by: Rick Johnson 
PO Box 40451
Tucson, Az.
85717
RikJohnson@juno.com
CONTENTS-
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Story XVIII
Story XIX
Story XX
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XVIII
My student and I had been invited to celebrate Beltane with a Coven on the West
Coast. It took us awhile to actually make it to the place since we were both on
Motorcycles and had planned to stop along the way to see the sights.
So we stopped at Yuma to play Beau Gest on the sand dunes, see a show in
Tiajuana, visit the San Diego Zoo and so on. Eventually we made it to the home of our
hosts who informed us that we would be camping on the beach over the days of the
Sabbat. Since the Sabbat was to be held, this year, on a Wednesday, and the beach was
private, and the Coven was Gardnerian, we were told that clothing was optional (my
student was naked before she finished) and we were allowed to camp out during the
week.
So we set up our tents, buried our cooler chest in the wet sand and relaxed in an
area that, to us desert rats, was quite a change. After all, I had travelled extensively with
the Air Force and had always come home to Arizona and my student was a native of
Oklahoma so we were both used to dryness.
My student was of a somewhat loose morals as to regarding her body, feeling that
she was quite attractive and since most men and a few women enjoyed her sight and
touch, she had dedicated her life to making as many people happy as was possible ... at
least until she was too old to do it. I, on the other hand, was a prude who, being built like
an avocado and socially retarded, looked much better in clothes. Even after ten years of
marriage, I still slept in pajamas. Thus, my student had an eternal all over tan while I
generally was quite pale by comparison.
The day of April 30th I did go in the buff simply because my student and a couple of the
Coven ladies stole and hid my clothes. Unfortunately, even though I soon got over my
embarrassment at my looks (few people in this world look beautiful naked, that is why
Fredericks of Hollywood makes so much money) my pale complexion soon turned red...
in all areas ... including that which is normally covered... do I have to spell it out???
The Sabbat was fun, especially that part where the Coven had a pre-ritual
slathering of Aloe Vera plants on each others sunburns. Even though my student had
none, she still allowed the men to oil her down. I suspect that my student set me up with
the Maiden of the Coven, a young woman in college, as she seemed to put a lot of time in
on me. I did become ... embarrassed at my ... reaction... to her applications of the Aloe
Vera to my most sensitive burn... don't make me say it!"
For some reason, after the rite, the Maiden asked to share my tent. It was, she
assured me, purely platonic as she was too drunk to drive home and I seemed to be a safe
person.
I hate it when women call me 'safe'. Why can't they find me irresistable or terribly
sexy or even a 'bad boy' like they do with so many others. I've discussed this with my
student many a time but she always replies that I'm just a nice guy and women feel
comfortable around me.
But, my student had made a date with someone for after the Sabbat and had left
me alone again. We were not lovers, just friends, a curse with which I am afflicted ... too
many female friends and too few female lovers. Regardless, I agreed and gave the
Maiden my student's sleeping bag.
It was a warm night so I and she ended up on top of the bags, she complained that
my pajamas were rediculous as only an hour before she had seen everything that I had to
offer, so I may as well take them off and be like everyone else, so eventually I did. Then
she complained that she was cold and needed body heat to keep warm and no, being
under the sleeping bag would be too hot so I should just hold her and it's ok, she wouldn't
bite.
She lied.
She did bite, and scratch and she even took advantage of my drunken state and it was
enjoyable if noisy.
But the worst part was my sunburn. I could almost survive the scratches on my
burned back, but that part of my anatomy that was unused to the sun did pain me a lot. It
hurt a lot, and instead of listening to my 'companion' explain how she normally didn't do
that sort of thing but she liked me and she wasn't too experienced so she hoped that I
found her a good lover because she wasn't a tramp and so on, all I could think of was
where was that lousy sunburn cream?
I excused myself, crawled out of the tent, tripped over my student and her
friend(s)(?), excused myself, removed a hand that applied itself to my derriere and
wandered off in search of relief. Unfortunately, I couldn't locate the first aid kit.
Eventually, I did find our ice chest still buried in the sand, and by the light of the
almost full moon discovered that we still had a pint of milk left. So I poured a glass of
cold milk and stuck the object of my greatest pain into the cooling liquid.
I was thinking of what to do next when I heard a giggle behind me. I turned to see
my former companion staring at me and trying not to laugh.
"Something wrong?" I asked.
She stifled a giggle and replied, "It's just that I never saw a man reload that thing
before."
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XIX
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XX
To be added when the Muse directs.
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-17
To contact me or to request topics to be covered, send to RikJohnson@juno.com
by: Rick Johnson
PO Box 40451
Tucson, Az.
85717
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