A Tale

by Arty

Once upon a time in a land far, far away. There lived a Muse and her Author. The Author felt himself to be supremely lucky, to have such a wonderful Muse as she and ...

[That's enough of that buster!]

[Well at least I got to the third sentence this time. I seem to be improving.]

[That's only because you've started writing shorter sentences!]

[It's called defensive writing. Otherwise known as getting a word in edgeways, before the story is monopolised by a chatty Muse.]

[That's what I'm paid for, so stop your complaining.]

[I'm not complaining - just making an observation.]

[One more observation like that and I may have to take steps.]

[Ooooo! I'm so scared.]

[Or more precisely a certain purple-hued acquaintance of mine will be taking steps...]

[OK You have my undivided attention. What's the problem?]

[Romance is out, down and dirty is in.]

[You mean something like:] ... took his enormous 10" cock into her throat in a single swallow. The Author groaned his appreciation of her superb coordination of throat and tongue. And then the Muse hummed her signature tune and the Author exploded and poured gallons of man-fluid down her throat.

[Well, it's a start I suppose...]

The Author, a bronzed Greek God of toned muscle without a single ounce of excess fat anywhere on his superb physique - and showing a complete lack of tan-lines, effortlessly picked up his Muse and impaled her on his newly erect love muscle...

[I'm sorry sweetheart I just can't keep this up, I find it hard to type with tears of laughter streaming down my face.]

[Well I supoose 'love muscle' is just a bit hackneyed.]

[Hackneyed? C'mere you, and prepare to be teased to un petit mort. (Apologies to Ali.)]

The Muse lay tied with soft silken scarves. A silk blindfold obscured her sight and heightened her remaining senses. Around the bed she could smell the scent of several candles, in the background a selection of the Author's favourite tracks played quietly.

The Muse hissed in sudden pleasure as she felt a stroke of burning wetness, as a tongue insinuated itself between her pussy lips. A final swirl around her clitoris caused another gasp and then it was over. Next was a gentle bite on a nipple. Then a feather trailed a ticklish path around her other breast and underneath her arm. A drop of icy-cold water landed on the same nipple. Little by little, the teasing touches gathered momentum and soon the Muse was writhing in abandon on the downy-soft bed.

Eventually it was too much and the Muse begged for her Author to allow her to cum, generously her Author granted her wish and concentrated his oral ministrations between her legs, until she was incoherent with pleasure. The Muse felt that she was drowning in pleasure but she had not the breath to protest as she was too busy screaming out one climax after another. Just as she felt she could go no higher, the Author stopped, leaving her gasping and breathless and then she groaned as, once more, her senses were assaulted, this time by the feel of his cock sliding between her - oh so slippery - pussy lips. The Muse groaned her frustration as her bonds prevented her from shifting position to improve her sensations and then as if by magic she was free and she was able to use her limbs to urge her Author to perform exactly the way that she liked.

All too soon the Author and the Muse achieved a mutual release and fell sideways, still joined, both gasping for breath.

"Was that the sort of thing you had in mind, darling?"

"It'll do to be going on with sweet one. I suppose."

The quiet was broken by the sound of two people laughing uproariously. The Muse's wings glowed gently in the dark their power renewed.

-Fin-