Alpine Hideaway Magic Ch. 06

She seized my face up in both her hands and pulled my mouth to hers. I leaned into the kiss and my hands came up to pinch and tweak at her breasts. After several seconds my aunt pulled away from me and asked,

"What would you like Stephan?"

"I want your ass Tante!" I said in a voice that even surprised me for its huskiness and its ardor. My confidence in my new skin (and my new role), was much stronger now. I was the ram; the head billy goat in the barnyard, and I wanted a female arse! I just happened to have one available at arms reach!

Tante Margarite nodded and gave me a breathless "Ja" as she spun around and gripped the sides of the tub. She jutted her arse out to the water in a bent-over crouched position. The tattoos on her back rippled with countless lustful scenes of debauchery and hedonism... too numerous to count! I seized up my cock in my hand, which felt like veiny stone and pushed the mushroom head against her anus. I grabbed my aunt by the hips and sank myself in up to the hilt as she gasped with a heartfelt shout of AAAAGGGGHHHH OOOOHHHH STEPHAN YESSS!

We fucked. It was a torrid nasty wonderful fuck under the Alpine stars with the high mountain peaks towering above us in the cool night. We were both moaning and grunting in rude bestial pleasure when my Oma stepped back into the tub with three mugs in her hands. Tante Margarite and stopped our rectal rutting for a moment but were met by protest by my grandmother.

"Oh don't stop on my account," she said, "I want to watch you both thrash like two wild beasts. Take these beers, they are guaranteed to toss fuel on that raging lust-fire you're feeling!" With that she passed us both a stein-mug and then sat back at her edge of the tub, sipping from her mug and beginning to rub herself between her legs and across her breasts.

Tante continued to bend over the edge of the tub and she wiggled her arse against me as if telling me to "get started again." We continued to rump-rut; Tante Margarite with her beer in her hand, taking sips now and then and me behind her, plowing my shaft deep into her gut as her tattoos danced and flew across her back!

"But Oma," I asked in-between deep strokes of my aunt's ass, "with the beer, how did you... I mean it takes weeks to...?" Oma cut me off interrupting and rolling her eyes.

"Stephan," she said with a chuckle, "if I can make a glass of water from an ice cold mountain stream become beer with one tap of a finger, I can most certainly make mushroom beer in short order from properly mixed ingredients that I prepared on and brewed on the top of a stove!"

"A lager spell UUNNNGGHH," my aunt grunted with my cock up inside her entrails as her own free hand now fiddled her sex, "its... a lager spell!"

"That's right," Oma said happily as she watched us, "I put a spell on one of the kegs to 'speed things up a bit faster.' Really all the spell does is make the brew rot at a faster rate. The spell is a country-cousin to those black spells that witches would cast to make crops fail or cattle die in the dark ages. Just like you can heal with a spell you can make things wither and die."

I nodded and took a sip in-between thrusts of my aunt's arse. It was beer alright! What's more, it made my cock which was already tilling my aunt's guts seem to snarl and rage (as a new even more powerful sexual energy and hunger seemed to well up from my loins)! Tante Margarite seemed to feel something too, and she slammed her haunches back upon me with each stroke; oblivious to any discomfort that might be inflicted upon her poor bottom! It was as if she had become lost in her own pure selfish carnal needs and pleasure had completely overridden pain for her!

"It is the spell of the mushrooms upon your senses," Oma observed as she feverishly rubbed between her own legs below the water, " you'll be able to spout your balls empty in her and then your cock will be hard as iron afterwards - watch and see!"

The old woman was right. In three minutes my aunt and I rutted our way to a screaming crescendo where I showered her insides with hot seed and she sobbed for joy; only to find that my cock was stiff and rigid as a hard stick of pine and ready to go immediately! I pulled out of my aunt and turned to my grandmother; spinning Oma around to render her the same torrid hard fuck in the arse that her daughter had just enjoyed! Oma screamed and urged me on shouting,

"Yes Stephan my lover ...take me and split me like a piece of firewood! AAGGHHHH!"

We fucked for several minutes in the tub as Tante Margarite rubbed herself in a lustful frenzy next to us. When at last I felt my seed rise from my loins I grunted and pushed into Oma's bottom hard; filling her with hot semen as she howled and screamed through her own crescendo! We were not done though... oh no! Not at all!

My cock still raged thanks to the mushroom beer (which we replenished our mugs with almost immediately)! We were in a complete sexual frenzy now as I remember. We three raced into the hut, swilling down our mugs upon arriving inside the kitchen. There was now carnal excitement sizzling through the air like electricity during a violent storm. Something was in the very wind and sky that night... and it was not just that we were now mad with the mushroom-beer ardor!

Oma had the presence of mind to retrieve the small keg of that wonderful lust-inspiring brew before we entered the house and as soon as our mugs were empty she filled them in between fits of horny giggles! As we were gulped from our mugs, she mentioned that tonight was the feast of Walpurgis, or Walpurgisnacht. It was also called Hexennacht or "night of the witches."

I knew what it was or thought I knew; since as a boy it had been a time to stay up as people lit bonfires all over Germany and "frightened away the spirits winter." There was food and parties and the like; making the whole affair sort of a loud picnic at night! What I didn't know was that it was more!

Oma explained that it was also for witches, a night of power. In the past on this night, great revelries had taken place in central Germany; up on Brocken mountain by hundreds of witches but none had taken place since the war had begun, (as it simply hand not been safe for "our kind," to assemble). Brocken mountain hadn't been used for a proper gathering for at least the last eight years and magic and healing had been localized or forced underground

It didn't matter now to us however. We were going to celebrate right there in the hut and in what better way, than to jump into bed and rut and fuck with reckless lustful abandon! We were fueled by a brew that was guaranteed to keep us from losing our ardor for many hours and the sheets were clean! Oma made the suggestion and Margarite and I nodded enthusiastically! We raced up the stares and flung ourselves upon the bed in a heap of snarling, groping, sucking, fingering, biting, fucking, furball of naked flesh!

I lost track of how many times I came inside those two sex-crazed women. I lost track of time as well. All I could remember is looking up at one point and seeing flashes of lightning outside our window; as the energy released by our frantic copulating had now whipped the heavens into a frenzy above our mountain! I heard crashes of thunder and saw brilliant electrical discharges as we continued to rut and fuck; kicking the bedclothes to the floor until there was merely a bare mattress and our three humping naked bodies atop it. We kept going and going and going; until at last after one particularly loud orgasmic release (where I thought the three of us would have brought the whole mountain down), my Oma raised her hand - bidding us to stop!

There was a stillness outside and Oma was looking up at the ceiling as though listening and sniffing for something that had disturbed or alerted her. Margarite looked up as well and seemed to be intently trying to detect something. Oma's facial expression changed from seriousness to exhilieration and she leaped from the bed an raced down the stairs; Tante Margarite close on her heels! I lay in a puddle of my own seed and the piddle-spendings from the two women; bewildered at the sudden change of plans. Nonetheless I got to my feet and hurried down the stairs to see what was happening.

I found Oma and Tante Margarite standing outside, staring at the night sky to the west above one of the high peaks. Their naked bodies hopped up and down excitedly and they pointed joyfully at something up in the blackness and stars that I simply could not make out. I stood next to the two women and asked what all the excitement was for.

"Keep watching Stephan," Oma replied happily. Out of the night sky I could now see several dark shapes. They were approaching us from over mountains at a very high rate of speed.

At first I wondered if we were safe. Could it be Allied aircraft? Should we run? I then realized there was no sound to be heard; no drone of engines - all quite strange! As the shapes broke over the tree-line at the far end of the alpine meadow I saw... legs? There were legs dangling down from the shapes and as they came closer I realized that I was now seeing at several witches; at least a dozen in all, circling our field and preparing to slow down to land.

Not ten seconds later they swooped in from the night sky; naked as the day they were born, and landed before us. Oma and Margarite stepped forward to see who it was and I walked behind them, feeling slightly apprehensive. Oma recognized the leader as she stepped from her broom and she flung her arms around the tall blonde woman who appeared to be in her late fifties or early sixties,

"ISOLDE! It's YOU! Its' YOU GIRL! Oh how are you?" Oma shouted jubilantly.

"I'm well Hilde," she said seriously enough but returning my grandmother's embrace. Oma looked at her face and saw that something serious was a foot as the tall blonde witch explained,

"We saw the flashes of light and fire in the sky above this mountain as we were traveling. We suspected it was you up here on the mountain. We wanted to find youl Now we have and at just the right time!"

"But why are you..?" Oma started to ask but she was interrupted by Isolde with,

"There is a witches gathering and it is of great importance. The fact that it happens on the night of power is only all the more critical! There is a great opportunity that all witches who have survived this terrible war must seize upon immediately. We would travel to Brocken Mountain for a proper gathering but it perhaps is not safe... we are therefore heading south and east along this range to the older meeting place at the Lattengebirge mountains...we are going to the mountains of the sleeping witch."

"But why," Oma asked,"would you go there? We havent used those mountains for a gathering place since before the Inquisition! What has happened?" The old blonde woman with her icy blue eyes looked at my grandmother with stone cold seriousness. I can still remember her words from that night in the cool night air as they came from her lips,

"Hitler is dead! We are collectively using all our power for something good. It is time to heal the land and the people after this dark time!"