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New Year’s Muse

By Damian Bloodstone (damianbloodstone@gmail.com)

Copyright © 1/1/2013  All Rights Reserved.  This cannot be copied in whole or in part without the author’s sole express permission.

I sat in the darkness with the dancing firelight from the monitor.  Staring into that firelight made of only pixels and electrons, I became lost slowly in the soft music and warmth of the blanket around me.  Sipping my finger’s worth of rum from the glass, I smelled the scent of vanilla in the air from the candle that burned behind me.

It was another lonely night.  A very lonely night.  It was a night where couples and others would kiss to ring in the New Year a midst the music, falling balloons and confetti of the celebration.  The fireworks boomed and church bells rang in the distance heralding that appointed midnight hour.

I took another sip and closed my eyes.  I could smell the scent of her perfume in the room, a smell of spice with a hint of honeysuckle.

Her soft hands gently touched my shoulders and back in a light caress.  She moved around the sofa before pulling up the blanket and nestling under it beside me.  Such a welcomed thing.  She rested her head against my chest as I played with her long, dark hair.  She was a vision of delight.

Slowly she turned to face me, smiling that playful grin that always set that ember to burn within me.  I touched the delicate skin of her lips with my fingertip.  They parted.  She sucked it in for but a second until pulling away and softly laughing with a seductive smile.  Her dark eyes flashing in the faux firelight sent that silent signal of desire and love as she stretched and turned beside me.

“Take me,” she whispered.  “Make me yours.

I moved my hand to her bra, unfastening it.  Once removed, I began exploring her.  It was a true woman’s body with a mind that wanted and desired me alone.  The soft, smooth, warmth of her skin set my fingertips aflame.  The delicate change in the skin around her nipple, it felt so thin under my tender touch.  Her soft moan of budding excitement drove my pleasure higher.

She leaned up and placed her face close.  Looking deep into my eyes before closing her own, she touched her lips to mine.  Soft and warm, they nibbled and kissed. She begged mine to part grazing them with her hot, wet tongue.

I relented and tasted her.  She was as spicy as the rum we had both partaken in for New Years.  I kissed back, slowly letting her tongue touch mine.  Her kisses were always so much more, almost electric and yet never demanding.  I gently squeezed her breasts and heard her muffled moan as we kissed.  Inhaling her breath, we were of one being, united.  My hands moved, fingers dancing over her small breasts until they were warm and firm beneath my touch.  I caressed lower, pushing my thumbs into her belly, massaging deeply into those muscles that I knew would later tighten with her cries of ecstasy.  She had worn no panties, the naughty girl, but this she knew secretly I adored.  The gentle curve of her hips in my hands excited me.  I brushed my hand over her mound and smiled as she broke the kiss in her first soft cry.  Her velvet hair tempted and tantalized my fingers to explore what lay hidden from first sight.

She rolled off the sofa and away to the floor.  Looking up at me, slowly she knelt before me.  Grabbing my pajama top and unbuttoning it, she forced my legs apart.  Her body rested against my growing cock with only the thin fabric between us.  She pushed open the top and slowly stripped it from me.  Her fingertips ran down the length of my chest until encountering my waistband.

I could sense her breath even through the fabric of the pajama bottoms.  Her hands grasped the waistband and I arched so she could pull them away and off.  The softness of her against my inner thighs made me on fire.  She leaned back up over me for a single kiss before her lips traveled downward on my chest.  I moaned as she engulfed one nipple and then played with the other with her fingers.  My cock was between those small breasts.  She moved yet lower, I watched her nuzzle her cheek against my throbbing sex.

Her fingers explored my sac.  She licked up and down the shaft.  I leaned back my head, forcing myself to maintain control.  I wanted to enjoy this with her, but she wanted something of me.  The soft lips kissed the crown, embracing it, letting it slide slowly into her hot mouth.  I shook.  She took in all of me and licked with her tongue.  My moans guided her while her fingers fondled and mouth held me.  I tensed.  She suckled softly, then hard, her lips holding only the crown in her mouth.  Crying out softly, I trembled with my first release.  It always made me that much more attentive of her needs when she did this and allowed me to enjoy her even more.

She pulled off me after I had finished and just knelt a moment.  Her smile was that of delight and desire.  I watched her move, getting back on the sofa with me.  The sensation of her wetness dripping from her onto my legs only made me that much more excited.  She lied down across my lap with her rear facing me.  I playfully slapped it once, hearing her let out a low growl of protest that changed to a soft moan of pleasure.  My hands rubbed those soft mounds of muscle and flesh, fingers exploring and kneading them.  Then I moved to her thighs and down her legs.  She giggled while I stroked the back of her knees, and then went still as I stroked her inner thighs.  Her legs parted to my touch letting that musky scent of her arousal into the air.

My fingers probed her thick down, easily finding what they sought.  Her soft folds pouted hot, wet and slick with her fluids.  I slowly traced the edges of her nether lips and heard her moan.  My fingers moved around and between the inner and outer sets, teasing her and never reaching her covered clit.  I dipped my fingers between her hot softness and found her opening.  Carefully, I slid one finger into her, then another.  She moaned and arched as my thumb stroked the hood of her most sensitive spot.  I held her rear down, pressing her against my lap.  She squirmed in need.  My fingers pressed on the spot within as my thumb found her tender clit beneath them.  I heard her cry out, her body gripping my fingers.  I pulled them free of her after she had calmed and tasted her sweetness.

My empty glass fell from my hand causing my eyes to open.  I wiped away the two stray tears and picked up the glass.  I would write about her again tonight, my lovely muse, to take away this solitude.  I got up and placed the glass in the sink, turning to find a second glass on the counter with lipstick on it.  Hands, soft and warm caressed me and as I turned, I looked into her face.

“I was wondering when you would make me real; Happy New Year my love…”

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