Who the hell would choose to be a writer? I hate it. I hate all of the doubt and insecurity. The constant fear of failure. The scathing self-analyses. My writing never seems to be good enough for me. I have all these great ideas in my head, which I can never seem to translate properly onto paper. And the worst part is when I sit here for hours, staring blankly at the rolling screen, unable to write even the simplest of sentences. I really wish I had a different calling. I’d drop this in a minute. If I could. But I can’t, because for some reason that remains unfathomable to me – the Muses have claimed me as their own. When I don’t write, there’s this aching in my heart, and I feel completely worthless, disconnected – and that is worse than all of the shit I go through when I write. When I write, I mean when I really get going, locked in my groove, totally swept away, so it’s just the words pouring out through me onto the screen – oh Gods, that’s the best feeling in the world! I can’t even begin to tell you what it’s like. It makes everything else worth it. Plus, there’s a lot of perks that come with writing – the adulation, the great thrill of seeing the finished work, the thought that maybe something you’ve written will live on after you, all of that and more.
One of the best perks, without question, is my Muse. I’m not really sure what her name is, or even if she has a name. I know in traditional mythology, the Nine Muses of Helicon were given names and areas to preside over. But they weren’t the only Muses, and my Muse doesn’t speak with a Greek accent. It’s actually more of a Midwestern twang. Sweet, playful, but with this wonderful sexy undercurrent. Like honey, warmed by the sun. That’s what her voice reminds me of.
Okay, I know what you’re thinking. He’s bat-fuck crazy. He actually thinks he has a Muse, who speaks to him. Or maybe he’s just being overly poetic, like silly writers often do. Well, no, I’m not being poetic. I really do speak with my Muse, and she speaks back. Not only do we talk, but we … uh … do other things as well. In fact, we just got done doing some of them, and she gave me permission to write about it. Which is what this is all about. Am I crazy? Probably. But you tell me …. with madness this good, would you *want* to be sane?
Today was another one of those awful days, when the blocks were up in force. Eventually, I just started typing the word “fuck”, so that it completely filled my screen, and then I sat there, pounding my head against the keyboard, hoping that I’d jar something loose, or knock myself into a coma. Whichever came first, I really didn’t care.
Then I felt a soft hand touch my shoulder, and someone lean in close to my ear, and they whispered, “You know, you’re going to hurt yourself if you keep that up.” And her warm breath against my ear sent shivers through my body.
I turned and looked into the smiling face of my Muse. She is so incredibly beautiful. Let me tell you about her. Her eyes are always the first thing you notice. They are large, and soft, and warm and bright green with gold flecks around the iris, and you just get lost in them, like they open out onto another world, that stretches on forever. And maybe they do, since she’s a Goddess. She has this perfect oval face, with the most sensual lips – so soft and full – and she has this adorable chin that just begs to be kissed. Her hair falls in a lush spray of golden curls, reaching to the small of her back. She’s all soft curves and delicious flesh, with the most incredible breasts, so that I love to hold her close to me, and feel them move against my chest. She always wears these silken gowns that shimmer as they slide along the contours of her body, and she smells of the outdoors, of the sun and earth and trees and wind. She really smells like wind.
“We don’t want that, now do we?” Mneme said, and güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri smiled at me. I have no idea what her name is, but that’s what I call her. It means “Remembrance” and was one of the names of the earliest Muses, before the Muses came to live on Helicon.
“Oh Gods, Mneme, I have missed you so much.” I cried out, reaching to take her hand in mine. She let herself be pulled to me, and then she climbed up on my lap, straddling me, and leaned close, resting her head on my shoulder. “Oh Sanny, I’ve missed you too.” I drank in the smell of her hair, and smiled.
“I haven’t been able to write anything.” I said, saddened, despite her presence. “I wish I had something to share with you.”
“I know, my Poet.” She said, turning to look up at me. “That’s why I’m here.”
She leaned forward and kissed me, her lips pressing against mine, coaxing mine open, letting her tongue slide out, across them. I kissed her back, and my hands went down to her sides, pulling her close to me. She wiggled against me, grinding her bottom into my lap, and I immediately stirred to life beneath her.
“I see your lap has missed me too.” She said, and I moaned, “Oh yeah,” and moved against her, to show her just how much it had. She sighed, and wiggled more, saying, “I have to make up for lost time, don’t I?”
“Oh yeah,” I replied absently, more an inarticulate noise, for I could think of nothing with her moving her body against me. She giggled, and then stopped, whispering into my ear, “How may I inspire you, my Poet?”
“Oh Mneme, you already are!” And then I kissed along her neck and shoulder, taking down the strap of her silken gown. My lips and beard traced the valley between her breasts, drawing moans from her. I licked across her full breasts, then took her hardening nipple between my lips, sucking it into my mouth, pressing my tongue against it.
Mneme let out a short gasp, and I pulled back, asking, “Did I hurt you?”
“Good,” I smiled.
“Unless you consider the ache of wanting hurting.”
“It can be the worst pain.” I returned to kissing her breasts, letting my hands find their way to her hips, pulling her closer to me. She ground her body against me, and then said, “I want you so bad, Sannion. Take me now.”
With that, she sat up, and waved her hand. The dingy little apartment room we had been in, cluttered with books and dishes, and dominated by a large computer desk, vanished. It was replaced by a room of soft light and silks. The walls were covered in pearl-pink swaths of silk, and there was a large canopied bed, of the same color. The room seemed to be a living thing, a place of softness, and light, the walls swaying as if with breath.
We stood before the bed for a moment, staring longingly at each other. I was naked, as she was, and my body ached to feel her touch. “I am yours to do with as you desire, Mistress.” I say, giving myself completely to my Muse.
“Oh no,” she laughed softly, reaching out and stroking my cheek. “I am your plaything for the night. For you are Sannion of the Mighty Pen and I am your little Muse to do with as you please.” The touch of her hand against my cheek, and the look in her eyes makes my heart brim over with joy.
“Well, in that case ….” I pushed her gently to the bed, and then knelt between her legs, which she spread for me. I slid my hands up her thighs, feeling her flesh, her warmth, the swell of her hips and belly. She blushed as I admired her beauty, exposed to me, and then I leaned forward, and kissed the lips of her sex, as I had kissed her other lips previously. My tongue darted out, tasting her. Her labia are so plump, full, and moisture had begun leaking out. I caught the drops with my tongue, licking them up. I kissed along her folds, running my tongue over her, darting into her to catch her juices, güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri but not entering her completely with my tongue. Her breath started coming shallower, and she would wiggle against me, as my tongue strained not to enter her, or passed over her small nub.
“Oh my,” she moaned, spreading her legs wider, “You are getting braver, my Poet.”
“I am, aren’t I?” My tongue pressed against her clitoris.
“Y-yes you are.” She said between groans. “Been practicing have you?”
“Well,” I smiled, “maybe just a little.” I let my tongue slide into her in a long, slow movement. She whimpered, and tilted her hips up, driving me deeper into me. “Sanny, O Sanny …. “
I reached up and cupped her ass, stabbing my tongue into her as I massaged her cheeks with my strong hands.
Gasping, she said, “More please. Oh Gods don’t stop.” My tongue found her clitoris again, and began teasing it. She writhed against me, reaching down and tugging on my hair. I took the little nub between my lips, and sucked on it like a tiny nipple.
That brought her to climax, her juices spilling past my mouth, into my beard, as her back arched, and her body quivered. I plunged my tongue deep inside her, drinking her juices, feeling her walls spasm in their climax. Her orgasm was too much, and she pushed my head away.
I smiled down on her, and began licking my lips, which tasted of her. “Oh Mneme, you taste so good.”
She reached up, and pulled me down onto her, kissing me deeply to taste herself on my lips. Then she rolled me over onto the silken bed, and straddled me. She looked so beautiful then, so passionate, drunk with lust, and glowing. She leaned down, her hair falling across my naked chest, and licked and kissed my neck. Then, growling, she nipped me, her bite not strong enough to draw blood, only enough to send a shiver through my body, and then she continued kissing down to the center of my chest. I smiled up at her, my hands resting on her hips, and said, “Take me, my Muse.”
She kissed me, driving her tongue into my mouth, twisting and rubbing it against me, as my hands slid over her hips and thighs and ass, up to the small of her back, moaning as she kissed me. She kissed and licked her way down my chest, beginning to suck and nibble the insides of my thighs.
“Your kisses are like wine, and I’m drunk on them!” I cried out.
Poised like a cat ready to pounce, she asked, “Are you ready?” Wickedly eyeing a certain part of my body.
“Oh, I’m ready. Just look at me. I’ve never been this hard. It almost hurts from wanting you so badly.”
She drove her head down fast, surprising me, then stopped to slowly and lightly lick the tip … slowly moving down the shaft … running her wet tongue back up to circle the tip. My penis twitched at the touch of her tongue, and I grew delirious watching her. She sucked and tugged at the tip, then quickly moved down until she had taken all of me into her mouth, her tongue darting, dancing all over, making me squirm against the bed. My eyes were clamped shut in pleasure, and I kept making inarticulate noises that approximated speech, but never quite made it.
Then she released me from her mouth, and glancing coyly up at me, asked, “Does this meet your standards, Sanny of the Mighty Pen?”
“Oh yes, you are AMAZING, Mneme. I had no idea it could be this good.”
“Shall I continue or would you prefer something else?”
It was hard to think, hard to get the words passed my lust-clouded brain. But I finally managed, gasping out, “I-I want to be inside of you.”
She smiled, and said, “Good. That is what I want too.”
Mneme took me back into her mouth to get me sopping wet, then straddled me again. She raised herself up, and then down onto my shaft, moaning as my length slid past her lips, and entered her.
“MMMMMMMMMM güvenilir bahis şirketleri you are so hot and hard.”
“And you …. you made me that way.” I stammer. The feeling is incredible as I descend into her, the warmth and wetness closing around me. Mneme moved slowly at first, adjusting to my size within her, then she leaned down, and began snatching kisses from my lips, neck, and chest. I grabbed her about the hips, holding her tightly, though letting her control the motion and speed. Inside of her I swelled, growing harder, though I scarcely had thought that possible. She sat up, allowing me to go deeper, moaning loudly, grinding against me, her lush breasts swinging as her pelvis undulated. It’s an exquisite thrill, to feel her riding me, to look up and see her eyes closed in lust, sucking her lip in, whimpering. Her breasts so full, I long to reach up and take them in my hands. But she reaches down, before I can, begins rubbing her clit. She cums, her wetness flowing out and around me. I take her hand, and bring it up to my mouth, sucking the juices from her fingers.
Then she climbed off of me, and I almost cried as I slipped out of her. She lay down, and looked up at me through lidded eyes, her voice deep with passion as she said, “Take me hard. Fast. Don’t worry about hurting me. You won’t.”
Driven mad by her words, I climbed onto Mneme, and thrust my hardness into her, just like she asked. She wrapped her legs around my waist, thrusting up to meet me, as I drove into her with deep, quick plunges. I ground into her, until my pelvis met hers, and my black hairs were mingled with her tawny mound. I stopped, keeping myself deep within her for several long moments, blocking out everything but the feel of her constricting walls against my shaft, her cunt gripping me almost like a hand. Then I slid out, almost all the way out, only keeping the bulbous head inside her, teasing her, then I would plunge all the way in, suddenly, forcefully.
Mneme arched her back, and scratched her nails down my back, clinging to me, holding me deep inside her. “Sanny. Oh Sanny. More, more, more!” My hands found her soft breasts, and I cupped them in my big hands, gently squeezing her nipples.
“You are going to make me cum again!”
“I’m about to cum myself. I need to cum ….. can I?” With each question, I went deep into her.
She rose to meet me on one last thrust, then fell back on the bed, looking up at me with wild eyes, her hair all fanned out behind her, her hips tilted upward sharply, back arching high as she came for me yet again. Her words were like primal grunts, tearing themselves from her lips. “Cum for me. Now, Sannion. NOW!”
Seeing her like that, feeling her cum around me, drove me over the edge. I went into her furiously, cuming, my hot seed pouring into her. My mind melted into orgasm, and I pulled out of her, and shot several long ropes of cum onto her belly and breasts. I cried out as I came, and then collapsed onto her. I couldn’t move or talk or think for several long moments afterwards.
Mneme wrapped her arms around me, and held me gently to her. “You were wonderful, my Poet.” She whispered into my ear, as her fingers traced small circles on my back.
“Oh Mneme, so were you.” I held her tight, kissing her.
“I think you have your story now.”
“You mean …. write about what we just did?”
She blushed, and lowered her eyes. “Yes.”
And with that, the beautiful, silken room with the soft lights and breathing walls vanished. Once more, I was in my dingy apartment, with the books and dishes and the large computer desk, alone.
I was sitting on the edge of my chair, my wilting dick still in my hand, my white cum spilled out around it. My breath was ragged, and I could hardly see, as my body finished it’s paroxysms.
“Oh wow.” I said eventually, wiping my hands off on my shorts. “That was incredible. But no one will believe me if I write it. I mean, what woman – even a Goddess – cums that many times?”
I heard Mneme laugh, and then I smiled, and knew I had to write about our experiences.
That’s my story, at least, and I’m sticking to it.