Dance Of Delight Between Sir Muse
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The Taming Of The Muse free porn video
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 prettiest you're likely to come across. Tryand picture Reese Witherspoon with jet-black hair in a wispy pixie cut. Addsome shockingly deep blue eyes that are (proportionally) just a bit too largefor her cute little face.
Are you with me so far?
Now shrink the whole package down to about five inches, add some gossamerwings and a penchant for wearing nothing more than a strategically placed flowerpetal. Now you've got a pretty fair picture of my muse.
In short, she's adorable.
Now a sexy little muse like Blue might distract some writers, but not me.We're a team, she inspires while I construct the tale and type it out, Ok keyboardit, (no sense letting everybody know exactly how old I really am).
I can't say it's always been strictly about the stories, sometimes when weget into a really hot narrative things can get pretty sticky. She's been knownto grind herself against my knuckle while I type. I even had a little pinkyfinger ring made just for her. It's shaped a bit like a saddle with smoothsides and a bumpy bit of a ridge for her to ride.
That got them talking down at the Dwain's Jewelry Emporium.
Now I know what you're thinking, that's all well and good for her but afterall what can she ever do for me? I must admit when the object of your affectionis shorter than your erection it does present a few logistical problems. Despitewhat all those nice ladies from the bar tell you size really does matter.
Sometimes she just wraps her arms and legs around me and pumps for all she'sworth. It's a lot of work for her but she's a real trouper. The best timesare when she backs up against me, wraps those sweet little wings back aroundand flutters. What can I say; you've never really had sex until you've beenfluttered off with fairy wings.
Naturally I can't last very long when she does that. Before you know it she'ssitting there looking so sweet and sluttish with my cum covering her face andchest as it slowly drips down her tiny body.
I'll just stare at her drenched little breasts heaving as she tries to catchher breath. Eventually I carry her off to the bathroom sink and gently washher up. I have to towel dry her because the hair dryer just blows her away.
But we're not really about the sex; actually it's all about the stories. Togetherwe come up with some entertaining tales. She says I'm a good listener.
It sounds ideal right? So what can the problem be, you ask? Well I'm a bitof a compulsive bard, I always think it could be said just a wee bit better.I'll write a story and then sit there and tweak it, never quite sure when tostop. It drives her nuts! Eventually, usually around the fifth or sixth rewriteshe tosses her head back screams that high pitched squeal of disgust and poof,she's gone. That's when I know it's time to post the damn story.
This brings us to the problem. When she splits she's really gone. I wait forher, sometimes for days, often for weeks, once for nearly all of a cold winter.I'm not really possessive, Lord knows I'm not faithful to her. I mean thereare some things you can only do with a full size woman and I'm sure she understandsthat. I am only human. I've never formally introduced her to my girlfriends.That would be kind of tacky. Still I never hide the fact that I see full sizewomen from her.
Still you would think she'd hang around a little closer once a story is doneso we could get back to work after a reasonable break. Then there are all thosetimes she mutters strange terms in French. I don't know a word of French butit sure sounds romantic. Where does she pick up that crap? And Miguel! Whothe hell is Miguel? And why would she call out his name while rubbing herselfon my knuckle?
It's enough to drive a writer to drink, so when she vanishes I head off tothe "Booby Trap" a local bar and Gentleman's club. That's where I'mto be found whenever she's ditched me for a while. The dancers are cute; theybat their eyes at you while they strip down and twirl around that pole in amost seductive manner. Well after a couple of drinks it sure seems seductive.They'll even personally collect tips from you and tuck them in their G-string(or a garter whenever they've misplace that pesky little G-string).
That's where I met Jinn. He was tossing back shots and looking grumpy eventhough all the off duty dancers were hanging all over him. I went over introducedmyself and bought him a round, then another. It wasn't till the fifth shotI learned he was a Genie.
Now don't be surprised. Most people know at least one or two Genies. It'sjust that they rarely know that the Genie they know actually is a Genie. It'snot the type of profession you emphasize on your business card. I never wouldhave guessed that Jinn was a Genie if we hadn't been doing shots of Tequila.
Ordinarily a Genie can drink a centaur under the table, and if we had beendrinking beer or scotch or bourbon or vodka or just about anything else I wouldhave passed out long before his tongue loosened.
It seems there are four major uses for Tequila. First off it's a wonderfultopical antibiotic, kills those germs on contact. Second it is a very effectiveanesthetic when taken internally. Third it is fairly good at stripping wallpaint or for that matter engine grease. Lastly Tequila is one of three knownsubstances that will make a Genie loopy.
Go figure.
After six shots Jinn was crying on my shoulder. He blubbered about the lawof the three, the stupidest people wishes he'd ever heard, lousy benefits,and a workweek that covered almost all of eternity. I tried to be sympathetic,and I am a good listener. Naturally I asked why they did the whole three wishesthing; we were both a little tipsy but it seemed he was saying in a round-aboutway that he was working to buy his way out of eternity or maybe it was outof eternal damnation.
I wished him the best of luck.
He babbled on and I soon learned all about why you get only three wishes.It has to do with all those mystic numbers and three being the first of thefirst and only mystic numbers. It's the first prime number to follow the onlyeven prime number so that's why you only get three wishes. He also told meabout the surest scam to beat that system. You do your first two wishes thenuse your third to wish for three new wishes. You can ask for seven or thirteenor forty-two wishes or any of the other mystic first and only numbers and youmight get them, or you might just wink out of existence.
The safest bet is to always ask for three; it just works. Of course the twowishes you wished for before are undone so if your first wish was for a cureto your terminal cancer, and your second was for that twelve inch cock youalways wanted you might want to think carefully before employing this strategy.He also warned me that most people get into a lot of trouble when they askedfor things that changed the world, (peace on earth can be really fatal butat least it's very peaceful). It was better to ask for things that only changedyourself.
I was game; I tried it, what the heck. First I asked for a sweet virgin pantingto please, and then I went for the bottomless bucket of fifties. Jinn was underthe weather so I actually got a black lunch bucket filled with crisp new fifties,and of course it had no bottom but I caught on right away and I scooped upnearly five grand before the rest just disappeared. As for the vestal virgin,well even a drunken Genie can handle that one. Jennie was a six-month-old goldenretriever; she wanted to please and certainly knew how to pant. I was determinedto spend a bit of the cash before I undid anything so I held off on the "doover" wish and we agreed to meet back at the "Booby Trap" atthe same time tomorrow.
I spent a restless night planning out the perfect wish. Around about threein the morning it came to me so I jotted it down before I dropped off to sleep.
I was at the Bar at 8:45 the next morning waiting for it to open. I mean whyon earth would any drinking establishment wait until 9:00am to open? By thattime most of the honest hard working folk are already at work. Turns out Ididn't need to be quite that early because Jinn didn't stumble in until 10:15.
I hit him right away with my do over wish. Interestingly the dog didn't botherdisappearing. I started out with three fresh wishes. For a first wish I pulledout the note I'd written myself and very carefully asked Jinn for the knowledgeto compose a perfect wish.
Jinn sighed. I guess he'd heard this one before. With a nod he got back tohis drinking. We were both sticking to beer this morning so I wasn't goingto have any particular advantage. I drank and thought and drank some more.
Around about 11:30 it hit me. The perfect wish! What I'd always really wantedand it wasn't all that much to ask for.
" Uhm, Jinn you know what I'd really like?"
" No! I'm a Genie, asshole; not some fucking mind reader."
He was sounding a little grumpy but I plunged ahead.
?I wish I had, No let me say this just right. I wish My musewas a tame muse."
When a Genie gets nervous they start to get a little thin and wispy aroundthe edges. They lose a lot of their skin tone and even in the dim lightingof a bar you can see a blue tinge to their complexion. Genies don't sweat,even when they're faced with an impossible task. That might help you pick themout in a crowd.
?Ah, Muses just don't come tamed. They wouldn't be muses that way. I meanyou've known her for how many years? What do you expect from me anyway? "
" What happens when a Genie can't fulfill a wish?" I asked casually.
Jinn squinted at me real hard. His jaw was working as he started to sputter.The off duty dancing girls were backing away from him. I was starting to geta little nervous myself.
"Look, I'll make sure she doesn't leave once you get her back. I'll evenhelp you get her back. Will that be tame enough for you?"
Well I'd been drinking for a few hours. I was a little bit tipsy and I'lladmit I was a little concerned as to what Jinn might do if I really pressedthe matter. I was pretty sure he was pulling a fast one on me here but in theend I agreed.
I have to warn you that trapping the Fey Folk out of season is illegal inall but 12 states. Whenever we elect a Democratic Congress again the fifthorder of business will no doubt be to place all Fey Folk on the endangeredspecies list and then trapping them will be illegal year round throughout thecountry. In the mean time Jinn gave me detailed instructions on how to constructa very humane and non-lethal Fairy trap. It consisted primarily of a partiallyburied bell jar with a silver thimbleful of spider webbing stretched acrossthe opening. The trap had to be baited with slightly fermented boysenberriessoaked for 24 hours in crème de menthe before being dipped in dark semisweetchocolate.
I immediately began catching all manner of Fairies and had to release a halfdozen of the disgruntled little creatures over the next few days before Bluefinally showed up.
To say that Blue was upset when she found herself trapped in a bell jar wouldbe an understatement. She screamed at me in a voice far louder than her tinybody should have been capable of. I had to move the bell jar inside and putit in the bedroom closet just so her shrieking wouldn't disturb the neighbors.
I trotted down to the ?Booby Trap? to check with Jinn and find out what wasnext on the agenda. He listened patiently as I described Blue's reaction tobeing trapped. He just didn't seem terribly sympathetic.
He told me if I was patient she'd come around in a little while. Of courseJinn has been hanging around for the better part of five millennium so a littlewhile in his book might be longer than I can wait.
When I pressed the matter he handed me a wolf spider.
?What the fuck?? I inquired politely.
Jinn explained that if I dropped the spider in Blue's bell jar it would haveher trussed up within a few hours. It tended to do some permanent damage toa fairy's wings but he could guarantee me that Blue would always be at my beckand call.
It looked like I was running low on options.
I couldn't exactly release her. She'd fly off for sure and I'd never see heragain.
What I really wish is I'd never gotten those three god damn wishes.
Jinn smiled, " So you finally figured out the perfect wish." Hesaid to me.
After that my memory got a little fuzzy?..
Okay now where was I?
Oh Yeah!
Blue and I are quite the team. We're not really about the sex. Well were not only aboutthe sex. No, honestly it's all about the stories. Together we come up withsome entertaining yarns. Besides she thinks I'm kind of cute for a big hairymonster. She says I'm a good listener.
It sounds ideal right? So what can the problem be, you ask?
Nothing! Really not a goddamn thing!
Now if you'll excuse me I'm off to the ?Booby Trap?. It's my favorite localGentlemen's club. A warm and welcoming place where I like to hang out whileI wait until Blue's ready to do another story. They have some very nice dancersthere to keep me entertained while I quaff adult beverages. Judging from theweight of my wallet I think I'd better stick with draft beer today, you neverknow how long you'll have to wait around for Blue.
When I got there I found my favorite stool at the edge of the dance stage.I sat down, winked at the dancer, and ordered a draft. I noticed a big bluishfellow drinking alone in the corner. He raised his glass to me and smiled.I almost went over to say Hi. I watched as all the dancing girls who were offduty wander over to his corner. They all started giggling, teasing him, andcarrying on. He seemed to be having a good time so I decided to leave wellenough alone.
© Mad Lews June 2005
With thanks to chksng19 for his editing assistance.
Louise
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