3 comments/ 8695 views/ 0 favorites Autumn's Arrival By: MrFoxwood It is at the height of summer, its climax, when it seems that all has reached capacity, when beasts tire in pursuit of food and mate and pant instead in the shade, with sunburnt skies and sun-blind eyes, when endless heat dries and curls the verdant land. This is when I leave behind the brick oven of town, molten tarmac snake tongue, soft beneath my feet as I head north. I begin an ascent in to the foothills with the haze of mountain ridges on the horizon, heavy hot purple, massive and oppressive. I climb through meadows, sweat wet skin feeding fly and meal for mosquito. Long grass waves in a breeze that offers no respite, just furnace caress, too lazy to stir much, a syrup ripple that fades in exhaustion. Wild flowers are limp under sun. All wait, all hope, for nights far too brief. Now is the time of the nocturne, a moon-keeper, of the naked sleeper, of the skin stuck to skin and no appetite for sin. Ahead the woods promise shade and the first step out of the sun is bliss. The second step tells of heartbroken fallacy, of air thick and wild sticky with sap, so humid, plasters shirt to chest. Brittle twig crackle and autumns past now tinder dry, all is tinder awaiting a spark. On and on I march, higher, briefly white-water far below. Here and there columnar trunks give way to shaded glade. At each transition there is a moment of calm forgiveness, of apology when it seems that all may change, that sweat may be washed with cool air and body may feel renewed. But it never lasts. I linger on the edge of a clearing, skirting around, dipping myself in and out of the fresh heat under the sun and the muggy shade under trees, hoping to prolong the simple joy of continued shift. But it seems that once a clearing has been tasted, once its delicious difference is sampled, it shrivels and burns, joyless and relentless on my skin. Finally, through trees and over ridges I witness the last violent slash of burning blood-light seep in the horizon, its sky-stain remains as the relative cool of night air makes its fleeting presence felt. Even this fails though, faltering, stumbling and rolling, its fresh caress flirted then dirtied, soiled and smothering. From up here, at this height, where my walk has taken me high in the hills, I can see the town, further away to the west, the city. These places, habitations, aglow in the fading light, radiating seas of sweltering discomfort, desperate seekers of respite steaming in fetid air. From here it could be torment on a biblical scale; the end times, a gnashing of teeth as civilisation collapses under the roasting summer heat. From up here. I turn away, feeling worse for the view, determined to leave it behind me, and find cool solitude. No more comfortable but with renewed intent I head northwards, rising ground beneath my feet once more, soles sore, a pull in my calves but an eagerness to move. Until finally, gasping in oppressive heat, clothes a second skin, I reach a new vista. The blanket of stars is obscured behind tumultuous cloud, covertly rolled in, this only serves to raise the pressure, the hot greasy air pressing in on me. The woods, the hills, it seems this was not such a good idea, and then, gaping void in the pit of my stomach: I am lost. No lights out in the darkness that'll guide me back home, no tell-tale landscape that I know. Inside my head there are most certain maps, but not tonight at least. Tonight I have nought but dark heat and incessant insect buzz. I rest a while, stretched out along fallen trunk, hands behind head, intent on waiting for dawn and deliverance. The oil forest air laps and pulses about me, a million creatures restless throughout the sun's heat come to feast under the moon. Vixen-bark and owl-song away over the pitch leaf floor. I am an island out here, human beast amongst the trees. The calls and screams of the night animals' dance flow together, they are lullaby to this weary over-heated fool, and I am slowly aware and partially delighted to find myself dipping my mind in to a cooling pool of sleep. I am unsure if slumber has been seconds or hours but my eyes are open and darkness prevails. Unwilling to linger longer about I drop to refreshed feet and take my leave. Uncertain but directly I set off once more. Not a hundred yards on through arboreal cathedral, woven betwixt the snuffles and shuffles of the night life, a giggle, of innocent mischief to be had and of games to be played. A trick of my mind, a dream that stayed too long of course. But there, there again, ahead and away to my right. As footfalls fast through leaves of autumns past, footfalls fleeting and footfalls feline, a spirit, a breeze, not to be seen, never to be chased, madness on the end of ones reach. A flash of white, in the distance between trees. A perfect subdued lightning strike to my mind, faster than my eyes but unmistakeable. A flash of white, the flick of doe tail, quarry afoot. A snow flurry, a blissful cool thought. A flash of white, a comet's shot, a wish to make. A flash of white, a flag to whet, a surrender. My feet seduced and followed. I near, I know, I do. Never a clear view, always on the periphery of vision, reluctant and playful. Skipping away as my eyes twitch towards, but it grows there, flashed white solidifies, moves with intent. And then, then there's the scent, a wisp on the night air, a caress of my soul, perfect and promising, the wood smoke of autumn. A flicker of flame, a spiral of smoke, the trees seem to part and revelation comes. Monolith juts from leaf-strewn floor, moss-topped intrusion, known as the witches' table. Upon this and demanding dominance, the white flash formed female: curved, blonde hair like gold sunlight, rich and full, rose-cheeked and sheathed in moonlit cotton. At the foot of this altar, svelte silk vision tipped with cascading red curls, lips turned up and eyes bright with dark mischief. She carries handful of sprigs, green leaves and green twigs, dangles and releases with joy over the flames. Turning and beaming she nears her companion, curling white smoke briefly obscures their lingering touch. Two pairs of eyes coquettish towards me before joined salacious together, hungry smiles and Red pushes Blonde back, crawling over reclined form to sit. Blonde's fingers reach behind and find rough stone beneath pillow of moss. Above lips meet, Blonde eager, levering Red open, hands on silk like liquid, tracing form, ascending fine flank to find fair skin on shoulder freckle flecked. Red tips her head and sweeps hair back, offering throat to her companion, knowing look over lover's locks, telling me her time will come. As Red sits above, Blonde dominates, assured movements, composed limbs that Red moves around. Her fingers slowing Blonde's enthused lips and tongue. Slipping lower to the roses embroidered across buxom chest. Fingertips coast lower to tease out taut teat, mischief in eyes glancing to me as she descends to take between teeth. Blonde's gasp melts to giggle, silenced as Red embraces their mouths as one once more. Red rises, erect upon Blonde, lover looking up, fingers on bare knees, knuckles knocking silk high, revealed thigh, as she leans back. She grips moss, fingers sunk in green, mouth parted and tongue pressed behind teeth, chest rising, eyes intent on Blonde beneath. Blonde creeps her hands higher, thumbs inside thigh, calm as she coaxes, eyes locked, tongue telling of hidden impatience, ravenous, patience boiled dry. The need to feed, to sustain, to consume. Red gives silent writhing shudder, knuckles white, curling smoke eddies, splitting and washing over firm flesh. A smirk, giving low slow blow to arch Red's back before she beckons to me. Blonde's hands leave thighs below, progressing possessed over cotton dress to find rising chest, she cups absently. Then, with force, as if to contain herself and focus her all to the sapphic alliance made between twined legs. Lovers' mouths hum and give gentle gasp as below two pairs of lips kiss, slither and slide, slipping and grind. Blonde bends knee about Red's shoulder, calf kissed and ankle held as rhythm finds itself between dancing hips. Red's hand reaches to idly fondle Blonde's breast through strained cloth, meeting moreish movements, digits directed to mouths, tips bitten and sucked. I drop fresh fuel to flame and smoke excites, spurring the writhe of bodies back and forth. Billowing clouds cover Blonde's ample body, shrouding her dominance, subduing her control. Red grins, lip between teeth, grinding herself firm, thrusting with hips and hands squeezing tight. About her the smoke caresses, tendrils like fingers creeping up flanks, rippling over silk to toy over breasts. Lace trim peeling back, then smoke thickens below bust and presses up, offering swelling globes barely contained. Red seems to thicken, to grow fuller and glow, her hips granting pleas from her lover, begs of release. Red's hand descends, spiralled with smoke, twisted around Blonde's thigh and pressed to their join, Blonde cries out her first utterance of defeat. Head back, breasts thrust afore, Red lunges her all 'tween Blonde's passive thighs. Smoke curls and adorns lovers' forms with wings and halos and eager hands. It shifts and it swirls, making mouths with which to pleasure, supporting arched backs and groping firm flesh. Up Red's body, over pale skin, on heaving breasts and on to throat, smoke licks and smoke kisses, over jaw, spiking as crown 'til mouth gasps in delight and inhales so deep. A current pulling all in, until, at last, against Blonde's peaking pleasure, between bodies borne of one, of sweat and fruit and lust complete, she pours herself forth so to her own as to come, the scream of summer's surrender as autumn at last arrives. Disrupted and disengaged Blonde departs, white ghost through the trees, her light finally faltering and leaving us as two with new chill dancing to meet us in forest . Self-assured and showing eager smile of going for miles, Red adjusts silk and invites me upon her altar. Naked, the air nips my skin as bidden I lie on mattress of moss. Above me, movement in the night canopy catches my eyes, green leaves falling, drifting, buoyed on warm fire currents, they yellow and brown until they descend around Red as she straddles my form. The breeze picks up, pirouetting this autumnal cascade about its priestess, twining it with the endless wood smoke. Her seat atop me warms to my soul against the rising chill that surrounds, I am full, ready, expectant and eager, and her eyes betray a mirrored need within her, despite her teasing lack of haste. She lowers her body, silk to my chest, lips by my ear, promises, warm breath and warm breasts. Red retreats, fingertips on my ribs, knowing smile, hips elliptic bringing her wet heat in closing spiral about me. At last, finally, feeling her envelop me within heated slip and tight grip, satisfaction meets my mouth aghast, wonder at her perfect poise upon me. She rises and falls, slow, deliberate, delicious. The wood smoke, her smoke, for she is autumn, billows and puffs about us under her spell. At once innocent and familiar and guilty and foreign, caressing her, clothing her, forming new fingers to press to her skin, to pull at her silk. A whisper to my ear, and a brief lick there before she rises again, finger to my lips, taking my kiss and lifting it to her bust, her silk there falling away. Liquid about her in viscous descent, clinging about revealed breasts then ribs and pale stomach until it seeps away about our thighs, soaking to nothing, through moss. My enchantress laughs at my wide eyes, then pulls me to her chest, offering firm nubs through full auburn locks, sighing in bliss at my touch. Unquenched my mouth is detached as I'm pushed back, to watch autumn once more twist and grind about my core. Her hands idle about her breasts, joined by smoke that thickens through valley and streams direct to parted lips. She inhales, holds and returns her lips to mine, exhaling fume like autumn cream, warm white light at first afore, then behind my eyes, rivulets run gullet slow until lips leave once more. Fingers replace, slender and pure, wound and rounded with translucent ringlets to unwind and flow, creeping and seeping over tongue as rivulets swell and warmth glows from within. I utter my perfect convulsing bliss, smoke rings on my breath, coaxing a shift in desire, an abandon in autumn's ride. She rises and falls, jog trot to increase, control released, jostling, now seasonal beast. She grunts above, our fingers interlocked beside my head. Red hair bounce, breasts jounce, nipples ripe to sustain and offered again. My feet flat on moss, back arched away, lifting her, bringing her closer so lips can latch and tongue can swirl. The smoke about her, and by association about me, endless touch of endless fingers over skin, pleasures and pleases up through hair, sense immense in undulating waves while the wet heat at our core remains constant. We share thrumming pulse, changed only by constriction with each, and every, wanton jolt and grunt. Above us, through thinning leaves, starlight like frost is scattered across heaven, reflecting in her eyes. Her breath steams with each pant consumed by smoke. Through distant trees, mountain tops that should be dark seem to throb with effort of light. Autumn grins for a moment, then thrusts and grinds down hard to elicit animal whimper, mouth back to mine, sharing breath and smoke, heat and need, tongues and teeth, my hands pinned hard to altar. Her body tight, tense, taut, frozen in all except about me where she writhes and bucks, massage for every inch as I heat and swell within. Arboreal groan accompanies her rise to straightening, motionless save the steady, shallow, urgent pulse of hip thrusts. Mountain tops all but aglow, my own tip tormented, smoke 'tween her grip on me, endless perfection of touch. Smoke and leaves as vortex about, mirrored in her touch on me, her squeeze, her delight, straining to pull and suck, locked within, every fibre alight and cocked. The billowing white figures around us give but an inch as we seem to shrink, with cry and seismic shudder climax comes. Seasonal surge of spilt seed erupting like ne'er before, backs arched and arms flailing atop altar, smoke void of sentience as it simply swirls and eddies about us and our bucking bodies. Constant stream, flowing flooded, of inaudible love and realised release, lips on lips, low breath, hands on hips, whispered moan and final flush of passion peaked. Still firm within, still 'tween pulsing pleasure, dragged free with slick wet slip to stand glossy erect behind tired lips. Autumn dismounts, satisfyingly dishevelled, drops fresh fuel to flames and wraps unseen skins about silk-sheathed body. Contented smile meets me as I warm by the fire. Autumn is here. Through the trees, mountain tops are picked out in glint of white, of autumn's replacement already away on the horizon. Seated upon ground of autumns' past she rests in the lee of my form, waiting out night's darkness until the watery light of dawn drips through the green of summer's finished canopy. She bids me away, promising of a new autumn a year from now. Of half-awake half-dreaming foot shuffles through the long grass. Of it wet with dew and strung with spiders' thread. The bunched, discarded underclothes soaked thrice through leaving thoughts of love-drunk giggles and hums and innocent joy convicted, of pensive sigh and private smile as their owner wanders homeward. Semi-dressed and semi-conscious in euphoric comedown. Yet as I descend from foothills, in mountains above, a woman of petite proportions shakes first snow from fur coat, her form filling so slow as flakes flutter to eyelashes and smile spreads on lips.