Mmmm, it’s a hot steamy night, almost sensual on naked skin. Maybe a walk on the beach is warranted. Even better, a naked walk on the beach. Defineately! the shirt is off before I leave the carpark, lol, mmm how long before the boardies disappear into my shoulder bag, leaving me as bare as the day I was born, I wonder. To the beach then, on this Midsummer’s night. Ah the relentless ocean, a sound I grew up with, the sand between the toes, the summer night air lazing heavily, languid across my shoulders. Time to strip and be naked amongst the elements. Listening to the ocean, on a night such as this, I can almost imagine the Ocean rhythmically pounding his lover, the Beach, as they dance a timeless dance of passion. At times thrusting deeply, at others, sliding to his depth with the gentlest touch of two bodies, and ever and anon, the Beach, spreads herself wide & arches herself to meet his ardour, the folds and depths of her womanliness engulfing his hardness, his face buried between her breasts. So I stand, eyes closed, naked at the merging of the water and the sand, letting my mind’s eye perceive what it will. Midsummer is a time when the warp & weft of time dissolves and the veils between worlds becomes thin. Already I feel the erotic tingle of creative energy caressing me, like hot breath upon my skin. Mmmm it’s having it’s effect, my manhood grows hard, twitching. A flag raised in salute of the season. Running my fingertips along my skin, gods, what a sensation. I feel I’m being swept away, losing myself in waves of arousal. Time has no meaning, the air has the fragrance of salt-cured wood, with tones of a sweet something...is it fruit, flowers? And behind that spice- but what spice? The sensation of touch though and it’s maddening effect diminishes not, but grows stronger, threatening to consume me in fires of delight. Awareness sweeps over me, becoming the ordered twin to the arousal tingling my very core. I am not alone here...but where is here? I open my eyes and before me stands a man & a woman, but no humans could match the ethereal beauty of my companions...or their agelessness. The man has hair of salt & pepper hue, falling about his shoulders in cascades of flowing waves & he seems to be clad in a tunic of, can it be, sea-foam adorned with phosphoressence. And the Lady, her skin is the colour of the finest sand with hair, long & lusturous, the hue of the dune grasses in summer. She wears a short tunic seemingly crafted from the ocean worn pebbles of the beach woven together with silver. A very human thought intrudes, I’m naked before this Lord & Lady of the Otherworld, naked & hard, my manhood straining and twitching unabashedly. As if reading my mind, my Lady laughs merrily & with a graceful flick of her wrist, stands before me unclothed, as naked as I am. Another tinkling laugh , a flick of her wrist and my Lord joins us in our freedom from raiment. I raise my hands to take theirs and the purpose of all this reveals itself in my mind. There is an ancient rite to be performed, a sacrifice, of sorts, to be made, ancient magic to be generated and wielded. Arm in arm in arm, our fey trio moves down to the Ocean to begin.