Kizz & Tell is a combination of item #17 on my Life List (Develop an erotic fiction web site) and a continuation of the G-spot column I used to write at The Women's Colony. From fantasies to frank discussion I'm just trying to re-create a really great conversation with your friends. I hope you'll join in!

Friday, October 29, 2010




Honestly, you’d think that at my age I wouldn’t be surprised at the foolish shit I find myself doing. I’m old enough to say no or even to lie my way politely out of things when I know they aren’t my cup of tea. Yet here I am wandering around in the dense undergrowth of a National Park in the Pacific Northwest looking for a port-o-potty.

I should probably back up.
My college roommate, Siobhan, moved to the wilds of Oregon about ten years ago. Her husband is a Park Ranger and that’s where he was assigned. Since she was married in her home town of St. Louis I’d never visited the new home. A conference brought me out to Portland and I figured it’d be pretty rude of me not to try and get together. If I was already traveling all that way from Baltimore what was another couple hundred miles? When I heard how excited she was that I’d be coming I felt pretty good about myself. I might even have bordered on the smug. I’m an idiot.

A week before my trip she calls me up. “Hey, just wanted to give you a heads up that the night you’re coming to visit is our big Halloween party. A whole bunch of us get together in a local park, we wear costumes, there’s great food and wine. You’ll love it! So pack a costume!”

Somehow, I didn’t manage to reschedule the visit. Never once did I hear myself say, “You know what, that’s just not me.” even though I was thinking it so hard I think I strained my cerebellum. The best I could do, apparently, was to negotiate my way out of bringing my own costume. It turns out that Siobhan had an extensive costume closet and she’d find something perfect for me.

As ridiculous as the whole evening felt, especially while negotiating a portable toilet on the edge of a forest, I had to admit she had found something perfect. I’m not much for elaborate fantasies but when I do find my mind wandering it’s always to the ancient Greeks. Siobhan had a flowing Grecian dress in ice blue with a little gold detailing and a sparely designed feather mask that covered my eyes and nose and dressed up my hair. She’d pulled that up loosely so it wasn’t overpowered by the feathers, slapped some lipstick on me, tossed over a pair of the most comfortable sandals I’ve ever worn in my life and called me done. I felt gorgeous. Then I felt ridiculous for feeling that way.

Coming out of the port-o-john I had the dress unattractively bunched around my thighs. I didn’t want the light fabric swishing bathroom floor filth onto my ankles for the rest of the night. I tried to shake it out while reaching up for my drink, stashed in the crook of a tree.

“That’s fucking brilliant.” a quiet voice behind me observed.

I jumped, “Whoa, didn’t know anyone was out here.”

“Sorry, I’ve got these super soft boots on. I forget how silent they are.” she explained. The boots in question were ankle height and suede with a gently pointed toe and flat heel. I’d have been tempted to steal them but they went perfectly with her Robin Hood costume. It actually had a hood on the cape in addition to the mask so I couldn’t even tell what her hair was like.

“No worries,” I reassured. “I’m just not from around here. Not used to all the...nature.”

“It does take some acclimating, I suppose. If you need an escort back to the festivities I’d be happy to help you.”

I’d gotten here on my own. I could get back just fine. “That would be nice.” I accepted.

“Just let me do what I came to do, won’t be a minute.”

“Can I hold your drink?”

“Nah,” she demurred, “I’ll just put it here.” With that she walked right up to me, standing near enough to touch, and reached up into the crook of that tree to set her drink down. I could feel her breath on my neck she was so close. “Be right back.” she whispered in my ear.

I sipped my locally grown organic wine from its compostable cup and thought about just sneaking away. Before I could decide how rude that might be she was back. My nerves made me step away so she could reach her drink without touching me.

“Wow, that was quick.”

“Secret weapon,” she smirked, lifting the hem of her tunic enough to show me that what I had thought were leggings were actually thigh high tights.

“Brilliant? Body glue?”

“Little bit, it might get chilly later. Shall we?” Robin Hood gestured toward the party and I fell into step with her. We walked quietly for a hundred feet or so, breaking through the tree line with a growing sense of companionship. When I could see the party, though, my fingers tensed on my cup and I stopped walking.

“You OK?” she asked.

“Yeah. I just...don’t really feel like heading back. I was kind of using the bathroom run as a time out.”

“Ah the party time out. That’s a favorite of mine. Were you very naughty to deserve one?” she smiled when she said it and her eyes actually sparkled. That’s total bullshit, who has eyes that really sparkle? Sparkling eyes are a movie trick.

“Not yet.” Huh, so I guess along with the sparkling eyes the whole mouth with a mind of its own thing is real, too. That was a new one on me!

Robin Hood took a breath and pivoted her body back toward the flickering torches ringing the party space for a moment. Cocking her head she spoke low but clear, “Would you like to be?”

I laughed, although it was more of an accidental snort, and she took a step forward, her shoulders squared away from me. I opened my mouth to speak, choked on my own tongue for a second and finally got out, “What did you have in mind?”

“Seriously?” she demanded.

I swallowed hard, “Yes.”

She held a hand out and I took it. From there we took a different path back into the trees. Visions swam in my head of Sherwood Forest with shelters made of branches and hideouts camouflaged beneath leaf-covered rocks.

A minute later we arrived at a picnic table. The ground around it was littered with matches, rolling papers, beer cans and hamburger wrappers. Not a merry man in sight, though. Gently sweeping some of the debris out of the way with those fabulous boots my Robin Hood hopped up to sit on the table top, pulling me carefully forward. Keeping me close with the pressure of her knees on my hips she reached up to pull back the voluminous hood.

“Don’t...” I started.

“Just the hood.” she assured me.

I helped her smooth it back the rest of the way. Her hair turned out to be thick and not quite curly, more deeply waved. It hung just below her shoulders and had been pulled off her face with a head band. It might have been brown or auburn but I couldn’t make out specifics in the moonlight. Fortunately I could sink my hands in it and feel it sliding silkily over my fingers.

“Mmmmm, nice,” she encouraged, tilting her head back slightly. When I leaned over to run my fingers right to the ends of her locks she was in a perfect position to kiss my neck. She didn’t, though, she licked it. Short little strokes like a cat lapping up milk. It tickled in the most delightful way. I kept working with my hands but tipped my neck off to the side to give her more canvas.

Suddenly she bit down, hard, right near my collar bone. I yelped and felt her chuckle a moment before she sucked the bite. I smoothed my hands along her shoulders and enjoyed the feel of her bare skin all warm from the cloak. Her tunic had short sleeves and wide arm holes that invited my inquisitive little fingers in.

Meanwhile she was moving lower to take advantage of the deep neckline of my dress. I’ve always been impatient and had wormed my way under what felt like a camisole to home right in on one of her nipples. It was only beginning to harden so I ran a fingernail over it, a little harder than was perhaps polite. She twitched ever so slightly but didn’t stop me so I started in from the other side.

She did, however, take that as permission to up the ante. She hooked just a finger into one side of the casually pleated bodice of my gown and pulled it aside. Then she licked my breast in one wide stripe across the nipple and pulled back to watch it harden. Moving back took her out of my reach so we both watched. I could have cut glass and it felt fantastic. So I pulled the other half aside.

“Do it again.” I commanded.

She quirked an eyebrow at me.


She obliged.

Somehow that centered my brain just a bit and I remembered the not-leggings. Bending a little to one side I grasped the bottom of Ms. Hood’s tunic and raised it, tucking the hem into her belt.

“So that’s the real secret, eh?” I asked. She wasn’t wearing any underwear. I pressed her shoulder a little to get her to lean back. She tossed a look behind her just to make sure there wasn’t anything dangerous back there and propped herself up on her hands.

At first I just lay one hand on each thigh. I wanted to feel how warm they were. Then I pressed them open and tried to move out of the way of the light to see what she was offering. Her hair was closely trimmed and formed into a  comfortably wide triangle. I could see the lips of her.

Stepping closer I hovered over Robin Hood, face to face with my hands still calm on her thighs. Her chin tilted up a little but I think it was instinctive rather than a choice. I brushed my nose against hers, sniffed her neck and finally kissed her. Our closed mouths melted together until she reached up and grabbed the back of my head. That was the signal to open and taste more deeply. The way she pulled challenged my balance, so as I shifted to one foot I palmed her between the legs almost to catch myself before I fell over.

She was sizzling hot but still unopened. As she traced my lips with her tongue I drew my hand upward, dipping my middle finger into the folds below. It came out wet just at the tip. “Mmrr,” I heard her say.

Pulling back a fraction of an inch I asked, “What?”

“More!” and her legs opened wide.

Down again and then up I let that middle finger sink in enough to release the juices from her. Now I could rub them up and down, making her deliciously slippery and coaxing her clitoris from its hood.

“Oh!” I exclaimed.

Everything stopped.

“You OK?” she asked as I swore.

“Hang on, sorry.” I had to scramble in a very unladylike way to haul all the folds and flutters of that stupid dress up and get to my cell phone, vibrating in a holster on my thigh. “Hello? Hello?” I was breathless.

“Oh no, it’s OK, I’m fine Siobhan.”

Robin Hood wasn’t moving, she just watched me.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“No, I did go to the bathroom but there...was a line and I got to...talking to someone,” that eyebrow raised in my direction again, “and I just didn’t realize I’d been gone so long.”

“I’ll be back soon, promise. Just want to wrap things up here.”

Hood giggled. It was cuter than I thought it would be.

“I am, Siobhan, honest. I am.”

I hung up and stared at the artfully disheveled party girl before me.

She smiled indulgently. I smiled back, more embarrassed than anything. “My friend. She brought me here. This is her dress actually. I’m just visiting fro...”

“You are what?”

“Visiting, I said, sorry...”

“No, you told her ‘I am, honest, I am.’ You are what?”

“Oh,” I looked down at my phone. I had to look at Ms. Hood to tell her, though, “She asked if I was having a good time.”

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