Author's Note:  Dedicated to Thyme

* * *

 

Thyme had just settled down in her favorite chair by the fire for the evening to work on a new quilt project when she heard a strange noise at her front door. She looked at Thunder, her Rottweiler, but he simply lifted his head and stared in the direction of the sound for a moment before he put his head back down on his paws and closed his eyes, returning to his post dinner nap.

“Well, either you’re getting too old and lazy to be much of a watchdog any more, old fella, or you’ve assessed the situation like the seasoned pro that I trust you to be and have deemed it not to be a threat,” Thyme told the old dog, humor in her rich contralto voice. She thought about ignoring the sound like Thunder had, but she reconsidered. It really had been a very substantial thud.

Putting the notes for her project aside and clicking her tongue as a signal for Thunder to follow her to the door, she got up and moved gracefully to the front of the room. While she was retired–for the most part–from her involvement in activities that could bring danger to one’s door on a peaceful summer evening, it never hurt to be careful, and Thyme was always careful. She lived alone in a charming but isolated house in a wooded area and things that went thud in the dusk sent her warning bells off, even if Thunder didn’t seem too worried.

For that reason, she opened the drawer of the end table and grabbed her Glock on her way to the door. Better safe than sorry, she reasoned, feeling slightly silly as she peered through the spyhole. By virtue of the mirror strategically placed on the porch, she could see that no one was outside, but that there was something attached to the arrow that was now embedded in her newly painted front door.

Making an exasperated sound, she unlocked the door and pulled it open with a jerk.

“Balloons!” she told Thunder, who barked at the gaily colored spheres that bobbed from the arrow that was too deeply sunk into the door for her to pull out. “Why in the world is he shooting balloons at my house?” The red raven feathers that adorned the arrow left her in no doubt as to the author of this idiocy, as if she were to need any help guessing who would be shooting arrows at her house, she thought with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. She had just gotten the door painted. That crazy Green Beret was going to be hanging a new door for her before he left town again if she had anything to say about it, she told Thunder.

She turned and scanned the woods, not expecting to see anything. She wasn’t disappointed. Something told her that this was only step one in whatever game Steven Redraven had decided to play tonight. Would that man ever grow up? She hoped not, she was forced to admit, if only to herself, as she considered whether she should grab a sweater. A smile was tugging at her lips, as she looked towards the woods again. The evenings could get cold even in August here in Canada, and it might be a while before she found her unexpected source of heat for the night. She still couldn’t see any sign of the balloon archer.

“Well, you got my attention!” Thyme called. “Are you coming in or are we playing hide and seek?” The evening breeze carried the faintest sound of laughter, hardly distinguishable from the sound of the wind through the leaves, but Thyme knew the sound well and had been listening for it. Her smile widened to one that very few people ever saw on her face. It transformed her, and had anyone other than Thunder been looking, they would have realized that the short feathery silver hair that framed her heart shaped face was deceptive; she suddenly looked far younger than most people thought she was. (The truth, of course, was that Thyme was ageless; as old as the stars and as young as the morning).

Reaching inside, she grabbed the first thing that came to hand from the hooks by the door before pulling the door closed behind her and locking it. She smiled ruefully as she saw what her hand had selected–a worn old uniform shirt that came down to her knees– a shirt she used when raking leaves. It covered her quite well since its original owner was well over a foot taller than she was! How apropos that she should wear it tonight. Her guest would be amused. As long as she didn’t blend into the woods too well and get shot with an arrow, it occurred to her to worry.

“I do hope your eyesight is holding up, old man. Can you see me well enough or do I need to put on an orange vest? Or perhaps one of those hardhats with a flashlight on it...I could go get one in a jiffy,” she called out as she stepped into the darkening woods, feeling slightly silly talking to apparent nothingness.

An arrow whizzed past in answer to her taunt, striking the tree behind her–missing her by about two inches– hitting its mark just above her head. Thyme shivered slightly as she looked up at the still quivering arrow, balloons tied to this one as well.

“I do hope you’re adjusting for those balloons, you lunatic!” she called out tartly. “I’m quite satisfied with the part in my hair where it is. I wouldn’t care to have you slicing a new one in it.”

Thunder added a few barks for emphasis.

Thyme walked forward on the path a half mile or so until it came to a fork. The sun was rapidly setting and it was getting chillier. She was glad for the warmth of the long-sleeved shirt. With the extra length of the sleeves rolled up it provided a double thickness for her arms. She stopped to ponder which way she should turn. Left would take her down near the lake while right would lead eventually toward the small village where she did her weekly shopping. Sure enough, a third arrow came soaring through the air, striking a tree several yards down the path on the left. She smiled to see that the balloons attached to this arrow glowed slightly, helping to guide her way.

“Well, boy, it looks like our guide has chosen not to chance our heads to his skill,” she commented to Thunder, adding quickly, “not that we doubted it, of course.” Thunder barked his agreement and once more Thyme was sure that she could hear more than the sound of wind whispering through the trees. That aggravating man, she thought, shaking her head ruefully. When was he going to show his face? Of course, knowing him, she had no guarantee she would see his face tonight. No doubt he had something special planned, besides a wild balloon chase through the woods, but whether she would actually get to see him? That depended on so many things and she knew better than to make any assumptions. With a sigh, Thyme looked toward the next cluster of glowing balloons and walked briskly on.

Within ten minutes, she reached a spot where the arrow landed on an area that branched away from the well-worn path, onto a smaller, more overgrown path that wound its way through the underbrush and more closely set trees. She followed it cautiously, the path very difficult to discern and this part of the woods completely unfamiliar to her. Even Thunder seemed to be proceeding without his usual abandon, staying close to her side. But, at each point that Thyme was about to give up, sure that she’d lost the path, another arrow with its faintly glowing balloon marker would appear to show her the way.

“Talk about the path less traveled by,” she grumbled to her canine companion, but Thunder’s bark in response was altogether too cheerful to suggest that he was fooled by her tone of voice. He knew that she was having just as much fun as he was, following this unexpected trail of bobbing balloons.

“Oh my,” Thyme exclaimed softly. The path had taken a sudden turn around a cluster of thick trees and suddenly the lake was in front of her, the setting sun just sinking beneath the horizon, while the full moon was shining on the sparkling water, filling it with diamonds of light. Competing with those two natural wonders, however, was the sight filling the sky in the large fairground on the other side of the lake. Slowly, as Thyme watched, large hot air balloons were taking shape, inflating and rising up from the ground, glowing in the night.

As Thyme watched, transfixed by the beauty in front of her, she was taken unaware by the silent approach of someone from behind, not realizing she was no longer alone in her spot by the lake until strong arms wrapped around her and she felt herself pulled tight against a broad chest.

“It’s called Moonglow,” a deep voice whispered in her ear. She smiled and relaxed against the man behind her.

“It’s lovely.”

Thyme let herself be pulled down onto the blanket that was laid out beneath some low hanging trees which afforded privacy without blocking their view of the spectacle across the lake. One by one the hot air balloons were inflated to their full size by their teams and the varied colored balloons lifted up into the air, a dozen yards or so, enough for the propane fires to set them aglow, showing off their peacocky colors and designs for all to admire. Some were beautiful and some were funny and some were simply fantastical, but under the glow of the moon’s light, all appeared magical.

Safe in their shadows, Thunder standing guard back on the path, Thyme watched the show from the circle of Redraven’s arms, sipping occasionally from the bottle of wine he’d thoughtfully provided. At first they didn’t say anything, both content just to look at the balloons and listen to the night sounds around them.

As one by one the balloons dimmed, and they started to return to earth, Thyme closed her eyes.
“I don’t think I want to watch this part. There’s something too sad about those lovely balloons lying on the ground. They don’t seem like the same glamorous creatures they were by moon’s glow, do they? There must be a message in that somewhere,” she reflected sadly.

Red turned her around to face him and tipped her chin up. “Yeah, the message is don’t let you drink so much wine next time,” he answered prosaically, then grinned at her. “That’s what I get for giving you too much wine. It makes you too maudlin to enjoy your birthday surprise.”

“It’s not my birthday....” Thyme started to protest but Red bent his head and silenced her with a kiss.

“Until tomorrow,” he finished. “I know. But by the time we’re done celebrating here, love, it’ll be your birthday...trust me.”

The tall man slid his old uniform shirt from her shoulders before laying her down on the blanket that he’d spread out earlier beneath the sheltering trees. Kneeling above her, he stripped off his shirt, exposing to her appreciative gaze the smooth muscular torso and rippled abdominal muscles that hadn’t changed since his youth. Red was in his forties but he possessed the body of a man half his age, Thyme thought enviously, wondering how the man did it, staying so youthful looking. His copper colored skin gleamed in the moonlight as he did his strip tease for her, standing up to unbuckle his belt, slowly pulling it free from his soft leather pants.

“Is this part of my birthday present?” she asked huskily.

He grinned boyishly. “Well, I know how you like a good show...but if I’m boring you.”

“Not at all, please...go on, nice and slow,” she encouraged him. He thoughtfully folded his shirt and placed it under her head to pillow it so she was quite comfortable. She wasn’t feeling at all cold now either, she noticed. In fact, she was beginning to feel quite warm, as she watched him flick open the buttons on his trousers. One. By. One.

Thyme swallowed. A six foot-seven man needs a lot of buttons on the fly of his trousers, she noticed, somewhat irrelevantly. Or maybe not so irrelevantly. After all, she reasoned, she might want to make him some pants. For Christmas. Right.

Oh, my, she thought, as he lowered his trousers, which were the only thing he had left to take off.

It wasn’t that Thyme and Red had never been lovers before–they had. Quite memorably. But the times were, for reasons beyond their control, rather fewer and farther between than they would have chosen had their lives been completely theirs to control. The silver lining to this was that when they did manage to come together again, it was in many ways the best of both worlds. They had the familiarity of being old and cherished friends and yet the excitement and sense of discovery of new lovers.

Finally naked, her lover stood silhouetted in the moonlight above her, his cock already hard and rising out from his groin. She looked at it pointedly.
“There’s no end to my birthday presents tonight, it seems.”

Red laughed, his full, barking laugh that was a far cry from his whispering leaves laughter. This laugh made Thunder answer him in kind from the path and Thyme had to tell him to hush. The two lovers smiled at each other then Red fell to his knees and leaned over her as he replied to her comment in a low purring voice, “Aw, it’s not that there’s no end to it, it just looks that way. Even the longest things have an end, love, but I promise you this present won’t end before dawn.”

Thyme fully intended to make a wisecrack answer. She really did. But it was a little difficult to do that right at the moment when your thoughts were taken up with the sensation of having a hard bodied man press that hard bodied self against you and start kissing you from your neck...one of your particularly erogenous zones...to your toes as he slowly worked his way down, undressing you as he went, kissing and licking every inch of the way.

And as Red slowly drove her insane with desire, easily holding her hands above her head with one of his large hands, pinning her so she couldn’t touch him, she could only writhe helplessly under the ministrations of his talented tongue and the hand he wasn’t using to hold her down. She could feel the bruising pressure of his cock against her, leaking precum on her thigh as she tried rutting against him. His dark hair fell against her breasts as he sucked on a nipple while his fingers stroked between her legs.

“Please, Steve, please... now.”

“God, I love you, lady,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with the strain of holding back.

Their eyes locked and finally he let go of her hands so she could hold his dear face between them. How she had missed him. She gave him a moment to put on a condom, then they kissed, long and deep, his hand cupping her head and hers entwined in his long black hair. He tucked her legs around his waist and then thrust deep as she rose up to meet him, clasping her arms around his broad shoulders. He rolled over, putting her on top of him, holding her at the waist so he could guide her up and down with his strong arms. Her eyes widened at the sensations he was creating, the angles he was hitting.

He smiled up at her. “I’m controlling this ride, you can control the next one, bossy lady,” he told her with one of his grins, before pulling her to him for another kiss, his thumbs grazing back and forth over her nipples.

“Oh my stars, Steve...”

He kissed her again, slipping his hand between them to stroke her as his other hand continued to fondle her breasts. She dug her nails into the thick muscles of his biceps as she came, shuddering as he held her close in the moon’s shadow.

 

* * *

True to his word, Steven Redraven made love to Thyme until the dawn. He offered to take her on a balloon ride at the festival to greet the dawn, but she decided to pass in favor of riding with him in his small two passenger plane later in the day. After a night spent sleeping outside – or rather, not sleeping outside – a morning spent soaking in the Jacuzzi at her house followed by several hours napping in her big four poster bed seemed like a much better agenda than bouncing around in a hot air balloon which could land them anywhere.

She didn’t need to twist his arm. Though the napping was somewhat intermittent. And the Jacuzzi time wasn’t spent just relaxing. But if Thunder wasn’t talking, neither was Thyme.

All in all, it was an excellent birthday.

Though she fully intended to talk to a certain man about the arrow that was still stuck in her front door.
 

Feedback for Arwensong

or email to arwensong@comcast.net

Return to Balloon Challenge