Chapter 4: Le Rocher de St-Agnes

She has been here for a week now and she is no longer startled when I lay a hand unexpectedly on her shoulder or hip. Our ritual of ‘petit déjeuner à nue’ [naked breakfast] has grown into the whole day naked, to the great delight of little Desi.

This morning she is gazing in thought at the mountains in the distance. I stand behind her and place my hands on her hips. A small sigh escapes her as I slip onto her belly and from there wander up to the base of her breasts.

“Onward” she says softly and as the not-so-small Desi searches for a spot in her butt crack, I slowly encompass both her c-mounts, until the sides of my index fingers touch her large nipples. My first time! Do I dare to kiss her on the neck? Or is that not an issue yet? She does wriggle her buttocks and I feel my lower belly yearn. She turns around, clasps me against her belly and breasts, kisses me on the mouth “Enough, like that” and smiles with big white teeth.

I worry about her, Diane sleeps restlessly and always has that brooding look on her face. She does laugh at my odd behavior, but she seemingly can’t really get away from the threats she has escaped. Maybe the earth forces should help her.

I know a place, near here, in a forest, where it is said, that your soul is given relieve.

They are rocks, on the edge of a steep slope, round and feminine with ancient oaks in the gullies and fractures. Their thick roots lie like veins across the rocks, like veins on my own rod, in supreme ecstasy. The highest stone is a woman on her belly, showing her buttocks. The middle stone is flat on top and a bit lower. This is said to be a druidic spot, where couples have been promising each other fidelity for thousands of years. In good Christian tradition, this place is dedicated to St Agnes, patron of betrotheds. Her merit was that she did not want to become a temple prostitute. So chastity and abstinence in public was her death.

I have often sat there alone lately, sitting on the edge of the highest stone looking down into the depths. And whether it was the stones, the green filtered forest light or the wind, I felt peace come over me and something of acceptance of the now.

“I am going to take you to a special place, where the earth will bring you peace” I say while parking the car near a forest path. The evening light filters green and a little wind rustles through the foliage. She takes my hand, that’s new.

I tell her of the druids, the virgin sacrifices and the local tradition, children still, who give each other their virginity on the high stone and lovers who give their love to each other here. For thousands of years. “How many children would have been conceived here?”

Getting close, she shivers softly. “I feel the magic of this place! Oh, yaaah!”

“Are you cumming?” I joke.

“Something like that, yes, but with my whole body!” She walks up the low stone and embraces the wooden cross,.Low in her throat she growls orgasmically ... She sees the high stone, throws her flimsy nothing over her head, slips out of her panties and lies naked, full stretched out on the stone, like an offering on an altar. Softly she moans her ecstasy. Minutes later, she looks me straight in the eye “What is the name of this god?”

I feel a fierce desire as I finally see her in naked ecstasy. She spreads to me and her glossy, dark lips frame her pink boat, clit like mast up. She has poured her moisture onto the stone, offering to this god.