****** Night's Song by Thisold1 ******
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Night's Song


His fingers brushed against my cheeks and a thousand slumbering monsters of
lust were awoken with but my moan. Fingertipped promises touching me as I had
feared this many years. Fingertips: Taunting me to become even more of me than
I wished to be. Softness. Joy. Wetness of lust overtaking me as fingertips
taunted and his lips softly touched mine to create a universe of our own
creation.

Breasts of wanting, heaving out in their cries for attention. Nipples, now
erect from the awakening of their long slumbering, giggled as a fingertip found
them and cast dreams of want and desire so deep into me. Me? A woman a moment
before, but now a child wildly wishing for all that this magic could give. A
woman of a child, blended together by too many years. The woman holding all at
a distance now surrendering to the child who craved the songs of his
fingertips.

Oh, mother moon, sweet Goddess of the night sky, why have you waited so long to
kiss him down to me? Have you now sent but torment upon the nocturnal winds so
that my breasts may cry back to you what these lips cannot?

His lips, now hot and yet as elusive as any thought, cast their spells upon the
yielding skin of my neck. Kiss by kiss, demand by demand I find reason to pull
his nakedness even closer to mine. Reasons of lust, reasons of need, all that
is logic has now been cast away for but the sweet of need and the lust of my
heaving breasts, screaming to me deep in my thoughts that the time had now come
to satisfy what I had dreaded for so very long.

A body that is mine, a night cast to him who casts lusty spells with but his
touch. Fingertips and lips, casting dreams upon my breasts as my hard nipples
sing to me. I am his to touch, to kiss and to fondle as the moon tip-toes
through the night that is now awakening to my own wetness of need and desire.

His hands roam over the soft skin of my breasts, leaving trails of fiery need
in their wake. Lips of delightful torture lick at my nipples as my body arches
up for him to take all of me as the moon taught me to sing to him with all my
body. The moon, a song and the touch of his, casting thoughts to the universe
as, with his kisses, he created but me.

Tortured thoughts of a woman gone wild by but her own sweet needs, I offer him
my body to fondle and kiss with his happy abandon. Lips upon lips; Lips upon
nipples erect, and now his demented kisses slowly moves down towards what had
been my slumbering womanhood. And with but one deep kiss upon a wet slit, the
moon herself held of breath in awe as to what her soft rays of light was
showing to her unblinking eyes so very far above.

A kiss up the left and then back down the other side as a moaned out gasp is
cast to heaven above. Kisses of hot pleasure and need he gives to me, the man
teaches me, the girl hidden deep inside, to laugh and live once again as the
moon now smiles down with envy in her eyes. I call out his name, and pines
whisper back but this lover's lullaby to accompany my moans and sobs.

With his hands beneath my hips, he lifts me deeper and deeper to his lips now
haunting the deepest corner of this heart of mine. Slowly his tongue enters me,
searching out the one spot I have dread his touching so much. A kiss and a
tickle and I am his, as his cast spells with his lips and tongue upon a spot
and a mind that both had forgotten the majesty and sweetness of such a
surrendering an the moon now sees cast out before her.

I look up at her so far above and now that, in this night of nights, there are
two Goddesses that now behold each other's delight. She, the mother of the
night and stars, has cast wetness of dew drops from within my body and mind, as
his creates bliss without spoken words. The playful tongue, soft as wispy
clouds upon high, claims me as a victim of the rhapsody which sings out of his
needs, wants and even fears.

Slowly, as the morning kisses the distant horizon, he becomes a part of me by
entering into the wet depths he created this night before the moon and stars
above. Deeper and deeper he claims as the nightingale sings to this heart of
mine her softest songs. Oh, my god, above, how could I have slept for so long
and dwelled in fear of but the sound of the Night's song?

My moans and cries shout of my body's happiness as the mind lets go and rides
upon nocturnal winds that blow from in this heart that burns with a favor I
have seldom known and even less allowed to be accepted. Love lust and I,
together we journey upon the sea, pushed onwards by his strokes and whispered
moans giving to me to please but my mind.

Songs we sing, names we moaned to each as the morning came to cast its light
upon two people who had shared the warm lust of each and, in so doing, melted
to each to form but a teardrop of love for the Goddess moon to cast down to
this earth on another night when life is needed to fulfill this Night's song.

This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories.
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