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from the suit-yourself dept.
I am the Virgin of the World. I dance with my lord Adonai through all time and space. Or rather: all of time and space is our dance. Sometimes we play in full knowledge of each other. Other times, we dance the masquerade, seemingly unsure of who we are, pretending that we dally with strangers. But behind the masks, we know. And we smile. I am...
...a rabbit, quietly searching in the grass for food...
...a young woman. Yes, I am a young woman, slight of breast with full hips and piercing green eyes, very serious. I am in a wood. It is Autumn, but not too cold. The ground is covered with fallen leaves and moss. The clouds filter the sunlight into a somewhat unearthly haze.
I am waiting for my lover, a strong and serene country man. I ache for him to hold me, to make me feel light and alive. He is skilled both in love and in the ways of the land; I expect we shall be wed some day.
But he is not here yet. I think that perhaps I am early, so I spread my blanket by the elm tree at the top of the hill, intending to catch a glimpse of him as soon as possible. But the peacefulness of the forest makes me sleepy, and before long I drift into slumber.
I awaken to the most curious sensation. The scent of my lover is in my nostrils, and I begin to smile. But I'm feeling something...someone, lightly kissing the skin of my inner thighs. Under my skirt! I start to sit up, but I hear the voice of my lover, saying breathily, "Hush." But I feel him down below me, his breath lightly caressing my cleft, and I shiver in delight and anticipation.
For a few moments he is still, and all I can feel of him is his breath, warm and moist on my most sensitive recess. The suspense is making me dizzy. Then I feel his hands begin to slowly, softly brush along my legs, and I begin to grow moist myself. His face moves forward, I move my knees up a bit, but he teasingly turns his head to kiss just where my thigh meets my pelvis. I feel his tongue run down the periphery of my pubic hair -- oh, that's good! -- coming closer, but still teasing. His head crosses over to the other side, and I want to wrap my legs around his neck and grind him into me, but I hold back, letting him take his time. Now he is planting little kisses at the base of my belly, but his hands have begun to grow bolder, kneading my legs with an urgency that we both feel.
Suddenly, he is no longer teasing. He parts my inner lips with his thumbs, and I feel a small gasp of cool air on my opening for a moment. Then I moan as I feel his firm tongue descend on my button and then deep into me. I could climax in the moment, but I relax slightly, letting the sensations pour through me in waves. I pull my knees straight up to the heavens as he returns his attention to my clitoris, softening his tongue and moving gently back and forth against it. My head is turning side to side, my hands clutch at the blanket. Again his tongue enters me, so deeply I can hardly believe it. He is moaning as well, I think, sounding as much like a growl as a purr. When he withdraws his tongue this time, he replaces it with a finger, cautious at first, then more roughly back and forth as he matches the rhythm with his mouth around my clit.
Feeling as if I'm going to scream out any moment, I open my eyes, and see the branches of the tree above me. It suddenly feels to me that the branches are inside me, moving within me as the many shafts of my lover, filling me up with ecstasy at every point of contact. Under my skirt, he is now working in a second finger, then a third, never ceasing the exquisite motion of his tongue. Part of me wants to hold back, but I feel the charge building in my hips and legs, and I am carried along helplessly towards orgasm.
I can see nothing now; I can barely breathe. Uncontrollably, I begin to cry out, softly at first, then growing louder with every thrust of his hand, until my legs close around his head, and I am grinding myself into him, the energy surging through me higher and higher, my muscles spasming as he spreads wide his hand within my womb, and I scream, "I'M COMING! OH GOD, I'M COMING! I'M..."
...a seagull soaring high above the ocean...
...a tall, muscular girl, almost a woman. I have yellow hair cropped short, although my mother always told me that I'd catch a husband all the sooner if I would only let it grow. But I have other things on my mind besides a husband, home, and children. I have always wanted to be a soldier, to fight for the glory of my country and the honor of my King. And so I turned my back on family life and my little village, and went to seek my destiny in battle, since in my country a woman may join the army, although few choose to do so.
But I might not remain the the King's army long if my present whereabouts are discovered. For I have concealed myself within the Warlord's private tent. Part of my mind is telling myself, "This is insane! What am I doing? What do I hope to gain?"
But it has been three days since the great procession, when all of the troops paraded for the Warlord's inspection. Although I had been exhausted from the day's marching, I couldn't help but feel a flush of exhiliration as my regiment moved closer to the canopy of our leader. As it happens, I was positioned on the inside column, closest to where he stood, so naturally I glanced over toward him...
And found him staring back at me. Our eyes met, and it was as if the ground fell away from my feet. Looking into his eyes, I felt such power coming from him that my head began to spin. I could see desire there, too, and -- shining through his scarred, craggy features -- even tenderness.
But then he turned away. I almost stumbled to have him withdraw that way, and I thought I saw -- no, I did see -- sadness contort his face. He didn't look up again until after I had passed. But ever since then, I haven't been able to think of anything except seeing him again. So tonight, I staged a distraction for the guards outside his tent, and stole away within. Now I wait, unsure of what comes next, of how he will react. But part of me is certain that he wants me as I want him.
My heart races as I hear voices approach the tent. "And what of the provincial council, Lord?"
"Damn the provincial council!" It is him! I try to keep myself from trembling, and withdraw further into the pile of furs away from the tent opening. "Remind them that if the troops are not kept clothed and fed, they'll have no provinces to govern! Short-sighted, cowering, civilian imbiciles..." He muttered, then coughed. "Enough of this foolishness. The rest can wait till morning."
"Yes, Lord. Sleep well, Lord."
"Hmph," he snorts, then walks within the tent. I freeze, now totally uncertain of what to do, but doubting that he can see me in the darkness. I see him pause, and then in one motion, he suddenly draws his sword and leaps to where its point is inches from my face. I apparently was not quiet enough. "Come out of there," he says, steadily, calmly. "Let me see who I am killing."
This wasn't the reaction I had been imagining. I move my face closer to him, terrified. His eyes open wide. "You! The girl in the Elk regiment!" He almost smiles, but then becomes guarded again. "What are you doing here?"
"I, I --" I stammer, and then he slowly turns the sword away from me, "I don't know, really. I wanted to see you again. The way you looked at me, I thought -- thought you wanted..."
The Warlord stares at me, seemingly astonished, and sheathes his sword. "Huh! I'll be damned. All this time leading soldiers; by now I thought I'd never see anything new. I don't know what ideas you've got in that pretty head of yours, but I am -- in case you haven't noticed -- a grouchy old man. Not pleasant company for fair ladies, not even fit any longer for crude wenching. Thank you for the flattery, but --"
"I wasn't being flattering," I interrupt. I move toward him slightly, and to my inner amazement, notice his nervousness. "I felt something powerful between us the other day, so powerful, I don't know what to think. And I know you feel it, too." I move closer to him, feeling my confidence returning.
He scowled. "It doesn't matter what I feel. I am long past the time of my life when I could do any kind of justice to a young girl like yourself." As I come forward, though, he sits back, as if unconsciously accomodating me.
"But what makes you think I want justice?" I remember the tricks my grandmother taught to me when my mother wasn't around, tricks that I was supposed to save for my wedding night, and I feel a sudden flood of gratitude. This is the time. I look into his eyes as my hands reach up to his codpiece. He offers no resistance as I unbuckle the armor, and breathes in sharply as I begin to massage him through his breeches. I want to caress his face, to rock his head in my arms, but for now, I attend to his loins.
The cloth is moved easily aside. His scent is strong, animalistic, but not unpleasant. I am reminded of horses, of strong, rippling muscles, and I begin to feel like an animal myself. I take his penis into my mouth, and gently begin to stroke his balls, the way Grandmother taught me to. I can feel his breathing change. Then, as I begin to swirl my tongue around the head, I feel his penis stir. So he thinks he's too old? I'll show him.
I wrap my lips tightly at the base, then slide towards the tip while running my tongue along the sensitive underside. He pops out of my mouth, already semi-rigid, but I quickly swallow him up again. He lets out a low moan. By now, he's firm enough that I can move my head back and forward, and his excitement grows even further. As does mine, as well. I feel such a yearning within me, a craving to be closer to him, that I become more and more light-headed as I feel his passion growing.
Now he is fully erect, almost painfully hard. It is my god, my world-tree. I feel possessed, drunken. I kiss it, caress it with my hands and mouth. I let the wetness coat my hands so that they slide freely along his shaft as I make love to the head with my mouth. He is making sweet little sounds of pleasure now, strangely for such a fierce man, in time to my motions, back and forth, back and forth. Now I return one hand to his testes while keeping the other working the shaft, again and again. His flavor changes as he adds drops of his fluid to my spit, and I feel him become more slippery. Now I know that his pleasure grows closer.
My heart is pounding. I am pouring sweat, though the night is cool. All I sense is his growing energy, as if I were being blinded in a brillient sunrise. I relax my throat, opening up to take more of him in. Then I wrap my arms around his hips as my head vascillates wildly on his staff, stabbing him as far in as he will go, rushing, desperate, insatiable, until the Warlord arches his back, snarls like a mad beast, grabs my hair --
And he's erupting in my mouth, shaking all over, groaning, almost sobbing, legs curled up around my head, and spurt, spurt, spurting stream after stream of thick, pungent semen into me. In my mouth, down my throat, spilling out over my face, though I swallow greedily. At last, the Warlord relaxes.
And I am in love. I am at peace. I am...
...an insect buzzing above the fruit in a marketplace...
...a beautiful, graceful woman. My eyes are afire with love and delight, my large, firm breasts are swollen in anticipation of passion, for my lover is with me. We are seldom apart, my wild man and I, and have always been deeply, madly in love.
He is a romantic, my lover; of many moods, all of them passionate. I feel the pulse of his heart like the throbbing of the firmament, and that other throbbing too, yes... His laughter sends shivers down my spine, and the sound of his voice arouses like a dream of desire in the night.
We are kissing, yes, he is holding me in his arms, and I feel that we are swirling like waves in a tide-pool, like the swirling of our tongues, probing, tasting, exploring. I feel that we are dissolving, and yet very firm, as well, very much of the flesh, rubbing, pressing together, as our spirits merge and expand into a diffuse aurora.
I feel his hardness on my belly, and I want it. His thigh is pressed between my legs as we rock against each other, half-mad with lust. We grab each other's hips and cling more tightly still, kissing as if our life depends on it, as indeed it might, by now. With one hand, he now reaches up and bares one of my breasts, stroking it gently, then squeezing it, not too tightly, pinching my nipple as a deep, rough sound escapes from my throat. As he lowers his mouth onto my breast, my hands claw at his buttocks uncontrollably. His tongue begins to play with my nipple, and a flash of pleasure jets straight to my vulva. I am so close, I could ride just a little further down his thigh -- but he lifts his head just then, and kisses me full on the mouth again, distracting me slightly as he frees my other breast.
I pull my hips back from his so that I may reach down my hand and squeeze his hardened treasure. He gasps at my touch, and I know that he is as ready as I am. I move my hand along his swelling, able to feel every vein through the tautness of his clothing, and for a moment he abandons himself to my caresses, losing himself in the fullness of sensation. Then he returns to himself, and unfastens my blouse and skirt. I let go of him then, reluctantly, and quickly squirm out of my clothes. I move in close to him again, and rub my mound against him as I remove his shirt. He reaches for my breasts with his hands and then his mouth as I unfasten his pants and start to pull them down. Before I can again take his manhood in my hands, he steps back and out of his trousers.
Now we are both unclothed. We fall back upon the soft bed together, laughing. But after a moment, he looks into my eyes, touches my face, and again we are kissing, hungrily, breathlessly. He touches my wetness as I circle my fingers around his shaft, and we move to each other in rhythm. My passion seems to be pouring out a flood over his hand as he moves inside me and my hips buck wildly.
Impatiently, I break free of the kiss, and straddle over him, staring deeply into his eyes. I lower myself onto his burning spear, only as far as the tip, and pause. His eyes open wide in suspense. When I can wait no longer, I slowly slide down, taking him deep within me as my body turns to fire. I bend forward, pressing my breasts against him as we kiss, and I begin to rotate my hips. His cock moves within me, feeding my flames to a roar. I raise my head to look into his eyes and start to slowly rock back and forth. His hands are moving all over me, pressing my hips further into him, massaging my back, tickling my belly, then returning to my breasts, fondling them as they glow warmer and warmer, now licking the nipples and roughly rubbing his thumbs over the slickness. I feel as if they will start squirting milk, or even semen, at any moment. Meanwhile, my hips tilt back to rub my clit against his pole, then forward to press his glans against my tunnel, just so...
"Ah...Aahh...Ooh," I am moving faster now, feeling the building charge within me, losing myself in the pounding rhythm, like the crashing of waves on the shore. He is thrusting up into me, thrashing wildly, now nearly slipping outside me, now filling me up like a mountain. My blood is moving like lava, my head and chest like some shuddering vast expanse, as the energy moves through my spine, as his column surges into my most intimate hollow. And now the burning, so exquisite, so forbidden, that flushes my extremities and seizes my soul: take me now! Take me now! I am goddess, I am mother, I am whore, I am death! He is screaming, he is grasping, he is contracting, he is squirting! I am clenching, I am exploding, I am merging! I am yours! I am yours! I am...
...a spring flowing out of the side of a mountain...
...a tall, slender woman in my early 40s. My hair is red, my body is fit, I could easily be mistaken for someone ten years younger. And that's handy, because tonight I am on the prowl. I came to the club with an old lover of mine, but we parted ways just inside the door, in search of young blood. It shouldn't be too hard. The crowd is hot tonight, and so am I.
I notice a handsome stranger talking with a friend at the end of the bar. Deep eyes, large, sensuous lips, dark hair. Slightly unshaven, not too prissy. Looks like just my type. I strut over to the bar beside him, and run my hands over my body, not willing to waste any time. I see that I've caught his attention.
"What are you drinking?" he asks me.
I look into his eyes. Yeah, he's the one, alright. "What," I begin, then lower my gaze to his cock, "have you got?" He grins, then reaches out for me. I move right into his arms, and our lips meet. He slides his tongue down my throat as I feel his tight, muscular back, and his ass, mmm, I love a firm ass on a man. This is going to be okay. "C'mon," I tell him, and tug on his hand. He picks up his beer, and we go to the back of the club, the room with all the mattresses. It's still so early in the evening that only a few other couples are paired off in here. I prefer it that way. After midnight, you can hardly walk in here with all the squirming bodies. We find a corner away from the others.
He's still grinning, like he can't believe his luck. He doesn't know the half of it yet. I pop open my vest and give him a look at my tits, not so big, but nicely shaped. That gets him to put down his beer! He just grabs 'em, hard, and I growl and kiss him again. My hand moves down to his -- oh, what have we here? The guy's got a dick like a Louisville Slugger, and almost as hard already. That's it! I start figiting with his belt, so excited I can't seem to work it out, but he takes his hands off my breasts long enough to unfasten his pants. Immediately, I pull them down -- oh my God, willya look at the size of that thing -- and kneel down to take as much of it in my mouth as I can. I'm stroking the length of it with my hands at the same time, and I hear him moan, "Ooh, goddamn, baby!"
Now I'm bobbing my head in time with the music, he's gasping, and he probably isn't even noticing that I'm untying his shoes, unbuckling my own pants. I reach up to fondle his nuts, and reach down to finger my own wet hole. My clit's standing out like a gum-drop, and I let out a moan as I slip two fingers inside myself. Enough of this already! I take my mouth off him, and for a second he looks like a scolded child, but I'm starting to pull his pants off of him along with his shoes and socks. Then he gets it, and lifts up one foot, and then the other. I stand up to remove my own clothes while he gets rid of his shirt. I grab his cock and pull him onto the bed as I get down on all fours. "Listen," I tell him, as I pull out a little bottle of lube from my pants pocket, "I want you to fuck me in the ass."
He looks stunned, but he keeps smiling. "You want me to --"
Now it's my turn to smile. "I know, I'm a fucking pervert. You think you can handle it?"
"Well, we aim to please, ma'am."
I hand him the lube. "Just get this stuff all over your monster there, and get some in my asshole, too." I don't have to tell him twice. The boy knows what he's doing. He squirts some onto his hand, greases himself up real good, and then squirts out some on the crack of my ass and slowly starts to work in a finger. I'm pinching my nipples, getting myself really excited, as I feel him slide that digit up to the knuckle. He moves it back and forth, working the lube around, and I snarl. I want him up my chute now! I reach back and rub his cock, getting him warmed up, and then I point the business end at my bootie. "C'mon."
I feel him press against my asshole, and for a moment I'm almost afraid. I mean, I've been around the block a few times, if you know what I'm saying, but this guy's huge. Well, I'll just have to find out if I've got what it takes!
"Okay, go slow now." I lean back against him and try to relax my ass. He moves a little from side-to-side, trying to find the best angle. I press a little harder, and -- ooh -- he starts to fit inside me. Out a little bit, in a little further. I feel the electricity start, and I know I'm gonna take him all in. He slowly pumps a few more times, and his head gets past my tight little muscle. "Hold on, let me move." I move my ass in short little strokes, working him deeper inside me. His hands are clutching my cheeks. I'm moving more easily now, sliding back and forth, and shortly, I've got all of him in there. It's really tight, but it's soo good... "Alright, you can move now."
And so he does, slowly at first. The sensations are unbelievable! I'm making noises like a cat in heat. He moves more quickly now, and I'm bucking up against him, "Yeah...yeah...ooh, that's it...mmm..." I lower my head onto the mattress, offering my ass up higher to him, and he's really riding me now, it's so goddam intense! I reach down and start fingering my sopping-wet pussy. His balls are slapping against my ass and my hand. I'm aware of nothing else but this feeling, this delicious, sinful, all-consuming lust. "Fuck my ass! Fuck it! Goddam it! Yes, oh, yes! Motherfucker, that's good! Do it to me, baby! Ooh..."
I reach back with my free hand and slap myself on the butt. Smart boy, he takes the hint, and spanks me hard. "Oh, so you like that, huh?" He smacks the other cheek, still reaming me for all he's worth. "Take it, bitch!" He starts spanking me in rhythm, almost gently at first, then harder. But his dick never stops working my asshole. "Ooh, baby, I'm gonna..."
"Wait! Hang on!" I say, and start strumming my pussy more fiercely, changing the rhythm of my hips. I'm not far off... "Ooh, yeah, like that..." I feel it now, starting in my belly, in my breasts, singing in my head, in my cunt, and in my ass, more and more in my ass, "Come on now! Come in my ass! Come in my ass!" He screams like a dying animal, his nails digging stripes all along my back, and he unloads a torrent of come inside me, and I let loose. "AUUUGHH!" I roar, coming again and again, my asshole contracting on his cock like it's going to swallow it whole. "Oh...oh..."
I slump forward, his member slipping out of me at last, and collapse onto the mattress. I am exhausted. I am fulfilled. I am...
...an owl sleeping on a branch...
Princess scans from the Tarot Inspiration website.
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