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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1933166-That-Old-Black-Magic
by John
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Erotica · #1933166
Erotica fantasy story of love in a strange and exotic world. Sexually graphic.
Scarlet poppies were splashed across the green meadows over the rise of land which stretched upward toward the aqua sky. I stood below the rise gazing into a shimmering mirror of pool at my reflection. A ring of oddly shaped rocks surrounded the pool. Some were shaped like mushrooms, others like phalluses.

I longed for my beloved Tristan as I breathed his name like the murmur of a dream. We had danced through the millennia together through our reincarnations. We always found each other no matter how far apart on the planet we were born. Morning wonder sighed through my heart which throbbed only for him.

I looked up across the meadow and watched rippling waves form passing through the fields of poppies as the warm wind rushed across them.

Soon the noon sun cast its warm rays upon my bare body. Looking down I saw my reflection in the pool superimposed on the image of scarlet poppies and sparkles of golden sunlight. My long curly black tresses of hair fell down around my shoulders in a luxuriant canopy. My supple breasts and dark nipples seemed to sparkle, as though coated in thousands of tiny diamonds of reflected sunlight.

As I crouched over the pool I could see the curve of my hips and thighs which seemed suspended above the crimson poppies reflected in the dark water. I crouched there balanced on the soles of my feet, my arms wrapped around my knees seemingly in a trance.

Clouds passed over me casting shadows. The clouds were fringed with a lace of fiery golden light as they blocked the sun. When they passed, I was once more immersed in a bath of solar warmth. I watched silently as the sun made its path across the sky. Soon the sun sank below the rise of land, leaving it in a sea of darkness. The sky to the west turned crimson and the clouds appeared to be on fire with flecks of purple, gold, and red.

Venus emerged in the night sky, a bright white gem shining in the west. The summer night breezes were warm and brushed against my skin softly. The full moon rose above me casting its pale yellow light on my fevered skin. I felt warmth rise from my belly through my body, swelling through my arms, legs, hips and thighs. I clad myself in pink panties, my only conession to protection from prying night eyes. I began to sink into a blissful sleep.

I woke in the still of midnight gazing up at her face. I muttered under my breath, “Morgana.” She looked down at me with her wide oval eyes black like tiny coals and her impish smile. Her slim body was covered in a green chemise embroidered in tiny purple and red flowers. A large pink orchid was emblazoned on her bare belly, exposed by a gap in the chemise. I saw her tiny belly button move in and out with each of her excited breaths. In her hair, outlined in the moonlight, were lilies and vines covered in tiny purple flowers.

I knew that behind this appearance of beauty was Morgana Le Fay, the sorceress of black magic who bewitched men and women, seducing them and rendering them powerless to her will. I felt fear that she would entrap me with her dark powers bending my will and turning me into her slave. But I knew that as a fellow fairy spirit I had power too. Perhaps I would be strong enough to resist her.

I lay curled on my side, my left leg lying across my right and my head resting on my arm. She gazed

at me with a wicked smile as though sizing me up. I was frozen in fright lying there exposed and helpless. She crouched beside me holding my chin and looking into my eyes.

I felt the power which emanated from her obsidian eyes as her gaze pierced me. I felt warmth rising from my loins as she stroked my thighs and turned my head, kissing the nape of my neck and biting gently. I felt the tingles of pleasure envelope me as she licked my lips, tracing them with her tongue.

I stood bending like a cattail in the wind with my lithe willow body so pliable. She put her hand on the crown of my head pushing me to the ground. She reached between my inner thighs and tugged my panties to the side. She dipped her hummingbird tongue into my sweet pollen licking the nectar from my stamen. Her bewitching eyes were said to render men and women helpless. I closed my eyes to conceal the flames of my passion.

Her gaze penetrated my resistence compelling me to part my legs to receive her Pentecostal tongue. My rosy dew dappled petals glistened like Orion’s nebula, a star nursery and womb of worlds. The tender blossom of my sex was engulfed in tropic heat. Each touch of her hand surged like ocean currents in my primeval sea.

With her ruby lips she kissed my orchid softly ringing my stamen. She encircled me in succulent caress. I clenched madly as my star imploded deep in the crux of my thighs. Her tongue of flame touched the bud of my youth in a baptism of fire.

I floated like a leaf in a distant sea. The motion of her body soothed me with the sweetness of her rocking. She called to my wild heart, humming a melody, to sing me into surrender.

On the verge of tears I pleaded for mercy. I knew that soon I would be marked as hers, her puppet for eternity. I felt my will subsiding, dissolving into her power. As she touched me hypnotizing me with her eyes, I felt the sudden urge to surrender. Tears flowed down my eyes as I felt my identity merging into hers. Her thoughts became mine and mine hers.

I saw images of the men and women she had enslaved. They surrounded her caressing her as she stood above them gripping a frightened woman’s hair, as a naked man kissed her feet groveling before her. I saw my beloved fairy man, Tristan, in chains lying at Morgana’s feet. It was almost more than I could bear.

I longed to touch Tristan and release him. If only I could somehow send my message of love to him. I knew that if I surrendered no more would I wander the streams and woods in timeless bliss. No more would I dance around the may pole with the other nymphs celebrating the spring and the renewal of my covenant with the Goddess. My mind was almost hers by then.

Then I heard a tiny voice in my mind. It was the fairy queen. She whispered soothing words and reassured me that I need not give up so easily. She told me that Morgana had a weakness which would render her helpless, if I could but find it.

As my passion peaked, I saw Morgana’s aura shining like a cocoon of rainbow light. Her body appeared as bands of light with a row of glowing spheres running up and down where her spine was. I reached out into the darkness and grasped the sphere at the base of her spine. The other sphere’s seemed to pulsate as I did this. I felt her body writhing in my grip as I touched her.

I led her writhing body into the pool. I pushed her down and she lay floating in the pool. Her aura seemed to vibrate with energy as I ran my hand up and down the spheres of her spine. The colors of her aura danced across her body as I played her like a flute. I felt emanations from her and knew that now she was under my spell. I had found the energy center where the nexus of her powers lay. I felt her body shake violently as the rainbow bands of color flared brightly.

The sphere at the bottom of her spine soon shined brighter than the sun. In the soft moonlight I saw her ruby lips part and heard an animal cat like scream rip from deep in her gut. Then the bright star at the base of her spine faded to its previous brilliance. I found that by touching her in different spots her aura responded. Gleefully I held her floating in the water with my left hand, as my right hand played her like a violin. She squirmed giggling as I held her there, taking my time and enjoying the power I had regained and now exercised over her.

The stars began to fade overhead and I picked her up out of the water in my arms. She lay in my arms exhausted and asleep. I laid her down outside the circle of rocks in a patch of grass surrounded by orchids, as she lay smiling, in a state of complete pleasure and submission.

The sun rose in the sky and I watched across the rise in the land as a band of laughing nymphs danced through the poppy fields, their bodies glistening in the sunlight. I joined them and we ran laughing holding hands, hugging, kissing, and dancing with each other. No longer would we have to fear Morgana and her dark powers. We danced around Morgana’s sleeping body until noon.

Tristan appeared, over the rise, like a heavenly vision. My ancient lover had reincarnated to join me once more in this new world. He appeared to fly on angel’s wings. My heart rejoiced, like a butterfly taking flight. We walked through green grass by a rolling stream. I felt the moist earth under my bare feet. Reborn into a new body he was still a virgin and was innocent to the ways of intimacy.

I inveigled him, “Do you know what this is?” I placed his hand between my thighs. Tristan blushed and I touched his cheek with my hand. “Tristan, my love, don’t be embarrassed. I am woman. I am the source of your deepest pleasure. I love you dearly.”

With my right hand, I reached behind him and brushed his buttocks with feather soft strokes. I felt him begin to quiver like a fawn. He must have sensed the knowledge I was about to impart in him. I love patted and began kneading his bottom to relax his virgin modesty.

I knelt and kissed the moist tip of his penis, swirling my tongue around his royal crown, as he rose to the occasion. I girdled his prick in my rosebud lips, enfolding the tip in soft tropical wetness. I hefted his delicate family jewels in my palm and clasped them, rolling them tenderly with my velvety fingertips.

With my warm wet tongue, I followed a sinuous path up his rising prominence. I gently teased the sensitive underside of his cock-crest, my roseate lips clutching his dew dropped tip in a sultry sea silk cocoon. His star seeds burst like pollen savored like

honeysuckle nectar upon my psychedelic tongue. I lifted my face gazing up at him with a wicked grin. I knew my lips glistened with his nectar in the sunlight. My appetite had been whetted and I was hungry for more.

Hence I led him by the hand to a cozy bed of clover. There I laid him down, on his back, and crouched bestride his face. His face was locked in embrace between my thighs. His lips tasted my nectar and my diadem of woman which throbbed like a pulsating star. His tongue sent messages of love through my glowing body. Energy in the web of life raged between our electrified bodies. My mind dissolved into misty eyed heat.

I pressed my fragrant folds tightly onto his lips, impaling myself on his eager tongue. He gasped, his face firmly clasped in the cusp of my thighs. I moaned softly feeling his face immersed in my wet darkness. I inhaled my pungent aroma, as my femininity eclipsed his masculinity. Thus began Tristan’s lessons, as my acolyte, with me his priestess, in our church of sensuality.



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