The Festival of Shooting Stars

The old woman calmly watched him as he went by. Then she looked back at Ran. "Three is good. Today is the third day of the festival, so you're right on time. I have a feeling that you're going to make it."

Ran picked at her hair and gave a bashful grin. "Thank you. I'm trying."

The woman beamed with world-worn benevolence. "I think I always made it if I had three at this point. Although this year is going even better." She pointed at one of the men playing dice next to her. "After he loses, he'll want consolation, and this is how I'll get my fifth."

"I am winning, woman!"

She raised her eyebrows and rubbed her forehead. "He's playing uninterested for about the fiftieth straight year. Oh well." She looked to the entrance, where Iden was holding the door and swaying from foot to foot. "Hun, you need to run along, or that poor boy is going to overheat."

The clouds took on a creamy hue; above the village's rooftops, the sun's slanting rays caught the polished roof tiles of the Copper Hall, reflecting the light into Iden's eyes. Evening was approaching.

Ran got to him and wrapped her arm around his waist, now completely at ease with him. This inn was one of the last buildings of the village, and in front of them the lake spread wide. The main street was taking a right turn towards the village's small harbour. To the left, a lesser trail was leading off into the forest. They exchanged a quick eager look and started for the woods.

A sparse grove of ancient, massive pines grew on the village's edge. The trees were overgrown with moss and decked out with a kaleidoscopic mayhem of flags and lanterns, and they covered the ground with a chequered shadow. Late summer grass, long, tawny, and heavy-headed, was rippling in the breeze. There was some unusual, peaceful feeling about this place. Ran noted that along the path small stone carvings of humans and animals were occasionally poking out of the grass, some clean and new, most very old covered in lichens. Then she noticed, surprised, that among the pines stood a large building, hexagonal and with a gently slanting double roof. She stopped.

"What is that?" she asked.

"That's the shrine to the Shimmering Ones," he answered. He took a few more steps forward before he noticed that she was no longer following.

The shrine's timber walls were light grey in the gentle sunlight. It rested on a stone foundation which formed a narrow porch around it, a little unusual in the wood-built Kontaria. Large, latticed square windows took up much of each of its walls. A circle of rocks encircled it like a moat, tall grass and square stone censers rising up among them. The whole place, this entire grove, was at once neat and immaculate and wild and natural, combining all those things with an easy grace. On the porch were a number of people, mostly in couples, engaged in quiet conversation.

Iden was again at Ran's side. He leaned down to her with a smile.

"Do you want to go in? We don't have to do anything, we can just take a look and leave."

"Would that be okay?" The corners of her mouth curled sideways. Her curiosity was definitely overtaking her apprehension.

"Sure. In there, you must only do what you feel like." He placed his hand on her lower back. She glanced at him, and took a step forward.

They passed under a vermilion painted wooden arch. On a flat rock beyond it a shaman was sitting, not paying them much attention, feeding an egg to a copper-coloured snake resting around his shoulders. Between the arch and the shrine the trail was paved, with the same ancient and lichen-covered stone that the statues were made of. Three shallow steps were leading up to the entrance; a few glances flew their way from the porch, but nobody here paid them much attention, either. There was no door, just a curtain of heavy cloth. Beside it, some pairs of shoes were neatly propped up against the wall.

Ran and Iden joined theirs to the array, and stood barefoot on the warm stone. Ran paused. Iden shot her his best carefree glance, pulled the curtain to the side, and entered. Ran took a quick look around, hunched, and followed him in.

All of the shrine's windows were covered with orange drapes, and the inside was bathed in orange light. This is the first thing you notice when you go in; the first things you sense are the delicate scent of incense and the snug heat, both arising from the broad stone bowl full of smouldering embers in the middle of the room -- the shrine's central flame. Above the bowl, the flat stone altar; on the wall above the altar, the gnarled spirit tree; under the walls, the people.

There were about a dozen of them, all in couples -- except for a threesome huddled together opposite of the entrance. All were naked, their clothes either folded or discarded in heaps by them. By an unspoken agreement, they had all taken their places in the corners of the hexagon. All corners thus taken, by the same unspoken agreement it was up to Ran and Iden to do the next best thing and take their place in the middle of a wall; with each wall being about fifteen feet wide, this still left enough personal space to everyone to do with it as they pleased.

He put his hand on her shoulder and guided her gently, to a wall on their left. There he sat down and invited her to take her place in front of him, between his knees. She did so and rested with her back to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, rested his chin by her neck, and waited. Desire for her weighed down his breath, and his cock ached, eager and ready yet restrained by his clothes. But there was still a rigidness to her; though her adventurous side clearly got the best of her, she still felt out of place here, uncertain. She needed a little time to tame this site.

She knew the basic etiquette of a shrine like this -- you were welcome to look, just not to stare. Each couple -- or group -- gathered here was focused deeply on itself, and was not to be disturbed, but there was a definitive sense of togetherness spilling out among all of them, a common sharing of their inner experience, eye contact made at surprising moments, sounds made for all to hear. Ran watched.

Thick hempen ropes were hanging in bends from the ceiling, and from them, of course, hung many-coloured flags -- though in this light, they were all orange. Immediately to the right of the entrance, the couple in that corner were enjoying a slow and thorough make-out session, the girl splayed on top of her lover, her inner thighs slopped with his cum, his fingers dug in her short black hair. The two next to them were similarly engaged, the guy covering his girl's breasts with hungry kisses; his hard cock made it clear that they, in turn, were in foreplay rather than in afterglow. If the festival was all about women ensuring their luck, then the two kissing boys across the room were clearly not here on festival business; but for balance, the two women on Ran's left had worked at double the usual efficiency, and it looked like they now dozed off in each other's arms, lulled by the shrine's warm comfort. In another corner, a spectacularly freckled gal propped her man up against the wall, kneeled in front of him, and was now teasing him with kisses all around his stomach, as his cock was brushing unattended against her neck; the boy and the two girls nearby were chattering, quiet but animated, discussing something close together in their tiny community. Finally, there were the two people immediately to Ran's right, and they were full in the act -- the woman, a splendid Kontarian beauty, was on her knees and elbows, her cheek against the floor, her brown hair flowing on the smooth boards; the man's lips were pressed to her neck, and his body to hers; the shaft of his cock glistened whenever he leaned back, slowly, on an outward thrust; their fitful moans carried around the shrine.

Ran felt a thin sheen of sweat form on her skin. The heat of this place, of coals and of summer and of humans, matched the heat that was within her, and they were both inviting her to take off her clothes, to set her body free. She shifted a little. The flat slab of the altar -- on which you could climb if you really wanted to show yourself off -- stood, peacefully, in the middle of the room. And on the wall opposite of the entrance, between the giggling trio and the girl who finally stopped teasing her lover and took him in her mouth -- there, on the wall, was the wooden god.

It wasn't a carved statue. It was a raw, twisted, tangled piece of an ancient oak, an oak that had been growing out of this soil for centuries, drinking deep from its water and soaking in its sun, until one day it finally collapsed under its own immenseness. In the coiling shadows of this wood, they said, you could sometimes glimpse an ever-changing face, face of a nameless shimmering spirit, a benevolent, overwhelming entity in whose domain they were now all guests. Ran looked on, and for a briefest moment she thought that she caught something looking back, in two black crevices in that hard, primal matter; and suddenly she felt encompassed, taken over by a reassuring force, and it was Iden's arms around her shoulders, his legs around her hips, his cock throbbing against her back, his patient breath rising and falling, the scented air flowing through his chest.

"Iden..." she turned to him, and there was the unmistakable look in her grey eyes, the unmistakable curve to her smile, and her voice carried a hint of laughter and an excited urgency. "Iden, let's do it here."

Blood rushed through him, and his insides did a little jubilant leap. He returned her smile and kissed her. He ran his hand through her hair, and his fingers were lightly shaking, his whole body tingling with a pent-up sexual energy. On the altar, free for anyone's use, were large, greyish sheets of pressed wideleaf[1], a soft, supple and absorbent material, ideal for spilling yourself over. He went to snatch one and promptly returned to her, spreading the sheet on the floor. She knelt up and looked around the shrine one more time, catching one or two gazes in the process. She tried to say something, but an agitated guffaw checked her throat. She grabbed her shirt with both hands, and yanked at it several times.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she managed finally, and took it off.

The black cloth was still around her eyes and wrists when she felt Iden grab her round the waist, push her firm against the wall, and press his lips to her skin. She freed herself from the shirt and sat still for a moment, her hands above her head, her hair everywhere in her sight, Iden's impassioned kisses making their way down her breastbone.

Her chest had been on his mind ever since she'd flashed him in the street, and now finally he got to indulge in it. He grabbed at her right breast and squeezed it, just as she had done, and it yielded delightfully in his fingers, soft and firm and nimble. His lips sought out her left nipple, and he circled it with his tongue, licked the fresh, salty film of sweat off the pink skin; then he slipped it into his mouth and in turns sucked at it, kissed it, tasted it.

With a flick of her head she tossed her hair behind her, and moaned out loud. She instantly tried to quiet down, but Iden going at her with the full strength of his drive was far too enjoyable for her to control her breath, or to really care that much about anyone else. She sank her fingers deep in his hair, and her nipple hardened in his mouth. He felt her heartbeat race, felt her ribcage rapidly expand and, with a low hum in her throat, contract.

Then he felt her pull at his hair, lifting his head away. Her own excitement lent an unyielding force to her actions as she twisted around and pushed him against the wall in turn. She took his shirt and threw it off his body. She bit her lip and let air forcefully fly under her teeth as she went over his fine frame, her fingers fondly following the muscles of his shoulders, chest, and abdomen. But the sheer raw impatience was by now too strong to take it slow. She undid his belt buckle, grabbed at his trousers and underwear and pulled down, and his cock sprung up, enthusiastic to finally meet her.

She looked at its smooth curve, its strong shaft, its glans glistening with precum. Her mouth watered. Not even thinking anymore she dropped down on her elbows and licked the precum off, tasting his excitement, the sharp urgency of his want.

Now it was he that moaned out aloud. He looked down at her. Whatever plans he might have had for how to proceed, the situation had clearly slipped out of anyone's control -- there was nothing to be done here but to surrender to the overwhelming animal frenzy, to let things happen as they come. He bent over and from above, at an awkward angle, started peeling her own trousers off her. She let him go and shifted to help him out, and his hands were quick and decisive, and suddenly she found herself lying on her back, completely naked, and him completely naked above her, his hands planted on either side of her head, his hair lightly tickling her forehead.

He found enough self-control now to pause for a second, and he grinned at her. "Ran," he said, in a quiet, low voice.

"Iden." She returned his smile and threw her arms around his neck, and the eager invitation with which she said his name was irresistible. He adjusted himself, slid his glans across her inner lips, and then, with a single sleek thrust, he was all inside her, plunged right into her welcoming body. Her eyes unfocused a little, her jaw twitched, her elbow jerked, as if she was surprised to take all his length and girth at once so easily. A gaping urge within her was instantly quenched by a satisfying fullness. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and held tight onto him. She pulled his head down close, until their lips almost met, and looked deep into him. With a low groan he started thrusting, the sensation of her full and intense on his nerve tips. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the delight of feeling his body move, his abs sliding between her thighs, his chest against her breasts, his neck taut under her arms.

She kissed him deep, making him lose his rhythm. He returned it, and then felt her knee dig into his side. He yielded under this pressure, like a horse obeying his rider. Somehow, effortlessly, he ended up on his back and she on top, the kiss never interrupted. She broke off, straightened up, dug her fingers into his chest, and rode him, hard and fast, her voice at high pitch. He grabbed her waist and felt that lithe frame move, watched her breasts bounce and her skin glisten, watched her teasing mouth curl up and her eyes look down into his, that demon girl from Olssi. He gasped, sank his teeth into his lip, and slid his hands lower, until his thumbs met over the hood of her clit.

She slowed down, a little at first, and then all the way to a small sway, as he explored her there. He thought he got a good sense of her sweet spot when she dug her nails in him, swore loudly, and let out a heavy, moaning laughter, white teeth glittering under the black hair that again covered her face. There was another shift in their energy. He rose up, flipped her around, and pressed her, kneeling, with her face against the wall. He slightly parted her knees, wrapped one hand around her breast, reached for her clit with the other, and slid into her again, resting his chest on her back. Her nerves now completely ablaze, she was moaning loudly, needfully, occasionally weaving in his name or a shaky, earnest "fuck!" Large beads of sweat were forming on them, trickling down, blending together. Sleek and hot and wet all over, they slid against each other, skin on skin in full contact, their whole bodies now fully submerged in that tight rubbing motion with which humans come together. He leaned into her and thrust away, letting all the sensation of her unravelling person soak fully into him, and moaned in unison with her.

She arched her head back and caught the corner of his eye with hers.

"I'm gonna cum," she announced, loudly, all others long forgotten. He grinned and kissed her on the side of her head.

"Yeah, come on, gorgeous!" he said, thrusting deep, his own approaching climax already spreading like a wild glow in his underbelly.

"I want to look at you... when I..." she gasped, and nudged his head with hers. "To the floor, come on..." She slipped from his grip and went with her back to the floorboards, pulling him behind her by the neck, and they ended up where they started, interwoven, he on top of her, cock thrusting, finger teasing, her hands grabbing his head and bringing it right before hers, where her eyes darted all over his face. He vaguely realized that his expression must have been one of a complete admiration of her -- hers was certainly one of a complete admiration of him. Which meant that everything was in its right place -- this was, after all, a place of worship.

Finally all her muscles shut tight around him, her eyebrows twisted, her mouth coiled open wide, and from it, from the depth of her, a prolonged, quivering outcry rose up. Her back arched, lifting his thighs up with surprising strength. Around his cock, she contracted, convulsed, clung close. Then she went limp, dropped to the floor, and looked at him with an incredulous smile; and this smile was the last thing he saw before a powerful orgasm forced his eyes shut, forced the air out of his lungs, forced his seed out of his body, launching it into her with all the strength of his contracting muscles.

For a long moment they just floated, clinging together, eyes closed, ecstasy sloshing around them incandescent, all language in their thoughts melted away. Then, slowly, Ran opened her eyes, and saw above her the wooden ceiling, orange and radiant. She remembered to register the outside world -- its scents, its colours, and its sounds -- a non-inconsiderable part of the latter she judged to be stifled laughter. She giggled herself, and covered her eyes with her forearm.

"Hey, Iden," she whispered.

"Mm?" He emerged from his blissed-out fog and looked at her, with a happy sparkle in his eyes.

"I think I was kind of loud."

He snorted, pushed her forearm away, and kissed her on the forehead. "Yeah, you completely owned this place. Good job."

"Oh boy."

"And now everyone here knows exactly how much fun you had."

She bared her teeth and thwacked him on the arm. "You're not helping, you jerk."

He simply kissed her again, slid his fingers into her hair, and rested his face by hers. They lay still for several minutes, riding out the afterglow, mutually enjoying the feeling of their bodies calming down, drained of all energy.

Then at last she stirred and sat up.

"Sundown's soon. I've got to be running," she said. He regretfully knelt up, and watched her wipe herself clean with the wideleaf, and put her clothes back on. "What do we do with this thing?" she asked of the damp sheet. He shook the satisfied heaviness off himself and finally moved.

"We sacrifice it," he said. He took it from her, walked to the middle of the room, and tossed it onto the coals. A brief flame shot up. Its shadows danced on the wooden god.

"Okay. Well." She looked at him with a mix of awkwardness and affection. "It's been nice... meeting you," she said. He had intended to walk her over to the harbour, but it looked like she wanted a moment alone, to clear her head before rejoining her friends. Still naked, he just smiled and walked her over to the curtain at the entrance. As they were on their way, Ran's eyes briefly met those of that brown-haired beauty, who was now occupied with giving a backrub; and she thought that there was a sort of a thumbs-up vibe about her expression.

At the curtain they stopped and looked at each other.