short story: LADY MALAHAT

As if two jobs and as much photography as I can possibly squeeze in wasn't enough, I thoroughly enjoy writing short stories. Creative writing. Though my style may not be to the liking of some people, as it's blunt and often from the dark side of humanity. But I don't write for other people. I write for my own pleasure and to maintain good mental health. Here is a sample for you.

On the rugged and treacherous west coast where so many ships wrecks have found there final resting place, in a remote location where the forest meets the sea, where bears and whales congregate and only eagles bear witness thereto, where the only loggers you see nowadays are the loggerhead turtles, lady Malahat is sitting by her makeup mirror, carefully, meticulously applying her skincare products in her cabin, after a long day in the embrace of Mother Nature, exposed to such primeval forces as primarily the burning sun, the howling wind & the snapping white teeth of the ocean, on the edge of the old growth.

A solitary harbour seal pops his head out of the water and wonders what goes on in there, in the yellow light of the cabin, where shadows are dancing on the wall. Then he dips back down again to continue his pursuit of small prey he can call dinner.

When she's satisfied that the pinnacle of perfection has been reached, she stands up, tuns the light off in her makeup mirror, takes her blue lace bra and panties off and let them fall to the floor, only to immediately pick them up and put them on the foot of her bed. She admires herself for a moment in the large wall mirror.

She opens the door and walks naked, without a care, tall and proud, down the board walk to the outdoor hot tub hidden between the cedars and spruce, the canopy towering high above her, swaying in the wind, sporadically allowing just a quick glimpse of the ghostly white, crescent moon. She's proud of her naked body and secretly hopes there are un-invited eyes hiding behind the towering fir. Reaching the hot tub, she lowers her immaculate body into the warm water, steam rising to the forest canopy as the moon casts its light on her bronzed curves in all their perfect sizes and shapes. 

Later that night, as the stellar sea lions keep a watchful eye on the Maersk container ship ever so slowly making its way down the coast in the pitch black night, she lights a fire in the outdoor fire pit. She contemplates for a moment whether she's hungry enough that she should cook something over the fire, but decides against it. Instead, she grabs a bottle of cold white wine from the fridge, hangs a glass upside down between her other hand's middle and index finger and walks back outside. For a while she just sits there, listening to the crackling fire and the cooing of the wildlife at night, glass of cold wine in hand. She hears footsteps coming closer, but can't see anything at night on the unlit path, until she can vaguely make out the face of the neighbour's adult son in the light of the fire.

"I saw you in the hot tub", he said. "I just wanted to come and apologize if  it was inappropriate of me to stare, even if you couldn't see me in the dark window". She looked him over, top to bottom. She's seen him plenty of times before when he visited his Dad, but she enjoyed undressing him with her eyes. He was quite handsome, as far as she was concerned. A smile slowly crept over her face, like a cloud silently coming up on the moon: "That's quite alright", she said. "I hope you liked what you saw?".

"Immensely", he answered.

"Did I turn you on?"

"Absolutely", he replied, with just enough of a blush for her to smell blood.

"Glass of wine?" she asked him. "That would be nice" he replied. "It's been a rough day". "Then let's consider it a reward. I'll get you a glass" she said and got up. In the kitchen she took at look at him through the window, sitting there quietly by the fireplace. Probably a few years younger than me, she thought to herself. But that's ok. Here tonight, gone tomorrow. He'll be back climbing the career ladder in the city, faster than you can say "Monday morning". She grabbed a glass, held it up to the light in the ceiling to make sure it was clean and then headed for the door. Before her hand made it to the handle, she stopped and contemplated for a second. Then she went back, into her bedroom, opened her white blouse and took her bra off. Then she put her blouse back on, grabbed the glass and joined him back by the fire pit.

"Sorry to keep you waiting". A smile came across his face, revealing his straight, white teeth: " Don't worry", he said. "I don't think either of us are in a hurry to get back to the mainland. "You can say that again", she confirmed. "But I think we could do with some nice, quiet music" and then she went inside, again, picked up her phone and her Bluetooth speaker before she stopped for a moment to make sure there was nothing else she'd forgotten. 

Back outside, she sat down right across from him, only the fire between them. She scrolled through her playlist and came to an abrupt stop when her eyes, mischievous and beautiful as they were, landed on Luther Vandross. "If there has ever been a Luther moment in life" she told herself, "this is definitely it".

It was getting close to midnight and the only one who knew they were here, alone, in front of the fire pit with a bottle of cold wine and Luther Vandross softly accompanying them in the background to set the mood, was the great horned owl in the tall black spruce behind him. He tilted his head slightly, looked down on them.

"The owl is keeping an eye on you" she said with a grin, and pointed up to the serious looking bird. He turned around and look up and she used his inattentive moment to open one more button in her blouse, making sure there was a good cleavage on display. She wanted to torture him a little bit, she decided. She liked that kind of power. Loved the attention she knew she'd be getting.

"I think we need to stoke the fire a bit", she ambiguously announced and bent over forward suspiciously long, to grab the stoker and prod the logs. While bent over, her eyes kept watch on him and smiled slightly when his eyes opened wide and the sight of her firm breasts and her hard nipples just two meters from him. Victory was sweet to her.

She leaned back up. "Should we put another log on the fire?", she asked him. It took him a moment to collect himself, as if he hadn't heard her at first. Then he cleared his throat and agreed that yes, sure, maybe that was a good idea. It was such a beautiful night.

"Are you hungry?" she asked. She knew he was, but it was probably for a different kind of meat. She couldn't help but notice the bulge in his jeans.

"Not really", he said, "but another glass of wine would be nice...if okay with you?".

"Ya, I would like that, too. But you go get it, please. There's another bottle in the fridge". "Are you sure that's ok?", he inquired. "I don't want you to phone in a break and enter, if I go get it". She broke out in laughter. "Even if I did, nobody would be here until tomorrow morning at the earliest" she said after collecting herself. "We're too far out".

Not nearly far enough out, he thought to himself.

As he got up and went into her kitchen, she followed him with her eyes, like a hungry lion would lock its sight on the weakest gazelle in the herd, contemplating whether it should go for the instant kill via a lethal bite to the jogular, or just sink its teeth into the leg, pull it down and tear it apart bite by painful bite while still alive. Maybe just jump on its back and rip open its stomach and let blood, guts and intestine spill out and do the job.

But wasn't the hunt more exciting than the kill? What's more satisfying, cooking your meal or eating it? See him burn or hear him scream?

A lot of thoughts started running through her head, complicating the process. The emotional and the physical needs were on collision course and she wasn't quite sure what proverbial horse to put her money on. Was it the feeling she wanted? The emotional intimacy. Or was it the pure pleasure, culminating in what hopefully would be a mutual orgasm?

As the wind rustled through the canopy, the owl spotted movement on the ground with his laser vision. A small field mouse uncertain of his surroundings apparently thought himself safe from predators. The owl quickly turned his head sharp left with a jerk, confirmed that he'd in fact seen what he thought he'd seen and then he quietly spread his wings and took off. 

Coming in like a stealth bomber, he swooped down and picked up the small rodent in his claws, before using his powerful wings to gain altitude again, as the mouse, still alive, struggled to get free, to no avail.

Landing safely and confidently on the branch again, the owl used his powerful clawed beak to rip the little mouse apart alive, swallowing whole chunks of meat without hesitation. Nothing like a fresh kill that's still warm.

"Got it", he exclaimed as he swaggered back out, this tall kid with his straight back, wide shoulders and strong posture, like a bear standing on his rear legs, sniffing the air. She'd come to realize that he might not be as old as she'd first though. But she couldn't be bothered to ask his age. It wouldn't be appropriate, she thought, and it didn't matter much, anyways. Younger than her, for sure, but very developed in every sense of the word.

"Let's go sit on the beach", she suggested. "We'll bring the wine and the glasses". He looked at her for a brief moment, in the light of the fire. Tilted his head slightly, as if surprised. "Okay!", he said. They got up and made their way down the path to the beach. "I can't see a thing in the dark", he said. "Just follow me" was her response, as she grabbed his hand , taking the lead and pulling him behind her. "Strong, warm but soft hands", was her first impression. "They will feel good on my body".

Not a cloud on the sky and the moon nearly lighting up the entire beach, with a thousand stars providing the orchestral, glittering overture. Nothing but black silhouettes around them where there would be boulders and rock formations tomorrow morning, all covered in the greenery of the temperate coastal rain forest. But right now, there were only the two of them. A bottle of wine - their second, two glasses and the sound of the waves washing up on the beach. Other than the sound of the crashing waves in the dark night; dead silence. They sat down in the sand, put the bottle and the glasses beside them. She bent her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. He sat down close enough to her that he could actually smell her. Stretched out his legs and leaned backwards slightly, arms stretched out behind him for support. She looked at him and smiled. He had a nice, hairy chest. 

He looked back and her with a sly smile slowly forming on his lips: "I got some weed, if you like? Fresh BC bud".

It didn't take long before they both started sliding into a state of bliss and relaxation. A parallel universe where the lines between reality and imagination got blurred. Whether reality or induced psychosis mattered little. They felt good in each others company. They saw whales breaching and the sound of pumping blow holes was overwhelming in their state of heightened sensory capacity.

They both lied down in the sand on their backs, looking at the stars on the sky for a while, said nothing but just enjoyed the spectacle unfolding before their eyes. How long they'd been laying like that was anyone's guess, but finally he rolled over on his stomach and looked at her. He examined her from top to bottom: Her hair freshly washed, smooth and silky, down to past her shoulders. Eyes inviting and beautiful, like a bottomless sea to disappear in. Her lips beautiful and voluptuous, in just the right shade of red, a slightly raised upper lip, to make it all even better. Unbeknownst to her, her tongue came out and circled her lips, slightly moisturizing them. His eyes continued their journey, down over her perfectly rounded chin, down to her cleavage. She looked beautiful without bra and her perfect, firm round breasts were poorly hidden behind her white, buttoned shirt. Her flat stomach led him down to her well rounded, narrow hips where her green patterned skirt took over, covering her what surely would be perfect, straight legs. "Warm thighs, for sure", he thought to himself. "I wonder if she's clean shaven? If I pull off her white panties, will she be smooth and delicious on my tongue?".

He looked back at her face. Her eyes were still closed. With some hesitation, he very gently laid his arm on her stomach and studied her reaction. She didn't flinch. No reaction at all. Very slowly and carefully, he moved his hand upwards, prodding her reaction as it crept up centimetre by centimetre. Still nothing. He could feel her stomach slowly rise and fall with every breath.

He very gently opened an extra button in her shirt, while looking at her eyes, and exposed her breast to the moon. Her eyes remained closed. No sculptor in the world could have sculpted her more perfectly. He gently touched her warm breast with his hand.

"Suck it", she commanded of him, with her eyes closed.

"What?", was the only thing he could come up with, like a criminal caught with a smoking gun.

"Suck my nipples", she repeated, eyes closed. "I know that's what you want, and I like that". Her breath became a little more frequent.

He moved his right hand slowly over to support her exposed breast and leaned his upper body slightly over her, slowly putting his mouth over her nipple. He felt her nipple harden in his mouth as he gently sucked it and he started jiggling it with his wet tongue, concentrating his lips around it and pulling it slightly while his hand took a little firmer grip on her breast. It felt warm in his hand and as he sucked her nipple and let his tongue play with it, she put her hand on the back of his head, opening her mouth slightly as her breathing became heavier.

Supporting himself on his left elbow, he moved his right hand down and explored her warm thighs under her skirt, slowly moving into her panties. She arched her back and took a heavy breath as she moved her right hand down to his crotch and unzipped his pants. With closed eyes, she dug her hand into his undies and felt his warm balls in her hand, only to move up and grab his throbbing cock by the shaft. He raised himself up on both knees and pulled his T-shirt off, her taking the opportunity to put both hands on his hips and pull his pants down so his erection swung out like a pendulum. She dug both her hands into his white ass and pulled him back down on top of her: "Take me now. Take me hard. I want to feel you deep inside me" she half moaned, half commanded...That's when they heard it. First the growl. Then the loud commotion in the bushes about 10 metres away from them...

*****

This story is purely fictional. For the pictures,well, I obviously had to be there. The perfect getaway/hideaway when you got the writer's blues.

I wanted to write this story purposely without an ending, in order to give you a chance to "build on it" and make your own customized ending, just the way you want it.

It's funny, when you write a story, how you  "wanna go to Rome" but you "end up in Madrid". I started out only knowing that I wanted to write an unfinished story, but had no idea where it would take me. But Madrid is a nice place. What do you think?

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