Consider me a Mused
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*This is an erotic story of sorts taken from a recent conversation between Sir Gray and his enchanting muse. May it thrill you and delight you… *Muse: Sir Grey your muse summons You You sing the song of my soul like a lark *Sir Grey: My muse My muse you stir Me unlike any other come here at once linger beside Me The memory of bidden words and unbidden desires comes to My mind now I am reminded of contact on some soulish level between us My dear one how I have missed you Yes… *Muse: Sir...
Chapter 1: A Muse Is Born I woke up screaming hysterically. Not a very manly thing to do I'll admit, but what would you have done if you'd been nudged out of your sleep and found a... something sitting on your lap? I screamed. "Who are you?" I asked cautiously. The woman astride my legs appeared to be slightly younger than my thirty years, with long brown hair and a pixie face. "Erin." I didn't know anyone named Erin, and was just about to ask where the hell she had come from when I...
The Muse By Anon Allsop The American Heritage Dictionary defines a 'Muse' as a guiding spirit or a source of inspiration. For an author, a Muse is a very powerful and helpful ingredient to have on your side. Join us as we look in on a struggling author... what will he do when he comes face to face with his Muse? ****** "This has continued for almost six months!", I thought and sighed, drumming my fingers upon the mouse pad. I had been trying to compose a short...
Muse skipped down the street, happily and blissfully ignorant of her surroundings. Traffic, had she bothered to pay much attention, was moving at a brisk clip, cars, trucks and buses moving through the streets, seemingly ignorant of the light drizzle of rain that was gradually turning the grey sidewalks and streets a glossy black. Though vehicles were in abundance, people were sparse. Those that walked on the sidewalks huddled beneath their umbrellas or scurrying from cover to cover to avoid...
He caught himself in the mirror and backpedalled. Dark, sunken rings around pink fatigued eyes glared back. His waxy pallor, the colour of plain paper and his skin, the texture of gruel haunted him. Wearily, he carried a pained and troubled countenance. His limp hair aged him and he rubbed at the abrasive stubble on his chin.The long abominable night never felt lonelier as he stared from the window and waited for them to come.Any unfamiliar sound pumped adrenaline through his embattled body....
Supernatural(format corrected and simplified 1/15/08) ‘Don’t ignore your muse. Pay close attention and do EVERY little thing she says and do nothing she advises you NOT to do.’ ‘Hey, Hey, HEY! This is my ‘How To’! Don’t talk to them directly!’ ‘Are you arguing with ME?’ ‘Um, uhhhh, nope. Not I. Ummm, would you mind if I started this again? I’ll tell your part as you’ve told me. OK? But shouldn’t it be in my voice? I’ll tell them how you introduced yourself and influenced the stories. This one is all...
Here is a new universe that I challenge everybody to write in. I don't think anybody has quite had an idea like this before. A person can live a book, movie, TV show, etc., and THEN have to go further once it reaches the end of the known storyline. Interesting! I dare you all to try! Raven "The Muses" by Raven Jack was causally strolling through the wide indoor avenues of the mall when he noticed a new store. It struck him as rather curious because he was in the mall on a...
The Muse The MuseBy Darqside Perhaps it can be said that the pen is mightier than the sword, but the way I see it, the pen is also mightier than the man or woman. It all started at the local arts and supply store I go to a few blocks down the street from where I live. It was a rather unusual shop, full of things you wouldn?t normally find in an art store, fortune telling baubles, dice, board games, magic trick supplies, Halloween decorations, you name it, really?but the sign outside still...
The Taming of the Muse If you were to ask a professional fiction writer where their ideas come fromthey'd seem a bit perplexed at first, then they would look you straight inthe eye, and say with complete sincerity. "I have no idea." What do you expect? They write fiction. It's all about telling compellinglies in an entertaining fashion. I'm no pro, I'm a rank amateur without pretensionsso I don't mind telling you where I get my ideas. I have a muse. Bluebell, my muse is one of the...
The words wouldn’t come. I’m sure every writer, whatever the genre, has experienced it at some time or another. We might say, ‘my muse has gone on holiday’, or something similar. As if the ability to write comes from outside us. Of course, sometimes a writer’s muse is outside him – or her, mustn’t upset the PC police, must I? – we’ve all read about famous writers, or composers, or sculptors, or whatever, who have fallen in love (usually unrequited, of course) and have produced prodigiously to...
Solemn and faceless they bore her coffin in from the cold, listless morning. It was early, yet, and the chapel had not yet filled, but I knew that before long even the standing room would be crowded. The pallbearers paused with the strength of ritual, and placed the mahogany box like an altar at the front of the church. The rich wood gleamed brilliantly with the kiss of sacred candlelight. As well it should shine, as it would be a closed casket service. The air was stifling with the scent of...
The night before your phone rings you answered and walked into the other room. When you return you have a wicked smile curving your lips. Tilting my head I say to you could not have been that good baby you only gone a few minutes.Your body slips back into the bed which moments before had been a lustful torrent. Curling up to me your arm slips across me. Your lips whisper to me my muse you trust me no matter what. Of course My Artist have I given you cause to think I do not? No never but...
It was one of those boring days again. John would make me sit as still as I could, and use me as he always did whenever he had a sudden epiphany to paint. “keep quiet and just help me, darling,” he would mutter whenever I made a peep of complaint, and he would silence me completely with a long and hard kiss before he stepped away from me, his eyes never leaving me, and sit again at his infernal favorite position, behind the painting easel with the paintbrush held in his left hand.You see, John...
Quickie SexHi! I’m Anand, back with a new story. I’m back with a fictional story this time. This story is about a guy named Kailash. Kailash an average guy was working at a business consulting firm that sucked the life out of him. However, to keep the life a bit colorful he had made friends with the canvas. He was an artist, a painter. And strangely so he had mastered the art of nude painting. Kailash was an introvert and interacted very less with people. A humble man with a weird but a beautiful hobby....
IncestChapter One Chateau Bertrand, Paris, 1795 From the shadows, Roland Bertrand watched the young woman paint onto a canvas with delicate strokes. His library was illuminated by tapers, and they cast a soft glow on the dark- skinned beauty who was immersed in her art. She was now focusing on the figures, but from the distance, Roland could not make out the exact nature of the scene. No doubt this painting will be a gift from my brother, thought Roland, drawing closer to the woman. The candle...
Hello, my name is Elise and I am an artist, the stereotypical starving artist and everything. Always looking for ways to find money to help me buy more paint. I paint, sculpt, write, take pictures, pretty much any artistic activity I will do. I attend workshops often and this is how I became a muse. One day I was painting a still life in a room full of other artists at our local art studio. I was still painting at 9:00, when the studio closes. I was so focused on my work I had not realized...
ExhibitionismFor my Lady....Musings... As I kneel at the edge of the bed contentedly lapping up what's left of my Ladys' nectar, I keep thinking how lucky I am to have met and serve this wonderful woman. She is by no means an angel and without fault. She is not blessed with patience, as everything about her seems to be done at top speed, leading to lots of little mistakes in her day to day vanilla existance. I find this aspect of her to be endearing if a little irksome in my, "place for everything and...
The evil taxman woke up slowly. He hadn't slept very well, and he suspected he knew why. His bed was just too convenient for trysts. It was out of the way; therefore the participants were unlikely to be interrupted. It was just the right height. It was sturdy, easily able to hold two bodies. And the lid was polished and smooth. No splinters. But they forget, or don't care that it was HIS bed! He got out of his coffin and got dressed. He shut the lid and looked at it with a sigh. Yup, someone...
"Don't ignore your muse. Pay close attention and do EVERY little thing she says and do nothing she advises you NOT to do." "Hey, Hey, HEY! This is my 'How To'! Don't talk to them directly!" "Are you arguing with ME?" "Um, uhhhh, nope. Not I. Ummm, would you mind if I started this again? I'll tell your part as you've told me. OK? But shouldn't it be in my voice? I'll tell them how you introduced yourself and influenced the stories. This one is all about YOU. So thank you......
The question startled me, jerking me out of my trance. I can slip into ‘the zone’ when I’m sketching and one inherent risk is being crept up on. I snapped out of it sharply, trying to discern the source of the floating voice. It sounded awfully close. Behind me perhaps. “Piss off!” Jim retorted, irritated at the interruption. He was sitting on the other side of his kitchen table sketching me sketch him. I looked over my shoulder. There, behind me, just peering around the door, was the face of...
To avoid any major confusion, the italicized sections are what the main character in the story is writing (i.e. she’s writing about herself in third person). There will — hopefully — be a second part that follows. Feedback, comments and constructive criticisms are welcome. ‘What’s the project again?’ ‘I swear to god, Chris, you don’t listen to a word I say.’ ‘So what? Tell me again.’ ‘I have to write a story about myself.’ Silence. ‘It can be anything. It can be about my life, it can...
It was one of those boring days again. John would make me sit as still as I could, and use me as he always did whenever he had a sudden epiphany to paint. “keep quiet and just help me, darling,” he would mutter whenever I made a peep of complaint, and he would silence me completely with a long and hard kiss before he stepped away from me, his eyes never leaving me, and sit again at his infernal favorite position, behind the painting easel with the paintbrush held in his left hand. You see,...
Hello, my name is Elise and I am an artist, the stereotypical starving artist and everything. Always looking for ways to find money to help me buy more paint. I paint, sculpt, write, take pictures, pretty much any artistic activity I will do. I attend workshops often and this is how I became a muse. One day I was painting a still life in a room full of other artists at our local art studio. I was still painting at 9:00, when the studio closes. I was so focused on my work I had not realized...
Copyright 1999 by Wanda Cunningham. Please do not archive except on Fitionmania or atEROS without my permission. ==================================== Hair Salon Muse by Wanda I'm not sure why I went into the hair salon that day but it became a turning point in my life. The sign said, Hair Cuts, Men $6 - Women $8 - Children $5. That seemed like a good deal so I went in and waited for an open chair. The magazines were an odd mix, Seventeen and Field and Stream, Modern...
Sophie's Muse To be a boy was not so bad Some of the best fun I ever had! I preferred to be a girl though, please I did so like to flirt and tease! But best of all's where I now range The reigning god of gender change. With a lightning switch to punish a crime Is so erotic, so sublime - Though oft times the price that justice seeks Is to drag it out over several weeks. But best of all's when I look down On yonder village, yonder town At the lonely people living...
MUSINGS By Betty Noone I was an adult before I was told that until I was 10 year old my parents dressed me in hand-me-downs, because I was too pretty, and they feared that I could be prey to a molester. It was a joke in the family before I reached puberty that my father was probably the milkman as I didn't resemble any of my parents nor my two older siblings. I had fair skin, a pug nose and small chin. It was summertime and I was eleven years old,...
We met Larry at the pier. He stuffed a fiver into my palm and told me to get some chips. He liked doing stuff like that, partly to show off his wad, but mostly to bribe me into ‘doing off’ for ten minutes or so.I watched the two of them through the cafe window as I stood in line at the counter. They were conjoined in the sort of embrace most adulterers save for hotel rooms and back seats in isolated woodland car parks. He even had his hands tucked into the back of Mum’s jeans, squeezing her ass...
TeenMy muse is real. Let me describe her. She is "Tinkerbell." If not the original, she is the sister or first cousin of Walt Disney's cute little flitting fairy who spreads fairy dust in her wake. She's only about eight inches tall but is really cute. I can tell you that I wish I were only eight inches tall so I could attempt to a, a, get her in my clutches and kiss her into oblivion. But I digress, as this is an attempt to let my readers know how nuts this miniature temptress is. She is...
- Thursday, Jan. 31 John Anderson sat at his desk and wondered what he was going to do about Amy. Amy was his wife of six years, and lately she had been behaving very strangely toward him. It seemed that she had her mind on something, and he couldn't figure out what it could be. For over a month now, ever since Christmas, she seemed to be lost in thought almost every evening. Their conversations had deteriorated to simple sentences. They used to have long conversations over the supper table,...
Eve: From meat, to dessert Hard to soft - I assert! Meaningful transition Corny proposition? What says u? Are your hints my cue? Adam: Meat to desert is a beginning To new course that leads back to meat. Hard suck lets you take the flesh Off the bone and caressing/licking The soft bone drenches your throat With the juices so warm. Eve: Ripe and Juicy no doubt, When there is meat and cream, there will be no drought! Happy is the tongue When the juice from the meat it has wrung Sing...
Musings Ken sat quietly one Saturday morning thinking about his wife, Barbara, as they both sat at the kitchen table talking to the neighbor’s daughter, Beth, who had just turned 19. Looking at the hunger Beth caused his thoughts to drift back to the beginning of his relationship with Barbara and how they developed into what it is today. He remembered when they first met. Barbara was a senior in high school and had just turned 17. He, on the other hand, was 22 and had a good paying job that...
It was about 10:30 in the morning when my doorbell rang. Normally, I don't bother answering the door during the day. Anyone I know would call before just arriving at the house. A random arrival could only be someone trying to sell me something, or to convert me to their religion. I work from home, so I really hate disturbances of any kind during the day. However, feeling in the mood for a fight, I opened the front door. One of my neighbours was standing there, clutching a sheaf of paper in...
“What’ya doing?” The question startled me, jerking me out of my trance. I can slip into ‘the zone’ when I’m sketching and one inherent risk is being crept up on. I snapped out of it sharply, trying to discern the source of the floating voice. It sounded awfully close. Behind me perhaps. “Piss off!” Jim retorted, irritated at the interruption. He was sitting on the other side of his kitchen table sketching me sketch him. I looked over my shoulder. There, behind me, just peering around the...
I was still chuckling at Dave’s latest quip when Ellen turned to kiss me. We had crossed the street after getting off the train, she and I holding hands and Dave walking next to us. She kind of stepped in front of me to do it, stopping me in my drunken tracks. Fact was we were all pretty well lit up but she had a more-mischievous-then-drunk look in her eye as her smirking lips lifted up to mine. My mouth met hers for what I expected to be a short peck in front of Dave, but she threw her arms...
Jason Petrov stood at the stove and stirred his oatmeal. He repeated the line of poetry he had been working on since dawn, trying to get it right, when the telephone's shrill ringing shattered his concentration. Fuck! He slammed his spoon down on the counter. Why can't I be left alone? Before picking up the phone, he noticed the empty bird feeder outside his kitchen window, then took a deep sigh to suppress his anger before picking up the receiver. He spoke calmly, then stiffened at the voice...
Straight SexAuthor’s Note: Thank you to all those who have encouraged me to continue writing. Thank you Tim413413 for the hours of editing. ***** Sleep wasn’t coming. Reading almost worked. My eyes would close and my mind would drift, then reality would slam back in. I rolled over and looked at the clock. Eleven thirty. At least it wasn’t too late yet. I could still get six hours’ sleep if I could just calm my mind. I took a couple of deep breaths, trying to slow my active heart. I relaxed my eyelids...
At first, there was darkness. The kind of darkness that is absolute and oppressing, forbidding of contrast and all the more empty for it. In this darkness, layed a lump, oblivious and indifferent to its surroundings.A single ray of light pierced the darkness, like a herald to your glory. Suddenly, things inside the darkness took shape and the lump saw himself for what he was for the first time. Invigorated, the man stumbled towards the light but before he reached it, a million other rays joined...
Love StoriesJust a note: If I see more likes on a chapter, I'll be more likely to revisit the chapter, providing additional choices at the end. Not just trolling for likes, but it really does help as an author to know where to concentrate my efforts! Okay, let’s start from the beginning. I come from a small rural town on the East coast. I was born in the early 70’s and so the internet and social media didn’t play a part in my childhood. A little about me: My name's Madison and I'm 18 years old. I have a...
IncestIt's a rainy Friday night as John sits in the living room of the three bedroom townhouse playing around with his prized Nikon N2000. As he sits in his papasan chair, he sees a flash outside the window and a loud crash. He looks up from the lens he was cleaning with a slight smile. "Oh, how I love thunderstorms." He says to himself quietly. Suddenly, the front door flies open. His roommate and life-long best friend, Doe trudges through the door and plops herself down on the couch. Her curly...
I was lying alone in my bed. It’s unusual for me to lie in bed alone. I never liked to be alone in bed. I always had somebody along with me in my bed, since my days of adolescence. I came back home after a three day outing along with my friends. The outing was great; the scenic beauty of the places visited was beyond description and the weather was wonderful. I clicked lovely pictures, had delicious food, drank exotic wine and had great sex with my friends. It was almost midnight before I...
LesbianJason Petrov stood at the stove and stirred his oatmeal. He repeated the line of poetry he had been working on since dawn, trying to get it right, but the telephone's shrill ringing shattered his concentration. Fuck! He slammed his spoon down on the counter. Why can't I be left alone? Before picking up the phone, he noticed the empty bird feeder outside his kitchen window, then took a deep breath to suppress his anger before picking up the receiver. He spoke calmly, then stiffened at the...
Love StoriesWith the holiday theme in mind I can only say it truly is ‘a wonder life.’ Today is Thursday morning 12/18/14, the 4th day of me being on a mission for my second baby. Ken and I are doing the work well, very well. I’m getting into counting now. This morning was the 11th episode of ‘The Overdose’. It has come to the point where I can’t hold any more. I’m leaving a goo stain everyplace I sit. So I’m back on the tampon, if only to plug the leak. The producers have also extended the series,...
I am sitting on the deck of our rented beach house in front of my laptop. We come here for about three weeks each summer. I am supposed to be working on my latest thriller, for that is my profession. Crime Novelist. Instead, I am watching her. She is sunbathing down on the beach.We are not on a private beach, so other people share our oceanfront. Jennifer is lying on a gray beach towel, facing the waves as the sun beats down on her back. She has a color that disgusts the other women I have seen...
Love Stories“You asked her if she was trans? Are you an idiot?” Sarah Lynn yelled at me. What could I say. I felt like an idiot, especially facing her wrath. “I didn’t. I just wanted… I thought she must have some reason for wanting me to see that particular movie with her,” I whined. “Couldn’t you see the way that bodystocking hugged the curves of her pussy when she took the dress off in the studio?” “I was really trying hard not to stare. It’s fine for other girls to stare at a girl, but it’s not...
Phillip was walking in a daze. All of the chain of circumstances that happened last night had finally taken a toll on him and he was ready to crash. The fact that he was suffering from a migraine helped wear him down as well. He could hear students in the kitchen area, probably getting an early breakfast. Two fellow students passed him in the hallway. "So, do you think he will survive?" "DUDE, he is Logan. He is WOLVERINE. Of course he is going to survive." Logan seemed to be the only...
It was the pink chiffon and black lace ruffled blouse that did mein. But it was just so very pretty; I just had to try it on! I hadto feel it next to my skin. Thats when she walked in, seeing me in my weekest moment, and her sexiest pink lace bra that I had tossed so carelessly on the bedroom floor. It was about 2 sizes to small and it didnt stretch like other bras did so I dropped it when I couldn't get it around me far enough to hook. I expected...
Cindi was back in her house, now, at last, packed and ready to go. It was time to tell her the rest. Well, the rest of what she needed to know for this trip home. This was going to be hard. For me. She had called me a God and meant it, so I had to handle this carefully. I had to expose some weakness. «“Cindi, before you go, there are some things we have to talk about.”» “Of course, my Lord. Anything you need.” «“I’ve never been to Themiscyra before.”» “Well, My Lord, it’s really not that...
I crawl in my bed alone, nightlight on to keep the shadow monsters under the bed, my favorite teddy clutched to my chest. Daddy won't be home for quite a while, and I know he'll expect me sound asleep when he arrives. He always does when he has late business dinners. As I lay tucked tightly in my satin sheets, the soft material intoxicating against the exposed skin of my legs and hips. Twisting my toes and feet in the luxurious sheets, staring at the glow in the dark stars on my ceiling. My...
Hi Guys, I am Abhay or ye Meri pehli story hai IndianSexStories pe. Ye Incident Real hai or agar koi galti ho toh sorry. Let’s start with my intro. Main Delhi ka Launda hu or age hai 22 years. Main ek student hu or technology mai dhyan thoda jada hai. Looks are average par height meri 6 foot hai or lund bhi average he size ka hai i.e. 6-inch. Chalo agar aapko mera intro pasand ho toh jarur mail karna I am complete straight guy. Chalo ab story pe aate hai. Actually jaise ke abhi bataya mujhe...
After shooting my load into Emily we gasped for air. I turned and dropped my body next to her.My cock semi-hard, sore from all the cumming, and slippery from all the mixture of fluids from Emily and mine.I felt Janice get on top of my legs and started cleaning up my cock with her lusty lips. I've never felt like this before. Like I was floating. I was high, ecstatic, and exhausted."What if I get pregnant?" Emily blurted out and Janice choked on my cock."How long has it been since your last...
“One more?” he asked. She nodded and took her wallet from her purse. He handed her the scotch on the rocks – her sixth or seventh one for the evening – and wondered how she managed to keep her balance on the high barstool. Her eyes had that glazed look of somebody who had definitely had a few too many, but if he had not been the one to pour her drinks – all six or seven of them – he would not have guessed she was drunk. There was no characteristic slumping or wobbling or even raucous...
She was late. I detested people with no respect for others' time. I stood in front of the new, 30 story apartment development in the city centre. With rising fuel prizes and the fast developing city living trend, I am looking for some city apartments as an investment opportunity.I saw the little black Mercedes crawling down the street. Stop. Do a risky U-turn and perform a 50 movement parallel park on my side of the street - this could only be one of those care free female drivers who are so...
VoyeurHe stood and pressed his penis (still in his jeans) against my ass. Then he did something that turned me on like nobody has ever. He put his hand inside of the underwear, and slid into my ass crack, massaging there, and then sliding to my pussy, there and back, there and back. It was turning me on so much that I moaned, and my knees started shaking. I fell to the ground. On all fours. I heard the sound of him unzipping his jeans. I saw them fall on the floor, as well as his boxers. “Baby…†I...
AffairWe lay there again, catching our breath. I finally asked, "Now what time is it?" Pam said, "It's a little after 9." I said, "We better get up and get this place straight. We sure don't want Jim to come home and find us like this." Pam agreed. We got up, cleaned up my toys and straightened the bed. I put on another one of my long dresses and Pam put her pants back on. We went downstairs and I put on some tea. I started to feel a little different -- I mean, it was slowly hitting me....
Ein langer Tag lag hinter ihm. Müde steuerte Thomas Schmidt seinen alten Opel Corsa durch den Abendverkehr. Eigentlich hätte er sich freuen sollen, denn heute war sein 28. Geburtstag und die Mädchen hatten sicherlich etwas für ihn vorbereitet. Doch Thomas war erschöpft, der heutige Tag im Büro war anstrengend und nervenraubend gewesen. Sein Chef, Herr Mayer, hatte morgen eine Vorstandsbesprechung, entsprechend hektisch war es im Büro zugegangen. Die Ergebnisse des letzten Monats waren nicht so...
There is a sad fact of life that some men discover as they age into their late forties and fifties; some of the wives, who had been good and accommodating lovers from before marriage and until their late forties, lose interest in having sex. Sometimes this is caused by hormonal changes resulting from menopause, or it could be that they have simply tired of the ritual and no longer enjoy it. Some men just accept those changes, while others either seek out other women or men for relief and/or...
HardcoreThe pole show started at 10:00 the next day. Both Yolanda and Angel finished their separate pole routines. Each received decent applause. Kimi walked onto the stage with a small cloth in her hand. She tossed it at the base of the pole.”Yesterday before dinner Marcy encouraged me...” Marcy interrupted, “Kimi, pretend there was someone at the back door. Speak so they can hear you clearly.” “Thank you, Marcy. Yesterday before dinner Marcy encouraged me to say something in a firm confident...
The Womanless Beauty Pageant - Part 1 of 11 The only thing worse than being pressured into participating in a womanless beauty pageant, is to finish in last place. The ramifications of that experience turned out to be life changing, for Miss Bobby. As Co-authors, Monica and I have a couple of very special ladies to thank, both are icons in the TG community. The first is Vickie Tern. Without her encouragement and inspiration this story would never have been written. The second is...