We'll Always Have...
Erwer, Narquel 23, 01125
She was at play and her heart was lifted to the heavens. A corona of bliss caressed her oiled skin at every gleeful step as she lightly tripped across the ground. Her bare feet barely touched the moist soil and the air made merry on her nakedness. A voice, deep and handsome, carried itself through the wind. “Nymph! I shall find you!”
“If you do,” she cried back, “you can have me, My Lord!”
The sound of his feet reached her ears and she knew the joyous chase was on. This game was her invention, a play on the rituals of fauns and satyrs and other creatures whom she called siblings. It made her glad to know that she could find pleasure in it playing it night after night with her one love. Her one true love.
She skipped through the trees under the moonlight, holding out her arms as if to surround the world with her attentions and desires. An arm appeared from behind a tree and pulled her into the embrace of a tall, strong man with smooth, hairless skin. Even in the dim light of the moon she could see the gold of his hair and his eyes and the delight in his smile. “Caught you, precious nymph!”
“Aye, my Lord, that you have! That you have!” Their lips met in happy union and their hearts beat together in a passion they had both known now for three years. In all their quiet life, tending sheep and working market neither had known satiation from the other, neither had ever felt they had gotten their fill. She always wanted more of him, more of him, and he still descended on her with a precious hunger. His hands roamed her bare buttocks and her hands roamed his broad back, loving the man who loved her.
“Will you marry me?” he gasped as they separated.
“Aye,” she said in familiar cadence. “Aye, three years ago I have!”
His mouth descended onto her flesh, his lips forming themselves to her shoulders, her throat, the delicate turn of her collarbone and then the soft, pale skin of her breasts. She ached to have his lips on her nipples and he knew how much she desired it. He teased her, his mouth circling one perfect orb, closing in on one hardened teat much as a hawk circles a Fields before diving. “You tease!” she whimpered.
He gave her what she sought as his lips and teeth enclosed their prey, and as white teeth made contact with pink flesh she arched her back and moaned with a purest desire for her lord and king. His tongue made merry on her nipple, a torture so wonderful she thought she might die from its application alone.
He relented, giving her a smile before seeking the other breast out, seeking out the other nipple. His fingers touched her thighs and made their ways upwards into the nest of golden hair between her thighs. While he distracted her with his lips his fingers found her nethers and opened her delicately. She felt her knees buckle as one finger invaded her and began conquering her. As always and as she wished it, he would have her to himself and he could do with her as he pleased. Her sex ran with her juices, a precious fluid any man in the world would desire, and he did. He ceased suckling her nipple just long enough to raise his fingers to his lips and lick them clean.
He still wore a simple cloak and tunic, and now spread those on the ground as to make a bed. “Kneel,” he said, and she did. He joined her, kneeling on the cloak with her, and their lovemaking continued. He kissed her lips and she tasted her juices on his tongue. That love, that sharing, made her burn all the more for him. His handsome rod jutted between them, truly a manhood fit for a kingdom, and yet he held it all in reserve for her.
“Please, my lord… Take me.”
He chuckled. “Nymphs are supposed to resist when a faun descends upon them.”
“I have resisted. I ran. I lost. You won. Take. Your. Prize.” Her breath came in desperate gasps. Her insides burned with need. Her nipples stood up and demanded attention. Her body shuddered with the power he created in her.
He gave in to her request without reluctance, laying her back upon the cloak and spreading her legs wide. “Are you ready, my beloved.”
“Are you ready?” he repeated, demanding and answer.
“Yes, yes, yes!” she screamed into the empty air. The creatures on every hillside nearby now knew of her need.
He plunged into her and her scream announced her complete fulfillment. She pulled him down on top of her and allowed his weight to crush her to the cool ground. His sex filled an emptiness within her, one she needed filled. One she needed satisfied, felt deprived without. His bucking body atop hers gave her that satisfaction and held her happiness within it as he urged her onwards. Her own climax was surely only moments away, and she could feel it rising, rising, rising like the sun was going to rise soon. Her body glowed with impending pleasure. “My lord!” she gasped.
“Are you near?” he said with a mischievous voice that said he was nowhere near himself. His body slowed.
“Yes… Yes, I am! Do not make me want for you any longer!”
“Then I will not.” He vanished.
Oenone bolted upright in bed, her chest tight, her thighs wet. Frustration and anger warred behind her breast, tore at her scarred heart. From beside her bed she grabbed the glass, hurled it, watched it strike the wall to shatter with unsatisfying finality. “PARIS!” she screamed to the ceiling, throwing her head back. “DAMN YOU TO HADES! DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU FOREVER!”
She collapsed back onto the bed, curling on her side into a fetal ball of pain. “Damn you,” she whispered. “Damn you, damn Helen, damn Aphrodite.” Tears rose in her eyes and pressed themselves down her cheek. “Damn you for Korythus. Damn you for making me want for you any longer.”
The tears continued. Sleep took a long time returning.