A Signature in the Moonlight

Lunatic (n): From Old French lunatique, from late Latin lunaticus, from Latin luna 'moon'. The belief that changes of the moon causes temporary mood changes or periods of intermittent insanity. Also: Moonstruck, Moonsick.

The lady with the red hair was on her knees in the moonlight, rocking back and fore with her wide hips bouncing against me. Her elbows rested on the soft cool sand, into which my knees sank further with every thrust. In the distance the waves lapped on the shore, barely audible above the sound of the gentle wind through the bushes that were close behind us and the slapping of hips against butt.

I stroked my fingers along her sides, feeling the ridges of her ribs and cupped her tiny but firm breasts that hung below her. Then I scratched my fingernail slowly down her spine, one vertebra at a time from the nape of her neck all the way to her coccyx. She shuddered and I raised the tempo until she gasped and pushed backwards firmly against me. I held her hips as we both enjoyed the moment. Two lines in the sand had formed between the hollows that marked the position of her elbows.

Ingrid was the only woman I ever knew who had nipples so long that they wrote her initials in sand.

* * *

I first became aware of Ingrid Irwin when I was young. I had joined the village dramatic society, which was something people did in those days. There was a club for everything from cycling to chess and football, and people came together to support them.

With the Drama Club if you weren't involved as a performer or in the crew, you were in the audience. I expect things are different nowadays but in an era before internet and big-screen sports in every pub, everyone knew each other and joined in these events.

Ingrid was young, fresh-faced and pretty with a ready smile showing flashing teeth. She stood out with her dark red hair and wide green eyes that penetrated my soul whenever our eyes met.

I was older than her. Not by much, but at the time the difference seemed too wide by far. I stayed in the background, working the primitive lights and sound system whilst the cast sang and danced on the tiny stage. I had left school four years before her, now she was, what eighteen or nineteen herself? A blossoming woman starting to make her own way in life. The star of the show, her beauty self-evident as she sang a humorous song accompanied by a comedic dance and then after a costume change, the lead in a rousing sing-along.

There were no changing rooms in that tiny hall; a black screen curtain was rigged at the back of the stage, taking up valuable space to give some privacy to an area where the ladies could change costumes. The few men involved could take their chances with the darkness and weather outside, between the kitchen and the stinking toilet block.

So there I was, pressing buttons on a reel-to-reel tape player (remember them?) and pulling on the ropes for the main stage curtains whilst rehearsals took place. The hall lights were up as there was no audience, one number had finished and the compère fluffed his lines to lines of empty chairs. I cringed at his delivery and hoped that it would be better on the night. It was beyond hope that it would actually be good. Then I noticed a disturbance behind the screen, the screen cloth moved and with a shriek of laughter someone fell through onto the front of the stage. The hair showed that it was Ingrid, the fair skin showed that she was wearing very little.

In fact she wore just high heeled shoes and little black panties, and as she fell she tried to hold her arm around her bare chest. Unfortunately her heel was caught in the curtain and instinctively both hands were used to save herself from injury as she twisted around.

The image that was burned into my memory for evermore was that of her left breast being revealed to the hall. A single boob with an uncommonly long pink nipple.

She swiftly recovered herself and concealed the flesh with her arm once more. Then before I could blink, even as her face blushed brightly, she had crawled back under the curtain to continue with her change.

As is the way of these things, nothing was ever said. Later there was a discussion about why the fall occurred and how to prevent it in future - in particular during the actual performance. But no comments were made about those of us present having a good flash. She stood with a straight face dressed in the flamboyant costume of the final number and explained that a frayed hem on the cloth had caught her heel and if someone had a needle and cotton handy it could easily be mended.

The incident was replayed many times in my mind; the long legs crumpling off balance, the flat stomach above the skimpy underwear, the embarrassed giggling as she wriggled out of sight. But most of all the arm flailing out, the firm small breast and the exhibition of a nipple that was the size of a baby's finger.

* * *

A few years passed. I had left the village and was working in the city. Then one night I was at a popular nightclub, together with some mates from work. We saw some girls talking at the bar and asked them for a dance. A girl with red hair turned to me and asked if I was married.

Her green eyes were sparkling and her white teeth flashed as her speech showed that some alcohol had been consumed that night. But it was clearly Ingrid, as gorgeous as ever.

"No, I'm not married", I replied.

"Are you sure? I don't dance with married men so you'd better not be."

I protested my innocence in the marriage department -- even had confirmation from my friend - and we commenced to dance. She had a sexy little wiggle as she danced that made her slinky little dress shimmy as she moved her hips. Then all too soon it was over. We had a brief kiss (hand placed chastely on her hip), exchanged telephone numbers and separated.

A week later I had a party to attend. It was an engagement do, the sort of event where a 'plus one' was firmly expected. Being firmly single I phoned Ingrid on the number that I had scrawled down and asked if she could come.

She enquired again as to my marital status (why would I be asking her if I was already in a relationship?) and then the deal was done. The following evening I collected her in my car and we went to the event. This was held at a venue overlooking the ocean, a spectacular place at the top of a low cliff away from the town itself.

Ingrid was intrigued when I mentioned that we had met before; she hadn't recognised me in the club with the booze and the music. When I reminded her of the tumble through the curtain she burst out laughing and blushed again. She remembered it well enough; she had hoped that everyone else had forgotten.

The party passed as these events do; plenty of alcohol and false jollity. I introduced Ingrid to people that she would be unlikely to remember or ever meet again, we ate snacks from a long table and when I could see that she was getting bored I bade farewell to the happy soon-to-be-divorced couple and we left.

Outside there was now a brightness that made for clear vision even without any street lighting. Ingrid stood still and looked up, arms outstretched. "Look, a full moon. Isn't it fantastic?" I studied it briefly; the moon was low on the horizon and appeared exceptionally large. The car park overlooked the ocean and the reflections illuminated every ripple.

I must admit that I hadn't previously spent too much time admiring the phases of the moon but this lady was appreciative of the spectacle. She breathed deeply, "I do love a full moon. Don't you?"

I agreed of course. It would have been churlish to claim to hate the moon.

We started towards home, the road following the bay. There were areas where the sea was visible and after a couple of miles Ingrid had a request, "Can we stop and take a walk on the beach?"

The night was late, but it was a warm summer and there was a car park nearby. There were no other cars or people present as we crossed the wooden walkway to the sand and Ingrid stooped to remove her shoes. She wore a calf-length white dress with a simple belt.

We stepped away from the path. "Isn't it the most wonderful thing, to be within nature away from man-made things?"

I looked at her quizzically. Even away from the street lights, the moon and stars shone so brightly that we could see clearly. She continued, "We should be at one with the light of the moon, clothed by the beams."

Without waiting for an answer she moved to one of the wind-stunted trees that grew on a line of dunes that separated the beach from the road. Then she loosened her belt and raised the white dress over her head. Hanging the garment with her purse on a branch, she now stood in white underwear.

Next she unclasped her bra and swiftly tugged down the remaining item, her pristine and gleaming panties. Now she stood naked in the moonlight, arms out wide basking in the blue radiance.

Her body had matured since the last time I had seen her, but I recognised the trim stomach, the long legs. But most of all I recalled a small firm left breast, and now I could see that it had an identical partner with an equally long appendage.

On the sand a shadow stretched showing the silhouette of her slim athletic body complete with the outline of one of the nipples. But she was staring at me.

"Aren't you joining me to celebrate the alignment of the celestial orbs?"

So here I was, on an empty deserted beach in the night with the lady who had long been the object of my fantasies. She being totally naked and demanding that I undress; it didn't take too long to comply and soon the bush was littered with items of clothing.

The sand was unexpectedly cool against my bare feet now that the heat of the day had dissipated. Some dry leaves had fallen and had sharp edges as I stood on them but Ingrid was not shy and stepped out away from the shrubbery, shaking her long hair loose so that the curls fell unhindered over her shoulders. "Come on, let's walk naturally."

She took my hand and led the way across the open sand to the water's edge, all long slender legs and taut buttocks. I had developed a comfortable semi when Ingrid had stripped off, but now as I looked about nervously for any lurking spectators I could feel myself shrinking. The breeze was warm on my unclothed skin but my nervousness at being seen -- or recognised -- in the bright light made me shiver. We were now a long way from the concealment of the shrubs and could have been seen from a great distance.

We strolled together following the water's edge as the cold ripples ebbed and flowed around our feet, then she paused. "We should seal this occasion."

She knelt down on the damp sand and took my penis into her mouth. The sudden warmth on that small part was startling after the cool breeze and had an instant effect although she had an unusual technique. Not for her a gentle sliding of lips, a swirling of a tongue or the suction from cheeks and lungs.

Ingrid took me deeply and swallowed repeatedly. Rhythmic ripples ran along my cock as she used the muscles of her throat in a way that I have never otherwise known.

When she eventually relaxed and expelled me, I checked out the shadows on the sand. Our elongated silhouettes stretched across the beach, my protrusion pointing directly at her as she knelt.

Ingrid raised her breasts with her hands. They were so firm that they had little movement but her long nipples rested against my member. With a little pressure from her fingers, she bent the nubs over my cock so that they met and enclosed it. Then she proceeded to give me a gentle nipple-wank.

Eventually she stood. "The moon always has this effect on me, it makes me horny." Ingrid murmured, "but it is very special tonight." She led me back towards the bushes where our clothing was strewn before speaking again. "Can you fetch my bag?"

I located her handbag and passed it to her whereupon she opened it and retrieved a long bushy object. She bent over and without fuss inserted the end into her ass. Then she squatted on her haunches and stared at the moon for a while longer in silence. Her triangle of trimmed dark curls touched the surface of the beach as she paused with her thighs wide apart. When she stood, she brushed the grains of sand away.

"Have you never seen a tail butt-plug before?" she asked. "I had this made especially, to look like the tail of a wolf. Do you like it? I love it, wolves are my favourite animal."

She twirled around, showing me the hairy toy that reached down to the back of her knees. It was a dark colour at the top, golden fair in the middle to match her hair and a white tip, so that it filled the space between her buttocks. It didn't hang vertically; the tail was attached at an angle so that it started horizontally before gravity influenced its direction.

She walked with a long effortless loping gait, the object swinging with the rhythm of her steps. We found a place near the bushes where the sand was dry and soft where she again knelt down. "Do me in the moonlight, here where there are no shadows to hide us."

She leaned down on her forearms so that her butt and the tail was raised in the air. She pulled the tail to one side so that she showed her glistening labia. I knelt behind her and aimed for the entry point.

I slid in easily; she was well lubricated but gripped me firmly with internal muscles that pulled me tightly against the hard ridges of the plug that I could feel inside.

She spoke again, "Do not pull out until I'm ready."

I was concerned by this unusual request, but had a question of my own. "Are you on anything, like precautions?"

"If I am fertilised it will be the will of the moon."

* * *

That wonderfully whimsical reply seemed to make sense to her, but remember that this was in a time when any unfortunate infection could be resolved with a simple doctor's prescription.

She had presented her rear for sex and received it enthusiastically. It was the first time I ever fucked a woman wearing a plug and it certainly added a different dimension to the experience.

Afterwards, her hand moved beneath me holding my balls firmly. Even though I was now spent, she had me by the proverbial and I was held in position whilst those magnificent hips continued to swivel.

Then without warning she threw her head back and howled.

* * *

When she ceased her unearthly barking she was out of breath and panted furiously with fire in her eyes.

It was then that I noticed that the moon had now darkened and was almost invisible. We were in the middle of a lunar eclipse. Without thinking I began to withdraw from her but she made a growling noise and kept her gaze fixed on the moon, so I stayed still. Soon the eclipse began to finish and a few minutes later there was a mere crescent of shadow remaining as the brightness returned.

Ingrid gave another howl and released her grip on me. As I withdrew, her pussy expelled a droplet of fluid onto the sand. She stood and stretched her arms high, her breasts raised and her tail returning to its normal position.

We retraced our steps to our clothes and I dressed. However when I turned, Ingrid had still not put any clothes on. She walked naked back along the beach and across the car park and we reached the car she climbed onto the passenger seat before curling up into a ball. By the time I had packed her clothing into the rear of the car, she was fast asleep.

The journey back to town took about 30 minutes. Shortly before we arrived Ingrid woke, lowered the window and put her head out into the blast of wind. She turned around to me with teeth bared, "Are we nearly there yet?"

Her hair was blown out but she didn't seem to notice or care, so I asked her if she wanted to come back to my place 'for coffee' and she did. When we entered my house though she showed little interest in caffeinated beverages but bounded around exploring.

She finally found the bed, lay down curled up on the quilt and had fallen asleep once more by the time I had visited the bathroom.

* * *

I woke early and Ingrid woke with me. She stretched expansively and rose. Announcing that she needed to use the facilities, she walked across the bedroom and shut the door behind her. She was still nude but for the wolf's tail hanging behind her. Soon she was back, holding the toy. "Do you have my bag?"

I quickly dressed and went out to the car to fetch her belongings. Her shoes, dress, underwear and bag didn't amount to much, I hoped that my neighbours hadn't witnessed her entering my flat in a state of undress. When I returned with her stuff, she paused before asking me a straight question, "I hope you don't mind me asking you this, but where the fuck am I and what am I doing here?"

That took me by surprise. I started to explain where we had been the night before and it quickly became apparent that she was OK with who I was and where we had been earlier in the evening, but she had no recollection whatsoever about going to the beach or what had occurred there. Nor obviously with coming back to my place. She had woken with her plug inserted and that was it.

She put her bra on, slipped on her dress, cinched the belt and stood. The worn panties went in her purse with the tail. "Don't worry, it's been washed. I think its best if I go now, thanks for looking after me." She seemed in a rush, as if embarrassed by the events of the previous night.

I shrugged, "My pleasure totally. Any time there's a full moon and you need looking after again, let me know. But seriously, you still haven't had the coffee you came here for and I'm sure that I can rustle up some breakfast."

After some initial reluctance she agreed to some sustenance and stay long enough for coffee and some hot buttered toast. As a single man I wasn't too big on fancy cooking but I always did enjoy a decent brand of coffee and fresh crusty bread that you can cut with a proper knife.

* * *

I phoned Ingrid a couple of days later, thinking it was best maybe not to appear if I was stalking her. Just give it a little while, you know what I mean? She was off-hand at first and wanted to know why I hadn't bothered, so my tardiness back-fired a little. She showed no interest in continuing the relationship.

I never saw her again; sometimes I think back to that night and wonder if it was my imagination. My friends who were present at the wedding remember her (someone once called Ingrid the 'one with the teeth') so possibly it really did happen.