then lapped at the dewy drops that lingered on her plump soft lips with his eager tongue.

Oenghus briefly relinquished his grip on the fair maiden, so that he could leap the flames with the other young lads of the village. He hoped that it may bring him luck on his long journey home, and it didn’t hurt to show off a little either. The night was upon them now, and the moment of Ceridwen’s erotic baptism grew ever nearer. The flames began to wane as chants were recited, stories told, and scared songs sung. Then all the revellers joined hands in a circle around the main coelcerth to sing a final prayer in umbrage to the gods. Once the ceremony was complete and the gods sated, the chaotic congregation flocked into the woods like a gaggle of startled geese.

The crackling of the forest floor echoed loudly beneath Ceridwen’s feet as she was hauled through the trees. The wooded spirits stood tall and imposing around the soon-to-be lovers. Their leaved arms seemed to funnel the pair’s route. Ceridwen’s head became drowsy with the continuous influx of scents and sounds. A cornucopia of new senses assaulted her reason leaving her vulnerable to the night. Yet luckily Oengus’s grasp on her hand was strong and confident and his direction purposeful.

Eventually they stopped and Oenghus manoeuvred her beneath a great Oak. He perused his bounty and then gently slipped his hand inside her blouse and began to softly kiss her neck. Gently but firmly he positioned her against the rough bark of the trunk and raised her arms above her head. She felt powerless to move. She no longer felt she had control over her own will, and so as his hands methodically explored her womanly shape, she remained motionless. Slowly he loosened her bodice and began to peel her blouse away. He fed hungrily on her rounded breasts. His hand then found its way under her skirt and with masterful ease he removed her undergarments. He laid her reverently on the ground and parted her legs. As the cold night air bit at her moist pussy she felt exposed, and yet safe in his embrace. Her heart fluttered as her skirt was lifted further still until, at last, it was bunched around her waist. Then all but naked, he began to meticulously touch and fondle Ceridwen in the most intimate of places.

His touch was exquisite and velvet vibrations rippled through her flesh igniting each nerve ending as they rushed by. The fuses of fulfilment were lit and her mind and body prepared for the imminent explosion by tensing every muscle. The sensations became so intense that they were almost unbearable and yet resistance was futile. The animalistic onslaught of her handsome captor was inevitable. He tore at her garments and eventually freed her milky smooth figure from the confines of her clothes. He took a short moment to appreciate the virgin territory he was about to plunder. His heart thumped loudly in his chest. Her naked beauty was breath-taking. Almost afraid he might spoil nature’s artistry his touch softened as he lifted her legs about his neck and tenderly licked her delicious juices. Her body suddenly became alive and thrashed like a trapped animal. He tightened his grip on her limbs and forced his tongue deeper into the verdant crevice. Ceridwen’s feral cries ripped through the atmosphere, alerting the gods to her ordeal.

Thoroughly exhausted Ceridwen obediently allowed herself to be repositioned. Now on all fours Oenghus ran his large hands up and down her back and kneaded her upturned globes. He couldn’t help licking his lips as he tugged off his breeches and sited himself between her slightly parted legs. He carefully pushed her head into the mossy forest floor and parted her easily accessible arse cheeks to inspect both tight openings. His fingers slipped easily in to her moistness and squelched sumptuously as he pushed them in and out. He punctured her tighter orifice with his thumb and then began working all his digits rhythmically, sending shudders through his receptive prize. He loved the way her hips swayed in reaction to his probing. She was wonderfully wet and sensing it was time, he grabbed a handful of her thick locks and cautiously forced his hard cock into her waiting pussy. He felt her flinch as he drove warily inside her inch by inch. Once inside he moved his hands to grasp her hips and started to slowly drill deeper. He could feel the friction his rigid shaft induced as it rubbed against her taut virginal walls. He loved the sensation. He worked away patiently until he eventually felt her loosen and then, gradually, he increased the pace to a fevered thrust. The loud slaps of flesh on flesh spurred him on and spinning her round he found he was able to bore even deeper inside her. Ceridwen’s screams began to fade to whimpers now, and once he noticed her blazing eyes roll upwards into her head, Oenghus knew she had reached climax. He sensually kissed her sweaty torso that lay limp in his embrace and eased his movements accordingly.

He placed her preciously on the floor and removed his tunic. Lying beside her he kissed her passionately and held her close, happy to see her smiling back at him. The lovers engaged in a long exchange of delicate kisses and stroked each other playfully. They talked too. Oenghus told her all about Ireland and the songs he sung. She lay comfortable in his warm embrace and listened attentively.

With time to catch her breath and feeling a little less overwhelmed now, Ceridwen curiously explored her beautiful bard. She used a single finger to map out his muscular shape. Her mouth joined in as she kissed and licked at his neck and chest. Confidence comforted her and then coaxed her to sit astride her man. Once in place she rubbed her hands in sweeping movements across his nakedness and happily sucked and slurped in a journey from his crown to his feet. Moving lower she stopped to scrutinize his striking shaft and dared herself to slide it between her lips. A nervous tongue flicked at it experimentally and then moved more confidently along its length. She stole a gaze at her man through her bedraggled hair, and was inspired to continue by the rapturous look engraved on his face. She purposefully placed his throbbing cock between her adolescent lips and hesitantly pushed him deep into her mouth. Reassured by Oenghus’s positive reactions she persisted on her maiden venture and repeated the action over and over.

Oenghus’s groans of satisfaction reverberated through the ether. His thighs tensed and, as Ceridwen’s long fingernails clawed at his arms and shoulders, he knew he was on the verge. Throwing her on her side he entered her once more and now in sync they moved as one racing towards orgasm. Rampant grinding and unbridled kissing soon led to an outburst of sexual energy as both experienced orgasm. A kaleidoscope of colours flooded behind Ceridwen’s eyes temporarily blinding her to Oenghus’s contorted expressions. The spent pair collapsed into each other.

As they lay uncovered, side by side on the forest floor, Ceridwen looked up to the heavens once more. This time she could barely make out the shape of the moon through the dappled canopy of the immense tree, and smiled in recognition and thanks for her wonderful erotic adventure. With that she blanketed her lover with her own nakedness and slept.

Oenghus drew his arms tightly around the sleeping beauty and wondered. He was to return home tomorrow, should he take her with him?