Jori - A Fairy Tale of Sorts Ch. 02

"I guess I've got a whole bunch of questions that I think you may be able to answer, starting with, just who the hell are you?"

"I am an old woman living alone in a dark and forbidding forest," she answered levelly. "It is my forest because I live in it. And I would say you are very lucky to have avoided an entanglement with the wolves. The wolves of Blackheart Forest can be very, very dangerous."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that out," he commented, refilling his tea. "So are you some kind of Healer? Or Nature Priest? Do you control the wolves, that they'd leave me alone if they smelled you on my clothes? I mean, really... what is going on?"

"I am none of those, Jori," she answered him, pouring another cup of tea. "I am not a Healer, although I have some ability to heal. I am not a Nature Priest, or Druid, although I do respect and venerate Nature in its many forms. I do not control the wolves -- no one does -- and I accord them the same respect I give the rest of the forest and its denizens. I strive to live in harmony with all about me and I seem to gain the same consideration in return, although it is not guaranteed."

"You are a very complicated woman, Mistress," Jori observed. "And despite your ability to work magic and become excruciatingly beautiful, a young woman beyond measure, it is you, old one, that I am attracted to... and I have no idea why. I have never felt better in my life than when I awoke with you in my arms this morning and I am confused. Every caution in my body rang in alarm that I should not stay, that I was falling under the influence of a Succubus or other fantastical monster. And yet, every step I took away from this hut echoed with the basic question, why? Why was I walking away from the best time I had ever known?"

"So I came back, looking for answers, mostly. But for another reason as well."

"Truly?" the old woman smiled, perhaps in condescension. "Are you sure you didn't come back looking for a young woman of inestimable beauty?"

"No, I honestly didn't come back looking for her," Jori told her and his words rang true. "I came back because you saved my life and I don't feel I've done nearly enough to repay you for your incredible generosity. You are the one I came back for. You are the one I need to square with -- to give back as much as you gave me."

"You already have, my Jori," she returned, her voice sinking to a softness, and almost nostalgic sigh. "Or do you not remember last night? You gave me what I truly needed and wanted."

"Well, I did a pretty piss-poor job of it," he stated, slight surprise registering in her expression. "I was pretty much immobilized and drugged up, and I can do a lot better than that to bring pleasure to a lover, and you deserve so much more than what you were able to harvest from me. I'd like to do a proper job, treat you the way you should have been treated, held and petted and kissed, all over your body. Not just having to hump a guy who could only lay there, in awe and disbelief."

She smiled her crooked smile again.

"Are you sure you are not looking for a certain, red-headed young woman?" she asked. "You are, after all, such a virile young man. An old virago like me can hardly be attractive."

"I am certain I am not looking for her," he bristled slightly, then relaxed. "Well, okay... maybe I am interested in seeing her again, but she isn't my main reason. I don't know why I am attracted to a woman old enough to be my grandmother's mother, but I am. There is something very special which draws me to you."

"Also, I was not being flippant when I said I need to pay you back the same as you did for me. I want to share pleasure with you, if that is what you want in return for your kindness. Or anything else you want."

"Including chopping wood, hauling water, tilling the garden?" she asked in a teasing tone.

"Including chopping wood, hauling water and tilling the garden," he answered seriously. "Is that what you would like me to do for you?"

"To be honest, it would be very helpful," she nodded. "It has been awhile since there has been anyone young and strong around to help with the chores."

"Fine," he decided. "So where's the axe?"

"With the woodpile," she smiled softly.

"And the woodpile?"

"Around the back of the tree, with the garden."

"And the water?"

"From the stream beyond the garden."

"Okay, let me know when it's dinner time. Or would you like me to cook for you as well? I am serious. Anything you want."

"I will take care of dinner, Jori," she continued to smile, then her expression grew serious. "You need not do anything for me, if you do not wish it. I do not require repayment, and even if I did, you already have."

"I wish it," he told her. "See you in a bit..." He walked back out the door and around to the back of the gigantic tree. He could now see the other features of the hut which had been hidden by its girth.

There was a stack of firewood, now very depleted, next to a stump with an axe in it. Beyond the stump was a pile of sectioned wood, waiting to be split and beyond that, several logs near a trestle with a saw resting atop it. Towards the woods from the woodpile was a fenced in garden, growing all manner of vegetables, and next to it a small orchard with apple, pear, plum and cherry trees and beyond them another clump of trees he recognized as sugar maples.

He figured the old woman's stream was some way into the woods beyond the maples. Altogether, she had a compact and varied supply of food, one a farmer could very much appreciate. But first things first. He walked to the woodpile, pulled off his leather tunic and hung it aside, then checked the axe. It was very sharp and ready to go, so he set about splitting the already sectioned wood and stacking it with the other split wood.

When he was done with that, he cut some more sections off the logs before heading back into the hut for something to haul water in. He spent the day doing the chores she had asked him to do and more, including mending the fence around her garden and unclogging a cistern located up in the tree which fed running rainwater to the old crone's kitchen. It was sunset by the time he was done, and he stopped to wash up before coming back into the hut, where savory scents beckoned to him.

"Please relax by the fire, Jori," she told him as he approached. "I will bring dinner in just a few minutes." So he did as he was told and went to the chair by the fire he was used to and waited. And watched.

Watched as the bent old crone slowly shuffled her way between the pot on the fire and other pots on her sideboard, occasionally stirring and tasting, or carving something he couldn't quite see, and always with a slow deliberateness which intrigued him. Like watching a broad old maple leaf, fallen in a stream, being carried along by the current but meandering into eddies and bumping off things, yet all the while showing the exquisite beauty of Nature in her simplest forms.

At last she was satisfied and brought a steaming bowl to set next to him, and one for her, returning in a few moments with plates for both of them, and utensils. His cursory glance revealed some form of meat stew with bread and greens and a bit of fruit. Nature in her simplest form. An uncomplicated meal, full of the bounty of this woman's forest. The stew was venison and it was delicious!

"If you don't mind my asking, Mistress," Jori ventured as the excellent dinner disappeared, "I can understand trapping for the rabbits... but how do you hunt deer? Not that you aren't far more than you seem, and... I would think a hunting bow beyond your strength."

"I do not hunt the deer, or the rabbits, my Jori," she smiled slightly as she ate. "You are right that I am too old for that sort of adventure. My only meat is that which the wolves will eat, and since they will not eat sentient flesh, I am all the more happy for it."

The wolves again, he thought as he regarded her anew. But she said she doesn't control them, that no one does.

"Then, um..." He wasn't sure he dared ask the question. "Then, how do you, um..."

"My simple needs are provided for me, my Jori. There are many wonders in and about the Forest, and those who dwell herein," she smiled again, almost sadly. "As long as I live here, my simple needs will be met."

Jori decided it would be a good time to keep his mouth shut and finish enjoying his dinner. As before, when they'd finished, he made himself useful clearing, washing and putting away the dishes. When he was done, she had resumed her knitting, sitting before the fire. He felt drawn to return to her.

"I guess maybe I'm like the cat," he told her as he sat back in "his" chair. "The one with nine lives and enough curiosity to go through them all."

"You find me puzzling," the old woman smiled. "That is because I am a puzzle... but one which can be solved if one has the patience and aptitude. You may ask whatever questions you like, but my words must always be circumspect and vaguely general. Do you have a head for puzzles, Jori? Do you think you can plumb the secrets of my existence?"

He suddenly decided to be daring. "I don't know about puzzles and secrets, Mistress," he told her, trying to use a lascivious tone, "but I know there is something about you that I would definitely like to plumb."

She laughed. A bit of an old crone's cackle, but still a laugh. "You are a wonderfully impertinent young man, my Jori!" she exclaimed. "I have not enjoyed company such as yours in a very long time."

"Perhaps you will allow me to enhance your enjoyment by sharing pleasure with you," he went on, determined to remain bold, though part of him was still afraid of her. "When I am not wounded and unable to do justice to your pleasure."

"What would you have me do, Jori?" she asked quietly, looking at him intently.

"I would have you disrobe and join me in your bed, and allow me to make love with you," he stated, fully aware of her penetrating gaze.

"Love?" she asked skeptically.

"Yes, love," he answered with conviction. "It does not matter the body you inhabit, you are a kind and gentle creature and deserve kindness and gentleness in return. You deserve to be treated as a close companion of long years, a lover with the most intimate shared knowledge. You deserve to be loved."

He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a ripple of strong emotion flow through her, though she did her best to remain neutral. She slowly rose from her chair and as he watched, hobbled her way over to the bed where she paused before stripping off her dress and climbing into the bed.

Jori didn't wait to be asked or told. He rose and walked over to her, taking off his clothes and sliding into the bed next to her. She lay passively, waiting for him to take the initiative.

He began by rolling up on his side next to her so that he could gaze into her sparkling blue-grey eyes. He knew, looking into their depths, that she was out of his league, but he was going to do his best to pleasure this woman, this person who had saved his life. He knew from her comments that something about the sex was a need for her, a need she could not ask to have fulfilled. Well, he was going to fill it, one way or another.

He slowly bent down and touched his lips to hers and he could feel the shudder run through her body at the soft warmth of it. He took his time and explored her mouth -- her lips, her tongue -- with his as her passion grew and his grew with it. The moment came when she was no longer passive, but equal in sharing her lust with him, returning his kiss as deeply. He held her to him as she snaked her arms around his neck, pressing her body back into him.

It seemed so odd that this frail little creature could have such a strong effect on him, but she did. He found kissing her lips not enough. He wanted more. More touch, more fantastic feelings coursing through his body from this unlikeliest of lovers. He let his hands drift from her face, to her neck and shoulders, gently stroking the aged and crackled skin, until he got to the little sacks she had left for breasts. Softly, slowly, he rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger and felt another shock run through her body at his touch. She was gently writhing against him now, moaning softly into his kisses as he played with her rock-hard points. He switched his weight to his other arm so that he could play with her other nipple without crushing her with his weight.

I'll bet this old bird is a lot tougher than she looks, he thought, gazing at her, her eyes now closed in whatever flights of fancy she was off to, her moans indicating her eager approval of his touch.

He let his hand wander down her belly to her mons, lightly brushing her skin and listening to her moan in pleasure as she pressed against him. Daring more, he slipped a finger between her nether lips, surprised to find that she was, indeed, a "juicy old crone." He'd heard the rumors as a boy that some women just dried up after they couldn't bear children anymore, and that others didn't. She was definitely in the "didn't" category.

He'd heard that some of the old Druidic priestesses controlled phenomenal sexual power, but this one had said she wasn't a Druid. She sure as hell wasn't a Nun! Sorceress, maybe, or maybe his original hunch -- a Succubus -- was right. Whatever she was, it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered right now was whether he could please her.

He cupped his hand on her mons, drawing his finger in slow circles around the little button his sister had shown him, the one that caused her so much pleasure when gently worshipped. Well, worshipped might not be the right word, but it was certainly how he saw paying that little jewel its appropriate attentions. He made sure to keep suckling this oddest of lovers -- this Lady Angelique -- while he repeatedly dipped his finger in her nectar and swirled it around her clito.

Renée had called it that. His sister had been far wiser about her body and its pleasure than he had been, about either of theirs actually. She knew that licking his cupule -- his "acorn" -- or more exactly, the bit of skin right below it she called his frenulum, would drive him crazy. She had done it, repeatedly, on purpose. And she'd shown him how to do it to her.

Maybe that would be a good thing to do, he thought as he mused on the things Renée had taught him. After all, my Lady is responding as Renée and Monique and Rachael did. They liked it. Maybe she will...

He eased up on his suckling and began to move his way down the old crone's body, taking the time to lick and pet the wrinkles on her belly and to run his hand softly over her aged skin. He slid down the bed, eventually moving between her thin thighs, easing them apart. Her skin was old and flabby, her labia hanging loosely, but Jori hardly noticed. It was her clito he was after.

He gently spread her lips, revealing the "juiciness" of the "juicy old crone." Her inner lips were very moist and her clito rather swollen up, proportionately. He lowered his mouth onto her, gently lapping at her foune, long slow strokes with his broad tongue, easing up towards her little jewel.

She responded well. In fact, she responded better than well, she responded with a loud moan and sigh that were pure pleasure and lifted her hips up to him, pushing her vulva into his face while her hands stole down into the hair on either side of his head.

She held him firmly in place as he made swirls around her button with his tongue, finally drawing it into his mouth and sucking on it while he continued to flick it with his tongue. It did not take long before she was writhing beneath his ministrations, her hips gyrating with her moans and her voice giving him soft encouragement.

"There, Jori, there..." she sighed as he could feel her passion mounting. "Mais oui, ma Jori! Tu me ravir beaucoup! Ah! Ma Jori..."

He decided to try the other very successful technique Renée had taught him. He lifted his chin to make room to slide first one, and then two fingers into the old woman. She was surprisingly supple and stretched to accommodate him easily. She was also sopping wet. As soon as his fingers entered, a flood of her essence poured out into the palm of his hand.

If she is that excited, he thought, maybe I'm doing something right...

"Oh, you most certainly are!" she told him as a shudder ripped through her frail old body. "If this is a natural talent, I am incredibly blessed! Otherwise, I would love to meet the woman who taught you."

He had forgotten she could read his mind.

He was about to say something when he decided that instead, he should keep his mouth on her pussy and start moving his fingers the way Renée had shown him. Kind of a "come hither" motion, rubbing the swollen lump he could feel inside her fourreau, in just a few inches and towards her belly.

He must have hit pay dirt.

"Oh, YES, Jori!!!" she moaned. "Oui, oui, OUI!!! Do not stop! Continuez comme ça! Please..."

He wasn't sure everything she said, but "yes," "do not stop" and "please" made it pretty plain. So he kept doing what he was doing and felt a buzz -- a kind of hum -- begin to fill the room. He also felt himself swelling, almost to bursting. He had been excited by the old woman and how she felt and sounded, and had already been erect. When the hum started, it became exquisite agony.

He was determined to ignore the demands of his own body. Come hell or high water, he was going to give Lady Angelique as much pleasure as she could possibly stand, just like she had done to him. He kept her clito in his mouth, sucking and flicking it, and his fingers in her chatte, firmly stroking that place Renée had no name for until at last, she erupted.

Grabbing his hair as if to tear his head off, she arched her back and cried out "Ah, Déesse, je jouis!!! Mon Dieu, Jori, tu fais moi jouir si dur!!!" She kept on moaning and crying out as her arching back fell, to be replaced by repeated, strong spasms ripping through her. Jori figured he wasn't hurting her because she wasn't trying to make him stop, so he kept going... but if this was cumming, it was stronger than anything he had ever known before, including her riding him the night before.

Out of curiosity, he wetted another finger with her copious juices and stuck it up her arse. It had been another thing that Renée and Monique and Rachael had liked.

So, apparently, did Lady Angelique.

"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!" she cried out as she thrashed against him. "Je jouis encore! Encore! Ah, Déesse, encore..." Her voice was getting a little raspy and she was weakening a little, when she caught him completely by surprise.

Beneath his lips and tongue and fingers and arms, she began to change. Her skin was tightening up, becoming firmer. Her muscles were filling out, she was gaining womanly curves, fattening up. She broke him out of his fascination when she muttered, "De nouveau, Jori... de nouveau, si tu souhaite voir la rousse..."

"What?" he asked, not understanding and till amazed at the changes happening beneath him.

"Again, Jori," this much younger woman now smiled at him. "If you would like to see the redhead..."

That, he understood. Make her cum again. Not a problem.

He returned his attention to the task at hand... and mouth.

Her labia were fuller and more swollen now, and her clito was larger and standing up more. Easy targets. He went back to fingering her while sucking on her and putting a finger in her anus. It did not take long.

"Ah, Jori, Jori, Jori!" she cried out as once more she arched up against him, hard. "Je jouis encore! Je jouis si dur!"

And as she settled down into the aftermath of the spasms that wracked her body, she began to transform once more, growing younger again right in Jori's hands. He had long since stopped being afraid of these changes. Now he was more delighted to see and feel her shift. The woman he had been pleasuring had appeared in her 50's... beyond childbearing but still healthy. Now she shifted to a form more like the woman in her 30's from the night before, the red mane flowing around her on the bed.