Once upon a time two women lived together in a little cottage in an old walled city. The winter past had been extremely cold and there was no sign of spring approaching. The month of March brought even more snow and ice. Jess, the older woman with the dark hair, had caught a death of a chill. The younger woman with the red hair, Gabriele, had spent sleepless nights brewing teas and potions, trying every which way to nurse her back to health. Nothing seemed to relieve Jess of her suffering.
One snowy morning, Gabriele dressed in her thickest, warmest overclothing, pulled on boots made of pig’s leather and stuffed her spiky red hair under a fluffy woolen cap. She looked back over her shoulder. Jess sat next to the roaring fire, rolled in various blankets. Her one shoulder covered in a cream cotton shift was exposed. Gabi frowned when she heard Jess’s rattling cough and her labored breathing. She hung her head and ventured out into the blowing snow.
This was not the time of year to search for herbs so Gabriele decided to visit the local wise woman and ask for help. Snow swirled all around her as she stood on the threshold and knocked on the wise woman’s door. The door creaked open. Gabi’s eyes widened as she saw a young man dressed in a red robe, black hair spilling over his shoulders.
“Where is the wise woman?” she asked.
“She is also very sick,” the young man said. His eyes were as black as his hair.
“Yes. You come because your lover is ill.”
“My lover? She is not my lover. Have we met before?”
“Maybe,” he said.
Gabriele brushed his comment aside like she would a fly. “None of my remedies help her. I don’t understand the nature of her disease.”
“A strange strain of malady. The wise woman suffers from the same and other women in the city as well. It seems the only remedy that helps them is one that I administer myself.”
“Will you accompany me? We desperately need your help.”
“I will do my best,” he said.
They ventured back to the little cottage and found Jess swooned on the floor next to the fire. Each breath rattled her prone form. Her face was pale and grey. The strange man produced a flask that shimmered red. He rolled Jess on her back, tilted her head and lifted her chin. Jess’s mouth opened and he dribbled one, two, three drops of the red potion into her mouth. He covered her sparsely-clad body with a blanket, stood and left the cottage without a word.
Gabriele threw her wet overclothes into a pile on the floor and covered herself with a dry, black cotton shift. She sat watch next to Jess the whole day and night. Early in the morning, groans and rustling blankets woke Gabriele from a fitful sleep and she jarred awake to see Jess stirring.
“Oh, I had thought you would die!” Gabriele said and hugged her friend.
“What has happened to me? I only remember you leaving and me sitting here on the stool.”
“When I returned, you were unconscious.”
“I don’t know what happened. I remember standing naked in a hothouse. The tempered glass was red as blood and the air was hot as hell. My skin refused to perspire and I was dry as ash from the heat. I was so thirsty I could hardly breathe. The hothouse itself was full of strangling, wriggling vines. The demanding plants prodded and invaded. They wanted to tie me up and devour me whole. But a strange man appeared before me, allowed me to drink from his fountain and…”
Gabi held her hand up and Jess stopped speaking. “What did he look like?" Gabriele said.
“He was taller than I, dressed in robes red as blood like the sky beyond the hothouse. He cupped my fevered face in his hands. He kissed my lips and his juices moistened my mouth, my lungs, my loins. He…”
Jess’s chest began to heave. She sat up and searched Gabriele’s face for an explanation.
“Tell me what he did to you. You are healthy.” Gabriele felt Jess’s forehead. “The fever has broken. He has healed you.”
“He said I must drink. He knew I was thirsty and only he could quench my thirst, still my longing, fill me, make me whole again.”
Gabriele stroked Jess’s cream-white cheek. “Your pallor is gone, your skin is cool. Show me how he kissed you.”
“He took my face in his hands and touched my lips like this.” Jess pressed her lips to Gabriele’s and, ever so slightly, parted their lips with the tip of her tongue, moistening and stroking. She spoke without removing her lips. “The juices began to flow and I could breathe again. But I was still burning with fever.”
Jess got on her knees. “He told me to kneel. He offered me his warm and pulsing cock and I suckled him, desperate to wet my parched mouth. But he pulled out of my mouth and laid me on my back. He said he would heal me from the inside. He filled me to the hilt with all he had.”
Jess’s nipples stood hard against her thin cotton shift. Gabriele reached out and touched one. She ran a finger around the contrast: soft breast, hard nipple. Jess grabbed Gabriele’s other hand and lay back, pulling Gabriele down next to her.
“He sat over me, straddled my waist and entered me,” Jess said.
Gabriele climbed on top of Jess. Jess’s hands squeezed her buttocks as their naked loins pressed together. Gabriele allowed her hips to slide back and forth, slippery wetness easing the ride. She slid two fingers in between Jess’s moist folds.
“Tell me how he filled you.” Gabriele said.
“He thrusted in and out and each time, each time, he…”
Gabriele lay flat on Jess’s belly, ground her clit against Jess’ and thrust her fingers in and out, in and out, secretly summoning the strange man with all the power she could muster. Then she felt a hand on her buttocks. Not the sweet, gentle touch of a woman, but the strong, stable, squeezing hand of a man. One finger entered her from behind. The finger thrust in and out. She caught a glimpse of his red robe out of the corner of her eye.
“Fuck her to my rhythm,” he said as his cock filled her tight pussy. Gabriele’s ass lifted to take him in as far as he would go, to the hilt. Her fingers rammed again into Jess, keeping time to the man’s breathing. Jess moaned. Gabriele filled her mouth with Jess’s breast as the strange man fucked her from behind.
The man bore his weight down on Gabriele who in turn bore down on Jess. They became one in the force that held them together. The man ground down on the two women, thrusting his power from one to the next. They began to vibrate as one being, shuddering and stammering. They deflated as a whole. Jess opened her eyes. Gabriele looked over her shoulder. They were alone.
Gabriele jumped up. “I must find him.”
She threw on her wet overclothes and ventured out into the snow. She ran to the wise woman’s house and knocked on the door. The wind howled and she shielded her eyes from the swirling snow. The wise woman opened the door.
“Where is he?” Gabriele demanded.
“Where is who?” The wise woman looked hard at Gabriele. “Come inside. Your cheeks are flushed with fever.”
“I am delirious,” Gabriele said. “I have the sickness.”
“I will make you some tea,” the wise woman said. She led Gabriele towards the fire, turned and closed the door against the cold blast of snow. She put a pot of water over the fire.
“No, I need the potion! It is the only cure.”
“The red potion,” Gabriele said. “He gave it to us.”
The wise woman sighed and added herbs to the pot of water. She turned back to Gabriele with a pitying smile. “Yes, that potion. I regret ever having made it. It seems to have a mind of its own.”
“But it is the only cure for the disease!” Gabriele said.
The wise woman strained two mugs of tea. “But it is also the cause.”