A Muse by Any Other Name Would Spell as Sweet
- 2 years ago
- 19
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By the time they had reached the Krell barracks again, the sunlamps had turned off entirely, the torus lit only by the yellow glow of lights that were made to resemble streetlamps. Tepin appreciated the twilight, simulating day and night like this must help enormously with the sleep cycles of the crew. There was nothing more disorienting than not knowing what time of the day it was, and trying to sleep in the glare of bright lights. His time aboard the Teth’rak’s Fang had taught him that all too well...
He wasn’t sure why Theesah had brought him back here, but he was glad to spend more time with her. She certainly seemed to have grown possessive of him throughout the day.
Tepin ducked under the doorway as she lumbered inside, the panel sliding shut behind them automatically after a considerable delay, the sensor waiting until her dragging tail had cleared the threshold. The familiar warmth and humidity was welcome, spending too much time on the torus made him feel like he was about to dry out. The interior was just as they had left it, the cluster of shallow pools in the center of the building occupied by piles of dozing reptiles, lying atop one another in a listless heap as they bathed in the heat of the lamps above. There was a little more activity now, he could see that a few of the recesses in the rooms that they passed by were now occupied. The Krell had dropped down into the cushion-lined bowls, curling up into balls, some of them sharing with their neighbors in spite of there being unoccupied beds nearby. They were certainly social creatures.
Theesah returned to the quarters that they had visited prior, situated in one of the many identical corridors that branched off the expansive main room. It was still empty, if she had any roommates who usually occupied the other recesses, then they weren’t here right now. Perhaps they were on-duty, or maybe they had joined the pile in the basking pools.
He hopped down from her shoulder, watching as she made her way over to what he could only presume was her locker once again. She withdrew another of the carved, wooden chests, this one similar in appearance to the one that she had used to assemble the necklace that he was still wearing. It had the same wood paneling, the same frayed rope holding the lid shut. The only noticeable difference was the relief on the lid. It was pictures of flowers and gnarled trees, rather than a carving of frolicking Krell.
Theesah set the heavy box down beside one of the recesses, beginning to unfasten the rope, opening the lid to reveal that it contained perhaps ten wooden vessels. They were large, Krell-sized, each one corked with something that resembled tree bark. It was impossible to see what they contained, Tepin inching closer to get a look as she began to turn one of the plugs.
It came loose with a pop, the Krell setting it down beside her before pulling another from the box. Before long, she had assembled a collection of six containers, each one uncorked. Tepin leaned over to see inside one of the sculpted, wooden pots. It was full of colored liquid, thick and viscous. As he examined them, he realized that each one contained a different color, from a vibrant yellow to a deep blue. Was this food? Some kind of paint? Why was Theesah showing these to him?
“What are they?” he asked, Theesah meeting his curious gaze. She raised her hands in the air, miming a circle with them. “A circle?” he continued, confused. “I don’t understand...”
She dipped her hand into one of the pots, withdrawing fingers that had been soaked in the red liquid. It was some kind of dye or pigment, his paint guess had been pretty close. What was she going to paint?
He watched as she leaned forward, beginning to draw a crude circle on the white material that made up the deck. When she was done, she placed her fist on the outside, then gestured to Tepin before moving it inside the red line.
“I am ... inside a circle?” he asked skeptically. “What does that mean?”
She dipped her fingers into a different pot, this one full of dark green pigment, beginning to draw within the circle. Tepin found himself hoping that the dye would wash off, he didn’t see any other pictograms in the room, and he doubted that the Coalition sanctioned graffiti. Theesah was drawing lizards ... no, Krell. There were half a dozen of them within the red circle, their depiction similar to those that had been carved into the lid of the necklace box. The perspective was odd, they reminded him of the primitive cave paintings that were sometimes found in the mountains of Valbara.
Theesah put her fist on the outside of the circle again, then moved it inside, peering down at him expectantly.
“The Krell are inside the circle, and you want me to be in there too?” he asked with a flurry of confused feathers. “What does the circle signify?”
She opened her arms wide, then brought her closed fists to her chest. This was important to her, it meant something significant. Perhaps the circle signified friendship, community, or family. As a Valbara’nay, he was already familiar with the concept of a flock, a family that one elected to join. Was he being invited into Theesah’s flock?
His hand wandered to the chunky, wooden pendant on his necklace, his feathers fluttering pink. Theesah seemed to guess from his expression that he had understood, her fat tail slapping against the floor happily. She reached towards him, her arm as long as he was tall, taking him gently by the wrist and guiding him closer. Before he could object, she plunged his hand into one of the wooden pots, Tepin grimacing as he felt the odd substance seep around his fingers. It was cool and viscous, very much like oil paint, and he withdrew his hand to see that his scales were stained with the red substance.
“Do I ... paint with it?” he asked, holding his hand over the pot so that the pigment didn’t drip on the floor.
Theesah seemed to consider for a moment, then she lay down heavily on her side, the impact making both the ground beneath his feet and her chubby underbelly shake. She looked much like she had when he had painted her in the planter, the impressive musculature of her arms and chest on display, her long tail coiled around behind him. He felt the heavy appendage tap his back, urging him closer, her yellow eyes watching him expectantly as he took a couple of hesitant steps towards her.
“You want me to paint ... you?” he asked, his feathers erupting in a deep shade of pink. She took his hand, guiding it towards her beige underside, her seven fingers already stained with the red dye. His digits sank deep into the soft flesh just beneath her chest, his eyes widening as his hand disappeared up to the wrist. Beneath the yielding layer of fat and her glass-smooth scales, he could feel the beginnings of her abdominal muscles. The knots of firm tissue were larger than his fist, flexing as his claws reached them. When she released him, and he pulled back, he left a red imprint of his hand behind.
He swallowed conspicuously as he glanced up at her face, his pink feathers standing erect, the eye-spots bobbing in the air. Was this some kind of initiation rite? A Krell ritual of sorts?
“W-What should I paint?” he stammered, “just handprints?”
She shook her head, leaning over to dip her hand into one of the pots, coating her fingers in yellow dye. This was rapidly becoming very messy. She brought it to her chest, painting a series of dots that ran down between her slab-like pectoral muscles. She waited expectantly as if that should be all the explanation that he needed.
“Okay ... so ... patterns?” he wondered. He extended an uncertain hand towards her underbelly again, his fingers trembling. He was painting on the naked scales of a Krell, of all things. He could hardly contain himself, he didn’t know whether he wanted to hide, or if he wanted to plunge both of his hands into her inviting flesh. This wasn’t necessarily sexual, he had to keep that at the forefront of his mind. The Krell were aliens, he had already seen that their ideas of personal space differed from his own. It was possible that their sense of modesty and what boundaries could be safely crossed differed too. This was just some kind of ... tribal rite, something to induct him into her social group, nothing more.
He had to try to keep his mind off the silkiness of her scales, her perfectly chiseled muscles, or he’d get a damned eversion. This was a canvas just like any other, albeit a living one ... that was warm and smooth to the touch ... attached to the very incarnation of Valbara’nay beauty...
Art, art was the only thing that could hold his attention now. He would turn her belly into a masterpiece, even if he didn’t fully understand what she expected of him.
He turned and peered down into the wooden pots, selecting the dark green pigment and dipping his finger into the liquid. His fingers moved just as they did when he was using his visor, he was no stranger to using a physical medium, though he preferred to paint with a brush rather than his own claws...
Trying to ignore the way that his finger created a wonderful indent in her belly, he drew the stalks of a plant, flowing and intertwining with one another as they traveled down towards her waistline. He stopped just short of it, the Krell didn’t have any visible genitalia, but he didn’t want to push his luck. Theesah watched all the while. She seemed curious, but she never tried to stop him, so he must be doing something right.
Having only a few simple colors to work with was limiting, and he had no palette upon which to mix them, but he did his best. He added blooming flowers to the stalks in hues of deep red, the same that he had painted on the torus, as they were still fresh in his mind. He remembered every detail of their folded petals, reproducing them as best he could manage with so few tools at his disposal. As he became engrossed in his work, adding a few yellow buds to the piece, he could almost ignore the fact that he was drawing on a sixteen-foot-long alien.
He stepped back to admire his work, it wasn’t half bad. Theesah seemed to like it too, her eyes widening as she appraised the flowing stalks and the intricate petals.
“H-how’s that?” he asked, wondering if he had done it right. She warbled her approval, then took his wrist again, dipping it into the blue ink and planting his hand into the meat of her inner thigh. His feathers flared as his fingers sank into it, the mosaic of smooth scales deforming, her flesh spilling between his digits. Deep beneath the layer of cushion, he felt muscles like steel flex at his touch, rising up from beneath the surface to greet him. How he had admired these stout thighs, and now he was touching them, his heart racing in his chest as he dared to test their firmness. It was as though they had been hewn from stone, so impossibly hard. How could someone be at once so soft, and so firm?
She released him, and he lingered there for a moment, admiring a dimple that her muscles created in her scales before realizing what he was doing. He pulled away, leaving a conspicuous handprint behind him. The inner thighs were an erogenous zone to his people, was that true for hers, or was he reading too deeply into this?
“Oh ... oh dear,” he mumbled as his feathers flashed purple. He examined his hand, realizing that substance was staining his fingers. “Does this stuff come off? Are people going to be able to see that we’ve been ... that I’ve been ... touching you?”
She warbled happily, her amber eyes watching him gleefully. Once again, she guided one of his hands into a pot of yellow pigment, releasing it and waiting for him to continue.
“I suppose you want more handprints,” he muttered.
Theesah slapped her fat tail on the floor contentedly as his hand ran along her stomach, leaving a smear of yellow in his wake. He was growing a little more confident as he went. She wanted to be touched, she wanted him to leave his mark on her. Why? Was this really part of some initiation ritual, or was it something more?
Her vast body was a playground for his comparatively tiny fingers. So much flesh, so much muscle, the wonderfully varied textures of tough leather and flush scales. His violet eyes wandered down to her tail, and he wondered if she would permit him to touch it. Like her thighs, it was another feature that he found irresistible. It was packed with so much muscle, so powerful that it could drive her massive body through the water effortlessly, sheathed in a layer of pillowy fat despite its strength.
It wasn’t as though he could surreptitiously slip a hand down there, her body was too long for that, he had to walk a few steps to reach it.
He thanked his stars that she didn’t speak the language of feather displays, his pink plumes were advertising his embarrassment and his arousal with their involuntary flashing. He had never been good at keeping his emotions in check, especially when an attractive woman was putting the moves on him. That usually came in the form of a sordid whisper, a lingering glance, or a tap on the rump from a more brazen suitor. Tepin had never ended up in a situation like this before, painting a woman, running his hands across her body...
With a start, he realized that he was fully everted, his engorged hemipenis straining against the fabric of his tight shorts. Praying that Theesah wouldn’t notice, he moved down her body, pausing to leave colorful handprints and simple floral patterns as he went.
His heart pounded in his chest as his hand wandered between her legs, his palm brushing the base of her tail. It was as thick around as a stout tree trunk, just as packed with fat and muscle as he had imagined. Despite the overlapping scutes that ran down its upper side, the underside was smooth and fleshy, his fingers sinking into her fat. It was so impossibly supple, he could fill his palm with it. Tepin’s eyelids fluttered as the fabric of his shorts brushed against his eversion, stimulating his sensitive shafts. He was becoming far too excited, this was getting out of hand. At this point, was he not just exploiting his new friend?
He pulled away reluctantly, leaving a trail of multi-colored hand and fingerprints that wandered down her belly, his arousal only growing as his eyes played over them. Everywhere that his hands had been was clearly marked on her voluptuous body. His fingers were stained with the stuff, who knew when it would wear off?
“O-Okay,” he stammered, Theesah peering at him as her amber eyes caught the light. “I’m done, right? Am I ... in the circle now?”
She rose to a sitting position, looming over him, her massive figure casting him into dark shadow as it blocked out the light from the lamp above them. She reached down and gently tugged at his flowing tunic, Tepin’s feathers flashing pink again.
“You want to paint ‘me’ now? I don’t know if...”
Theesah was persistent, warbling at him as she cocked her head in confusion. She didn’t understand why he was refusing, her rite was only half-complete. He might insult her if he didn’t follow through, she might think that he was rejecting her friendship.
“Alright,” he conceded, the Krell huffing happily as he began to pull off his tunic. He had to wonder what she made of him as he exposed his smooth torso, his scales still shining and reflective from the last time that he had waxed them.
As a Valbara’nay male, Tepin had the firm, round rump and the smooth thighs that characterized his gender. He worked hard to maintain his figure, exercising regularly, trying to strengthen his core and his legs. His stomach was flat and toned, his green hide tapering to a lighter cream on his belly, extending to his inner thighs and down the underside of his tail.
His tunic now discarded on the floor beside him, Theesah’s hands moved to the pots, the Krell coating her fingers liberally. Tepin wasn’t sure what to do, so he just stood there, his eversion seeming to brush against the fabric of his shorts with his every breath as his pink feathers remained erect.
He flinched as her fingers brushed his flat chest, so large, but so gentle. Handprints weren’t really on the table, as hers would pretty much cover his entire torso, so she began to paint on him instead. His scales were sensitive, ticklish, shivers rolling down his spine as her dull claws brushed them. She was painting him with strange runes and geometric patterns of unknown meaning. They followed the natural contours of his body, the Krell pausing to paint a floral pattern around his navel. He twitched and twisted, struggling to keep still, his breathing growing heavier as she crawled slowly towards the conspicuous bulge in his shorts.
Damn the females for making him think that he always needed to show off his rump and his thighs, there was no way that Theesah could miss it.
As she moved down to his waistline, she attempted to curl a finger beneath the elastic. It was like trying to undress a doll for her. Tepin reached down and eased her away, his plumes flashing in shades of purple and yellow.
“H-Hang on,” he mumbled, flustered by her tugging. “I don’t think ... I’m not sure that...”
She succeeded in hooking a finger around his shorts, beginning to pull them down his thighs, Tepin’s knees going weak as the fabric rubbed against his tender shafts. He covered himself, using the feathers on his forearm to obscure his lower body as his member bounced free. Theesah cocked her head at him, Tepin taking a step back as she tried to part his feathers.
“I get that you want to paint my legs,” he began, “b-but I don’t think that you need to...”
As she gently parted his feathers, her yellow eyes fixed on his hemipenis. It was a fleshy, two-pronged fork covered in dull barbs, little more than bumps. It was about four inches long, two for the main shaft, and two more where it split into two tapered glans. The organ usually remained inside his genital slit, engorging and everting when he became aroused. With no skin or covering to protect it, it was extremely sensitive.
There were two channels cut into the outside of the organ, ending at each glans. During ejaculation, the semen would travel along the outside of the penis. Said channels were currently leaking strands of clear, watery fluid, Tepin covering his face in embarrassment as Theesah examined his alien anatomy. He had no idea what the Krell equivalent looked like.
She made a low rumbling sound that he could feel in his very bones, and when he finally moved his hands away from his face, he saw that her long snout was only inches away from his member. She peered up at him with those amber eyes, her warm breath washing over his shafts, that alone enough to make him shiver.
“Aren’t ... you going to paint me?” he asked. Theesah reached out and began to draw on his inner thigh, Tepin struggling to stand on shaky legs, using his muscular tail to prop himself up. This was too much, she ‘had’ to know what she was doing, what effect she was having on him.
His member swelled and throbbed as her fingers stroked the sensitive scales in its vicinity, leaking more beads of glistening fluid, her yellow eyes watching him closely as though trying to gauge his reaction. His feathers were going haywire, waves of pink and yellow passing through his erect headdress, the eyespots catching the light as they waved back and forth. She moved to his belly, a scant inch above where his shaft emerged from his slit, painting a red crescent that she decorated with small dots.
Her snout rose up to his face, Tepin blinking at her through the haze of his arousal. Her lipless jaws parted, her interlocking teeth opening, the tip of her blue tongue emerging to lap at his slender neck. A flash of pleasure coursed through him like an electric shock, his knees very nearly giving out. Azure flesh glided against his throat, warm and slimy, damp with her saliva. She dragged it across his scales as though she was sampling his taste, or perhaps it was another ‘kiss’.
“What are you ... doing... ?” he murmured as she pulled back, her massive head seeming to hover in front of him. Her jaws parted again, that long, winding tongue snaking towards him. He felt it brush his scaly lips, its tapered tip probing, its azure surface glistening. Tepin couldn’t help but open his mouth, his heart skipping a beat as the slippery surface of her organ glided against his own. Its texture was incredibly soft and smooth, like wet velvet, strands of her saliva drooping from his chin as she pushed more of its length inside.
It explored him, its silky surface brushing against the roof of his mouth, the taste of it filling his head. He tried to meet her kiss, if that was what she was doing, his people had no equivalent. His tiny tongue paled in comparison to her wet, flexing muscle, Tepin suppressing a gag as its point pressed into his throat. It should alarm him, but something about this sordid act was intensely intimate, undeniably erotic. There was so much saliva, fat droplets of it sliding down his smooth chest, and why wouldn’t there be? She was so large that he could have fit his entire upper body in her mouth.
Theesah finally pulled out, Tepin trembling as he felt her soft flesh slide past his lips, a fat rope of her drool linking them together. It broke, falling to his chest to join the sheen that was collecting there, Tepin looking down to see that his member was more swollen and needy than ever.
“Is this ... part of the ritual?” he wondered aloud.
He flinched as she dragged her flat tongue across his belly, seeming to appreciate its polished texture, the flustered Valbara’nay failing to stifle an unbecoming moan. God, he sounded like some kind of lounge whore. He had more self-respect than that, shouldn’t he at least play a little hard to get?
Oh, who was he kidding? Who could deny this avatar of feminine beauty and strength? It was like a wet dream made real, he would never have imagined that he would end up in this situation, not in his wildest fantasies. To do so would be unforgivably self-indulgent, why would a Goddess show interest in him? Yet here she was...
“Do you really want to do this with ... me?” he asked in disbelief. “We’ve not known each other for more than a day, are all Krell this ... friendly?”
She licked his thigh, his head spinning, his hands wandering down to rest on her leathery snout as his feathers flashed.
“I’m so ... small. I don’t know what I could do for you...”
He trailed off as he felt her breath on his member once more, the Krell’s blue tongue snaking forth. Tepin’s claws dug into her in alarm as a wave of warmth and pleasure washed over him, but fortunately, she was far too tough for him to stand any chance of hurting her. Her silky organ dragged from the base of his member to his twin glans, wide enough to encompass him two or three times over, brushing against his thighs in the process. It just kept going, there was seemingly no end to it, her saliva making her contact slippery. His nerves were raw, exposed, his eyes forced shut by the throb of sensation as she lapped at him.
Theesah curled her long tail around behind him, gently lying him down, Tepin sinking into the appendage’s cushiony underside like it was an oversized couch. His upper back and his head were now nestled in her yielding fat, which seemed to mold around him like jump gel, his rump sitting on the cool deck as his own tail passed between his legs. Theesah poised above him, her blue tongue hanging from her mouth as she watched him expectantly. Was she waiting for permission to continue? Could he bear to ask such a thing of her, or would his embarrassment overcome him? His need was so great, he was trembling, still in disbelief.
He didn’t need to ask, she could see the desire in his eyes, her prehensile tongue returning to his loins. She licked at his shaft, running the tip of her organ between his glans, coating every inch of his tender flesh in her warm drool as she explored him. Tepin pushed back into the pillowy flesh of her tail, trying to stop himself from squirming, but her every glance and stroke made him shudder.
The weight of her tongue pressed his member against his smooth belly, tickling his scales, leaving a smear of saliva in its wake. Tepin couldn’t believe what was happening, he must be dreaming, surely? Every stroke of her hot, slimy tongue made his back arch and his tail curl, his clawed toes scraping against the deck. She watched him all the while with those yellow eyes, her every lick measured, knowing that she had the strength to hurt him and holding back. There was probably as much muscle in her tongue alone as most Valbara’nay had in their tails.
It was so flexible, she had such fine control over it, sneaking its tapered tip between his glans and curling it around his shaft. His member was so small in comparison that she had little choice but to encompass it entirely, pressing the flat of her tongue down on it, Tepin’s eyes rolling back into his head as he felt her silken flesh mold around his length like she was trying to take a cast of his manhood.
He couldn’t endure this for long, his eversion had been straining against his shorts long before she had begun her doting licking, his fluids were leaking out of him in a constant stream. As much as he craved relief from the pressure that was building within him, he didn’t want this to end.
His claws dug into her snout as she gave him another slow lick, her tongue sliding from the base of his member to the tips, spilling onto his stomach and thighs as it went. His feathers began to flash erratically, like a malfunctioning computer monitor, displaying patterns and colors that conveyed nonsense. He was so sensitive, so sore, a sweet ache permeating him to the core. With every stroke of her gentle tongue, tingling pleasure surged through him, building towards an inevitable crescendo.
Tepin’s spine arched, Theesah blinking at him as she felt his emission splash against her tongue, pressing it against his belly as a blend of his cloudy fluid and her viscous drool coated his own scales. His hemipenis throbbed and twitched with every wave of his climax, his muscles tensing, his legs trembling as he bit his lip to stifle a wail that might alert the other Krell.
He felt so ... hot, like his body was burning up, radiating outwards from his loins as he rode out his orgasm. His muscles ached as they contracted, forcing more of his seed from his heaving body, filling the space between her wet muscle and his flat stomach. As the intensity began to subside, he sank back into the paunch of her tail, softer than any bed that he had slept in. Her scales were so smooth, it made him feel like he was leaning against a giant, silk body pillow.
Theesah drew back, Tepin shivering as the sensation of her tongue dragging across his swollen loins provoked another stab of harsh pleasure, tearing through his afterglow like a hot knife. His eyes tracked the mess that they had made together, a sagging web of their blended fluids drooping from her tongue, the azure organ sliding back into her mouth. There was a pool of it on his stomach, Tepin running a claw through the syrupy concoction, his heart pounding in his ears.
He didn’t know what to say, and so he just lay there, shivering. Theesah drew closer again, nuzzling his cheek with her snout, the tip of her tongue emerging to lick his face affectionately. Almost reflexively, he reached up with trembling hands, stroking the skin beneath her jaw in the way that he knew she enjoyed.
“Is this ... all part of the ritual?” he murmured, “or are you doing this for me?”
She warbled softly, and although he couldn’t understand her alien vocalizations, the context was clear enough. This was no longer part of the initiation, Theesah was simply obeying her whims.
Tepin felt the floor vibrate beneath him as she rose to her feet, her long tail still cradling him as she took a step forward, then a second. The Krell crouched over him, her titanic thighs to either side of him, her chubby underside looming over his head like a scaly sky. She was large enough to block out the entire room. As she brought herself down within reach of his short arms, he realized what she expected of him.
Between her legs had appeared a slit. It was surrounded by thick, puffy lips that had become swollen with arousal, invisible under normal circumstances. Their swelling had exposed a thin sliver of blue flesh, no doubt her alien vulva.
As Tepin watched, a blue bulge began to part the lips, spreading them wider and wider. His breath caught in his throat as a cock that must have been over a foot long flopped down onto his chest, its weight almost enough to wind him, the flaccid shaft growing steadily firmer as it engorged. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, his feathers erupting in a display of pink and purple, his wide eyes playing across its length.
It was nearly as long as his arm, the fat, shovel-shaped glans bigger than his clenched fist. The smooth shaft was devoid of any veins or imperfections, so girthy that he might not have been able to get both hands around it, its tip already dribbling a strand of anticipation onto his scales. It was wet with something, making it slippery to the touch, the azure flesh catching what light Theesah’s massive body didn’t blot out. The monstrous organ throbbed, beating like a heart as it lay across his flat chest, growing warmer as it swelled with blood. That wasn’t a vulva, it was a genital slit. Theesah wasn’t female at all! In his appreciation of what to the Valbara’nay were feminine traits, Tepin had let his desire cloud his judgment, he had let himself be led around by the prong. How could he have failed to see this possibility coming? Of course aliens wouldn’t conform to Valbara’nay standards of beauty and gender, what an idiot he had been.
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While The Muse is Away... By Hypatia The noise of the forest was quite disconcerting; the jungle of a night is a place alive. The man though seemed untroubled by the movements around him; the passage of a large snake, a medium size boa, which stopped to investigate his groinal region, only produced a minor reaction. Through the night vision goggles, he looks down the road towards the compound. "They do make it so easy don't they," he whispers as he stands up, he is...
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...
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 SexInfatuationI stop when I see her. She looks up from her desk and smiles. I am lost, smitten, destroyed in that instant. For the rest of the day I can think of nothing else. I have become a mindless automaton at my desk thinking of her, unreachable. I see her in the car park, but she doesn’t notice me as she hurries home to another life, that other place I will never know. Disconsolate and depressed I go home to sit and try to regain my mind; to recover it from infatuation. I fail.Today she...
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...
Hi! I’m Anand, back with the next part of my story’ A Painter And His Muse’. For those who haven’t read the first part, please do so. Now coming to the story. Ananya was still in splits with the request made by Kailash. She was giving it a hard thought but was unable to fathom the fact that if she agrees to it then she’ll have to sit in front of her brother-in-law ‘nude’. In her bedroom when she was going through this over and over again. At the same time, Aditya came home and wanted to have...
IncestHi! 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....
IncestElsewhere in the mansion, a Shadowcat hunted. Moving with more stealth then any normal cat could hope to imitate, she went from the first floor to the second floor and finally up to the attic on the western side of the mansion. The eastern attic was assigned to Ororo Monroe, who had turned it into arboretum, which was allowed by the massive skylights in the roof of the mansion. The western attic was turned into a large studio apartment. The only piece of furniture was a very large, custom...
It was Friday evening. The antique grandfather clock in the dining room struck eleven and I was wide awake and much calmer than a few hours before. I finally had forced myself to put my anger into the background so I could think and plan my moves. Stay calm and collected I had said to myself over and over.I had already alerted Thalia to what had happened today and she had agreed to my general plan, the details of which I would have to work out before next midnight. Our future was at stake and I...
First TimeThe Fourth Session. Sometimes I fucking hate my friends. My throat is as dry as a bone, my stomach is in knots, my head is pounding and for the moment, I harbour an unusual hatred for sunshine. I have to drag myself out of bed just to make it to the bathroom for an aspirin, a glass of water and a hot shower. My headache fades quickly enough and the shower washes away my nausea, but the weakness is still there. I need three cups of tea before the caffeine kicks in hard enough to get me to...
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...
ExhibitionismMina's Musebylstorywriter©MINA's MUSE – by lstorywriterA companion story to ETHAN's RELUCTANT JOURNEY – by Mina24*****I'm Ethan and this story is about my relationship with my friend Mina from my point of view. She told her story through her eyes in the audio version of Ethan's Reluctant Journey. If you haven't listened to that story I highly recommend you do so before reading further. In her sultry and erotic way she includes all the proper disclaimers and warnings and if you're not at least...
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......
Truthfully, the three biggest thrills for me are: 1. Turning a straight guy into a cocksucker 2. Having a turned guy begging for the privilege to suck me again. 3. Taking a virgin's ass and depositing my load deep in it; conversely, my greatest perversion is to make a guy keep my cum in his ass while he is doing something with his woman. Every person is given a talent from the Lord. For whatever reason the Lord gave me the innate ability to make straight as arrow guys became the cocksuckers (or...
INFATUATION First let me tell you, my name is Joseph. This is a story of my past. I have been gay my entire life, but found that I always felt more comfortable around straight boys. But not just straight boys, young straight boys! Hanging around, talking sports and just being one of the guys. Gay guys made me feel uncomfortable. I wasn't one of those gays that flaunted my sexuality. Not that there's anything wrong with it. It's just I didn't want to 'act' like a queer. I was just...
“Res ... taur ... ant,” Tepin muttered as he read off the Earth’nay text on the establishment’s colorful awning from the safety of a planter. They sold food here, it was as good a place to start as any. Paying shouldn’t be a problem, he wasn’t sure what the currency conversion was like, but Valbara had been inducted into the Coalition’s economic zone. They couldn’t turn him away. He looked both ways before crossing the walkway, choosing his opportunity carefully. He was below the field of...
I had been on the internet for more than three hours, talking to a beautiful woman named Mary. She was hesitant at first, but eventually we shared photos and talked about our fantasies. She loved the name I was given at birth, "Vincent". It reminded her of simple times.She was very open-minded and had many kinky ideas, most of which made us giggle. I had previously been chatting with her for about two months, on and off. She really enjoyed having me around and after telling her everything I'd...
Chapter 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...
Sarah had met Stuart online and she said he had a very special talent. He was 42, Black 10 years older than us and hung. In the sixth months that we had been together, Sarah and I had enjoyed a MMF threesome with a mutual friend twice before, but it been a more conventional affair, both of us giving Sarah all of our attention, careful to avoid crossing swords. Sarah was dissatisfied with our love life and want to spice it up and I was willing to try something a little more kinky with a man who...
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...
The Third Session. ‘Can I see it?’ ‘No.’ ‘Come on, just a peek?’ ‘No.’ ‘Please?’ I’ve never seen a grown man pout or complain so much. Alex has been asking if he can see what the painting looks like so far for the past hour and I have barely finished painting in the basic design. He’d be getting on my nerves if he wasn’t so fucking sexy. ‘Didn’t anyone tell you that patience is a virtue?’ I ask him. ‘Yes,’ he answers. ‘But not one of mine.’ ‘Clearly, but I’ve told you before: it’s not...
The Fifth Session. The painting is finished. I came to the studio early this morning, practically at the crack of dawn, with a head full of ideas and once I sat before the canvas I couldn’t put my brush down. I’ve managed to curve the corner of his lips into the mischievous smirk that I’ve become all too familiar with. The last detail is the little twinkle in his eye, seducing Persephone into eating the pomegranate and sealing her fate. Once it’s done I can’t stop staring at it. I almost feel...
[i]Every longer story needs an ouverture, and “Black Ice” forms the upbeat for this one. Please read it as such, I’ve only allowed scoring after chapter 3, feeling you should read the whole thing before giving any scores. I’m much indebted to Damppanties and Alex- The_bragis for commenting on earlier drafts of this story. Hope you enjoy! PaulX35[/i] [b]I. Black Ice[/b] – “Fucking hell,” she said to herself. The view out the window wasn’t promising. From a slate grey sky the fine rain...
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...
--- Chapter 4: A muse in surgery --- The weeks after Halloween quickly turned into ordinary weeks. Kate continued operating and adjusting peoples faces; nose jobs, jawline fixes and the occasional boob surgery although that wasn't her main field of expertise. 'You need to keep an eye open for the other body parts', John always says. If one market goes slower, at least you still got a field open. Her being renowned on her realistic and human results made sure that she had a long list of...
My 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,...
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...
There was nothing for him to do. Sure, he could go for a run, which he did almost every morning. He ran the nearly five miles of beach to its end in North Wildwood and turned around and ran back to the Coast Guard Station and then back to the condo. When it was needed, which wasn’t very often, he cleaned the condo. There was no mail to speak of; his publishing company had all but written him off as a burned out author. He had used the last of his inventory of unpublished works over a year...
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...
Part 4 Gayu was still feeling shy, she did not want to look in to her FIL’s eyes directly, and did not want to take any kind of initiative. Suguna asks Gayu and Shankar to come out for dinner, Gayu tries to reach for her cloths, but Suguna says no need to wear any dress, Suguna takes shy Gayu holding her hand to dining table, makes Shankar and Gayu sit by each other side and she sits on the opposite side, all the dishes are kept on the table, Suguna asks Shankar to feed Gayu, and asks Gayu to...
Part 9 Both of them wake up at around 1PM, and go for lunch, they do enjoy good simple lunch, and sit and start chatting again, Ganesh first thanks Gayu for a wonderful bath she gave, he had always missed after his mom stopped giving bath to him. Gayu tells that, since you said you missed it I just wanted to give you a good bath like giving to a young kid, but I had not realised that you were a grown up kid. Gayu asks Ganesh, whether did he have sex with anyone before? He says know this was my...
Part 2 They all had lunch together, than Gayu went to her bed room with her hubby, and suguna with her hubby, as soon as Gayu went to the bed room and closed the door, she wanted to make love to her hubby, who again removed his dress and went under the bed spread and asked Gayu to join him, she wanted to removed her dress too but he refused saying if someone comes, and as soon as she came to the bed under the bedspread he pulled her went over her inserted his dick in Gayu’s pussy and 5 strokes...
We have all had them, a person who you became so enamoured with before even meeting them. Well here is the place to tell the story, the good or the bad Who the first one to be infatuated
Suguna was 45 years old and she had recently got divorced as her hubby found out that he cannot handle her as was very demanding sexually, and he was contended simple man and he had found someone who matched his requirement, they had a son Ganesh who was 18 years old studying in engineering and staying in the hostel 300 kms away and a daughter Shruti who was 22 years old, who had gone abroad for higher studies. They had left enough money for both the children that they don’t have to worry about...
Part 7 Ganesh & Gayu come out to the dining table, where the maid has already arranged for lunch, as per instruction from Gayu, a kheer or payasam & sweet also has been made for MIL’s son. They both have lunch slowly enjoying the delicious food. Gayu with small wicked smile without giving any hint to Ganesh asks whether Ganesh was able to take some rest. He says he slept well and woke up only she came to call him for lunch. Again the discussion goes back to the family, Gayu asks about the...
Tracy was home from Vegas after a week away with her girlfriends. Seeing her and being around her again, the events of the past few days—my deal with Simon—suddenly seemed like just a fantasy again, a rough dream. I was feeling guilty, and maybe thinking of it as a fantasy was just a way to ignore the guilt. We planned to go out to a bar for dinner, so I poured us both a glass of wine while Tracy showered and got ready. When I came into the bedroom she was sitting up in bed with her eyes...
Relatos Eroticos GaysContactos GaysSUEÑOS HUMEDOS(12476 lecturas - 3 comentarios)Publicado por dany6969 el 13 de Dic, 2012En la despedida de soltero del novio de mi hermana yo tenia 14 años.Cuando mi hermana y su novio se comprometieron en matrimonio, en casa no se hablama mas que de la boda por todos lados lo unico que escuchaba era de los preparativos y no me quedaba de otra que estar siempre en medio de todo escuchando lo que se decia.Cuando llegaron las amigas de mi hermana las vi que todas...
After Ganesh left, that night Gayu while lying down on the bed at night, was going through what all had happened in her life, she felt that though many things happened beyond her imagination, expectations & to an extant what she was really expecting to happen. However she did not feel remorse or guilty for whatever that had happened, on the other hand she felt that whatever had happened had brought her joy pleasure and satisfaction. She recalled all the happenings with MIL, FIL, Ganesh &...
Part 6 Life goes on smoothly for Gayu enjoying it the full with her FIL & MIL, she has now got addicted to sex, this goes on for more than 6 months, Suguna starts getting little restless because by nature she is not satisfied with whatever she has, she wants to always get spiced up, so she suggest to Shankar of going out of country for sex-adventure for a while, she also suggest that Gayu can be taken along with them, but somehow Gayu is not very keen. Finally they decide to go to a resort 100...
“Ah! Ah! Ah! Yes! Yes! Yes! Aaaahh!!” Gayathri screamed as Sammy came inside her. She felt her inside filled with his warm semen. She looked sideways as Sammy collapsed on top of her. He was still inside her and was licking her neck. She could see her bra, panty and clothes scattered everywhere. That morning when she woke her up she was a shy, conservative virgin, but now, she lay there naked, little blood trickling down her thighs, moaning with pain and pleasure as she had sex for the first...
We had very much fun hanging out in the evening. Gayatri had put on her favorite light blue salwar kameez, looking gorgeous. Her hair is done in a thick, silky braid reaching her waist. Kavita was well dressed, with her hair done in a monstrous braid-bun. Most people don’t even get one girl. Here I was, roaming with two beautiful ladies I was going to fuck in the night. We went to a restaurant for dinner where I could see many people staring at that monstrous bun of Kavita. I didn’t like men...