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Violet Mist
By Toran
She comes to me, as the sun slides beneath the trees in the west.� At first it is the whisper of the breeze as it races through the pine needles and caresses my skin.� I close my eyes against the violet sky and lay back on the bedroll.� And listen to her on the wind.
She comes to me, in the warm, exotic heat that presses against me on the cool side, the side that is furthest from the fire.� All around me the pockets of night chill in the glade begin to form and float and merge, and it is the shadow of her warmth that heats my body.
She comes to me, the crackles from the fire gone, but the snap of twigs near, as she swells from the far tree-line then drifts towards me, her almond eyes, her long flowing brown hair, her smile. �Her power.
Like mist laying cover on the cooling ground, her hand reaches out and takes mine.� Her eyes are dancing and her lips feel soft as I brush them with mine.� I smell her hair, her skin, feel her warm body pressed against me, the swell of her breasts, her little nipples hard on my chest, her hips rubbing me softly, urgently.� She gently lifts me to my feet, her hands locking behind my neck, her tongue in my mouth and her scent filling my world.
We dance, slowly, never a space between our bodies, our eyes filled with the other.� Around and around the fire, beneath the stars, the twilight chill cooling the musky sweat that clings to her white gauze dress.� When our lips have gotten their fill and the hunger that we�ve been keeping at bay growls from deep inside, I pull her down and lay her on the padded roll, her hair framing her face for the moonlight.
I pull the dress aside, the material separating easily, and kiss the tender nipples of her breasts.� She arches her back and I bite, softly.� Her moan is low and fuels my fire.� Her hand takes mine and directs it to the dark patch of hair between her slender legs.� I slide a finger deep into her warm moist flesh and she shudders, her hand grabbing for my hair.� She pulls me up by the back of my neck and I plunge into her mouth, my tongue driving hers back and forth.� Her hands rub my naked ass and the sharp sting forces a moan from me.
Taking my shoulders in both hands, she rolls me down beside her.� As I look up into the world of stars, she slides atop me, sitting across my pelvis so that I slide inside her easily.� Her face turned up to the indigo sky, she starts the rhythm, my hands finding the warm softness of her breasts.� One of her hands snakes back behind her and cups my balls and with each rise of her hips, she squeezes, her fingernails catching and pinching my sensitive flesh.� I close my eyes and see her beneath the lids, this Goddess who�s power rolls over me and consumes and blankets me until I am nothing more than flesh and nerves and � Hers.
The steady motion of her hips builds until she is riding me with abandon and her shriek pierces the murky glade.� One hard twist of her fingernails in the folds of flesh that hold my balls, and my cry mixes with hers.� She collapses on top of me, her soft weight melting into me as a warm giggling blanket.� She lays her head on my chest and nibbles on a nipple, the smell of her hair filling me.� I run a hand down the curve of her hip to the swell of her ass and give her a crack.� Her head pops up and I am lost in her eyes.� She pulls the deerskin cover over us and I fall asleep, smelling her, feeling her, content in her circle of power.
Like mist rising from the early dawn lake, she is gone as the first light of the Sun touches the clearing.� I am left with the memory of her smell, her touch, her eyes.� She will return, when the moon again rules the sky with the stars Her minions, she will again come to me.� To love me, and to be loved.
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