Suddenly, a pair of strong callused hands lightly brush against my bare arms, making me jump and spin around with a surprised yelp. The boy who stands in front of me I recognized from the bonfire, he had been one of the ones who had danced with me in the heat of the fire. His pale skin gleamed in what moonlight was filtered through the trees, stretched over his broad and muscular body. He had a mass of curly brown locks that stuck to his forehead with sweat. His emerald green eyes roamed across my body and I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. Eventually my eyes begin to explore his muscular body, admiring the defined arms and legs that must have come from all the years of farming.
We stand there for what seems like an eternity, just assessing each other, waiting to see who will make the first move. He is the one to take a step closer to me, eventually backing me against a tree, the bark poking at my bare back. My heart pounds hard as our naked bodies press against one another. His strong muscles are warm against my skin that had grown cold in the open evening air. I can smell the earth and sweat in him as his hands trail along my lean naked body. Our lips connect in a rough and awkward kiss. His lips are soft and we soon fall into a natural rhythm as if our lips were dancing in time to the drums that had played at the fire dance.
I can’t say how long we stood there, bodies pressed together, lips locked in passionate kisses, until he lay me softly down on the ground. My body knew what time it was and I couldn’t help but quiver with thrill and anxiousness. The boy could see in my eyes that this was my first time A-Maying and was kind enough to take it slow with me. I take in a deep breath and close my eyes as I feel something hard and wide slide inside of me. Pain and pleasure bombard my sensations, and I let out a strange noise that combines both emotions. The boy does not stop and keeps slowly pushing inside of me, noises still pouring from my mouth. Eventually, the pain subsides and pleasure takes hold of my body, the noises now illustrating the pleasure I was experiencing.
The boy continues for what could have been an eternity, my body writhing in pleasure as he continues. It eventually comes to a stop. Now finished with me, he stands and helps me up. My legs are shaking, and I nearly collapse onto him; thank the goddess that his strong arms help stabilize me. The world is spinning slightly, my chest heaving from the exertion and heart rate pounding against my rib cage threatening to break free from the bones that held it there.
When my body recovers the boy leaves my side, in search of other ladies that roam the forest. I am alone again. The moon is still high in the sky, telling me it is going to be a while longer until the sun rises again. Feeling exhausted, I trudge through the forest my footsteps heavier than before. My wandering feet take me to the spot that I like to sit and watch the stream flow after it rains.
The large flat rock welcomes me as I take a seat down on it, warmth still trapped in its surface from the long faded sunlight. The stream murmurs to me as it twinkles, seeming to ask me how it was to be A-maying on this wonderful Beltane. I smile back to it, reclining back against the sturdy maple that grew along the bank. Its rough bark scrapes against my back, but I don’t care.
From somewhere in the forest, I can hear a soft tinkling of bells. The Queen of Faeries must be riding through the woods on her grand white horse again. I wonder to myself if any boys were going to be taken back to the Faeryland this year. Last year two boys were whisked away by the Queen, but we’re used to it by now. They never seem to learn that you shouldn’t look at the face of the Queen.
Small balls of light appear in the air around me, and I know the faeries must be nearby. Those mischievous little winged creatures were always playing pranks on people; I was no exception. It seemed like I was always one of their favorite targets. They’ve bitten me, doused me in water several times, and even made my skin turn a different color for a day. It’s embarrassing having everyone laugh at me just because I was the butt of one of the faerie’s jokes. In desperation, I wore steel jewelry one year to keep them away from me, but they were taken away by my mother. She said it was disrespectful to wear jewelry that was poisonous to them on the night of their return and that if I did it again the Queen of Faeries would punish me. I refuse to be part of their mischievous tricks like in past years and leave swiftly, my short legs taking me away from the colorful lights as fast as they can. Hopefully, they’ll find a new target this year and leave me alone.
I stumble through the forest, my legs growing weary and my feet numb, wanting to go home to my warm and cozy bed. I’ve had enough A-Maying for my first time. Somehow, my feet guide me home, my mind in that dull zone I find myself when I am tired.
The door had been left unlocked in case I came home in the middle of the night and I quietly sneak back the dark hallway to my room, my eyes used to the darkness. A nightdress was lain out on my bed; I gratefully slip it over my head and slide under my sheets. Tomorrow morning I would cleanse myself of the dirt and stench in the traditional dew washings. My eyes flutter close as I sink into my pillow and drift off to sleep.