Incautious Wishes
Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll 9
Rapture is always waiting in the wings at any stage of your life, ready to lift you to into an ecstasy of flight. At any moment you may find yourself performing at the topmost heights of artistry and coherence, when time disappears and you’re in the zone.
You may lose yourself and find a timeless state of grace in the living arts of dance or sport, the peaceful art of flower arranging or the deadly craft of war. The teenage Prince of Centraxis can loose his ego and find himself in the zone while engaged in many of the courtly arts – playing music, painting, meditation, photography, filmmaking, poetry, calligraphic and geometric design, the ancient ‘game’ of go, ritual magic, staged prestidigitation, Zen archery and a wide range of other arts and pastimes.
He can’t lose himself in dance any longer – hasn’t been able to dance at all, since the Welsh Wizard known as Nathan the Marcon laid a curse upon him in the deconsecrated stone church where the Centraxians work and play. Nathan had attempted to ground the young magician, earthing his spark as he walked a tightrope track betwixt worlds, not long after the prince died and returned to this life. The Marcon also objected to Ram’s youthful egocentricity, and cursed him with an arcane injunction - a spell artfully masked within a derogatory Gaelic spiel.
Now, whenever the princely hippy dances, unfortunate things happen and chaos trails his steps. He can no longer partake in Shiva’s mixed benison; Shiva, the Lord of the Dance and primordial destroyer and transformer of worlds. Prince Ram’yana concentrates on other artforms and pursuits that take him into the zone without the negative consequences incurred by dancing.
Everything in Ram’s artful psychedelic existence is different since his brush with death. Whenever he returns to mundane consciousness from the zone, Ram’yana wonders whether he’s really, truly, actually alive – or merely dreaming the whole magical world and his entire extraordinary life, a blind corpse quietly rotting in his coffin while fantasising an ongoing optimal future.
How can you know you exist – really know you aren’t merely a figment of your own imagination? How can you possibly prove to yourself that you’re alive?
Ever since he died, there’s been one particularly sublime Art the teenage shaman has discovered that he truly excels at, and enjoys beyond anything and everything in his young experience – a blissful Art that successfully convinces him he’s really alive. Every time he engages in the illuminating glory of this most engaging art he’s raised aloft in the greatest, most uplifting rapture imaginable. When he practices his favourite Art of all, the entire universe is transformed into the wonderful, magical place that we all know it to be when we witness its majesty through the unalloyed eyes of childhood.
Each time the young shaman prince makes love with his wondrous intended bride the cosmos disappears and is remade in the flaming crucible of their endless teenage passion. Every day and every night, the dead man wakes to sweet delight in the arms of his loving Lady Racheal; the Centraxian priestess convinces her mate he’s truly, passionately alive in the most transfiguring and satisfying ways possible.
Their lovemaking transcends anything Ram has experienced with any other woman or women; the prince is an incurable romantic who definitely doesn’t want to be cured of his veritably compulsive loving lust and undying passion for his young Wiccan mate. Yet his enduring sense of honour drags him back to the compass point of unavoidable truth. An inescapable lodestone hangs around his neck and presses against his heart with a question that haunts his daydreams; how can he keep the wild witch with him, if he follows the path of non-possessive free love - which Ram’yana espouses and practices along with most of his fellow Centraxians?
The hippy refuses to be a hypocrite. Inculcated as he is with the doctrines of his patriarchal culture, the rebellious young romantic casts aside all parochial notions born of insecurity and inequity. He accepts the fact that the only thing that can keep any lovers together is the irreplaceable glory of true love itself.
How can he expect his beautiful Lady Racheal – who was a virgin until they met – to restrict her gorgeous young self to one man, when the prince has known so many other lovers? And how long can the teenage couple continue to watch the passing parade of willing flower-child bedmates pass by, without finally inviting one or more into their bed?
The Centraxians thrive in the fertile garden of free love and open minds in the high heyday of the hippy era. They know that the weathervane of the times points in the direction taken by their hearts’ desire – and know that when destiny drops a tasty gift in your lap, it’s wise to unwrap and savour it with grateful thanks.
Arne’s eyes lock upon the Lady Racheal’s gaze while their tongues entwine inside the warm wet cave of their new young redhead friend’s raspberry pink mouth. The beautiful blonde priestess stares into the younger boy’s soul and kisses his tongue inside wee young
Racheal is the ever-arousing star of Arne Stook’s most fervent erotic fantasies - and now she grasps his outsized young manhood tightly in her paint-stained fingers and uses him to inspire the red-haired younger teen to a moaning, gasping state of near hysteria. The lad is thoroughly aroused and inspired by the unprecedentedly intimate contact with the ravishing young priestess and exults in being the proud instrument of her decisive passion.
Arne’s friend and Racheal’s lover watches them kiss the younger girl as he elicits moans from his brazen Lady with a deepening series of thrusts. Ram’yana caresses both girls while their firm young feminine flesh presses together on the edge of his bed. He can easily understand how thoroughly Crystal’s magnetic faun-like form and nature enflame both the lust-blinded young martial artist and his own young girlfriend alike, and the prince keeps his eyes on the redhead’s arousingly unfamiliar sinuosity while Racheal engulfs his plunging ramrod with her extraordinarily talented musculature. It’s obvious that Arne desperately wants to push the runaway teen right down into his lap and wrap her doll-like body all the way around his proudly rearing pillar, but Racheal’s hand stops his last few inches from completely filling the inexperienced younger girl.
When his Lady winks at the younger lad through
Ram’yana receives a distinct impression that Arne wants to arouse Racheal to a fever pitch of desire. He suspects his witch-wife is becoming enflamed enough to consider even closer, deeper and more personal contact with the precocious new Centraxian, whose hefty young manhood she wields with a surprising lack of restraint. Racheal’s unprecedentedly wanton display of bisexual lust is incredibly arousing for her prince, who redoubles his efforts to match Arne’s rhythm until his blonde mate’s moans erupt into Crystal’s mouth and compete with the redhead stranger’s cries.
It’s obvious to the shaman prince that the masculine monk is showing Ram’s Lady what he can do for his long-admired priestess one day – mayhap this very day, if their lucky stars and ardent wills be in bright conjunction. Ram’yana caresses the Centraxian priestess as he glides through her delicious interior, absorbed in the inspiring sights, textures and sounds of their impassioned little orgy. A twinge of guilt-ridden jealousy twangs through his spine when his hand meets Arne’s on his Lady’s breast; a throb of anxiety ripples through Ram’s chest as he considers the possibility of sharing his mate’s more intimate charms with the other young man.
Arne shifts his palm to Racheal’s other breast and presses
The girls each take firm control of the other’s rearing male and make love with each other using their young men’s indomitable teenage rigidity. They guide their lovers’ movements with more gently explorative feminine fingers while their soft pink lips slowly meld in a tentative immersion into deepening mystery. Their questing tongues dance and swirl together as an endless tentacular caress of fingers and palms roam their slender rocking bodies.
The Lady Racheal slips her mouth from Crystal’s with a plosive gasp as the other girl pushes Ram’s rod right up against her cervix; she turns to kiss her beloved prince while her eyes roll and her body quivers in everyone’s grasp. The clamouring probe into her deepest interior makes the teenage priestess’s thighs tremble as she shivers within the extended afterglow of her recent screaming orgasm. She kneels on the low bed in front of the younger teens and uses Arne’s pole as an oversized dildo to pleasure the slim redhead - the very first girl she’s ever made love with.
Racheal’s loins are drenched with overflowing heat and her breasts bounce against Crystal’s when she twists her flexing torso to meet her beloved’s sensuous carmine lips. Blissful tears well in her stoned aquamarine eyes as she groans and cries into his mouth.
Their nearest neighbour changes the record that masked the earlier wave of impassioned sounds pouring from the barred window of the lovers’ bedchamber. The endless surf of afternoon traffic rushes through the squat in a rising crescendo of scarcely contained internal combustion and squeaking rubber. A 45 rpm single blurs in pitch and tempo as someone adjusts the turntable’s speed and The Rolling Stones blare above the full-throated fleshy sounds of the Centraxians’ uninhibited couplings.
The High Priestess’s multiplying orgasms return to ignite her exploding nervous system as she moans into her lover’s lips. The amazing sight and tremendously inspiring feel of his gorgeous Lady Racheal coming in screaming heat mesmerises her young man as she sucks his tongue right into her throat. She groans and shimmies around his rigidity and quivers in an climactic seizure, while she jerks Arne’s pillar through the redhead’s torn pants and into her straining membranes in a potently arousing display of electrifying lust-blinded fucking.
“She would never say where she came from
Yesterday don’t matter if it’s gone…”
Ram’yana watches his orgasmic witch-bride push more of Arne’s manhood into Crystal’s pouting, ginger-fringed seam with each successive thrust. Racheal screams, breaking their kiss to twist back round and suck on the other boy’s meaty slab of tongue, as the flushed length of her radiant nakedness is caressed by bold Arne Stook and his sweet newfound girlfriend. She bucks back against her prince while the soft flesh of her hard-buttoned breast squeezes between his fingers and Crystal’s firm mound and grasping fingers press against the back of his hand.
The younger teen appears weightless in Arne’s iron grip as Racheal spreads the girl’s diminutive red-fringed loins even more tautly around his lusty engorgement while she moans around the mass of his tongue. Arne reaches the limit of Crystal’s tight tunnel when Racheal crams his organ right up into the inexperienced girl, who screams as Arne lifts her arm and suspends her from his bear-like paw once more. “OOHH! OfuckGodohh!” The young teen moans and swoons as her eyes roll back in their sockets.
“When the sun is bright
Or in the darkest night
No-one knows
She comes and goes…”
The young men are amazed and inflamed by the sight, sounds and feel of the unprecedentedly brazen Lady Racheal; she mashes her hand-filling breasts into Crystal’s conical mounds while kissing the moaning girl’s young man over her shoulder. She suckles on his tongue as she fucks the small teen with his uber-masculine hardness. Ram’s hands turn to stroke the redhead’s firm freckly breasts as his intended bride moans into Arne’s mouth and squeezes the other man’s balls in her fingers. He watches while the young monk convinces himself that Racheal is tempting him to fuck his new girlfriend’s tiny bod senseless.
Enfolded in Crystal’s slick tightness and emboldened in the furious heat of his lusty presumption, Arne resolves to follow his High Priestess’s furiously pumping lead and instantly ignites into a surpassingly bold display of precocious masculine prowess. The muscular boy lifts Crystal’s airy little body up and down around his huge organ, his fingertips overlapping as his meaty hands clasp all the way around her tiny waist, while he kisses the girl of his dreams over her shoulder. The enraptured teenager wraps the little female round his cock and leans forward, pressing her into Ram’s hands and Racheal’s breasts while he lifts her lithe body up his shaft and pushes her back down its length, over and over, faster and faster - masturbating within the clamping strength of the screaming redhead runaway’s tautly straining silkiness.
The Lady Racheal guides and restrains the outsized younger boy’s thrusts with tightly grasping fingers as she tastes his bourbon-laced kisses, while she bucks her firm round cheeks up against her prince’s trim belly. The Centraxian trio pleasures the younger teen through a rising crescendo of moans and gasping cries until she shrieks loudly enough to frighten the witches next door - and all the neighbourhood dogs begin to bark at once.
Arne pleasures his disproportionate manhood with Crystal’s overheated little vulva, wrapping the girl around his girth and rubbing his doorknob head against the taut sheets of her inner lining while she squeals gratifyingly and urges him on with wide-throated cries. Her shrieks are only slightly muted into moans when Ram’yana leans forward through his mate’s blonde mane and sucks Crystal’s tongue into his lips. Her head bobs up and down to keep contact with the prince’s mouth as Arne lifts the moaning redhead up and down his swollen rearing pole.
The young monk is inexpressibly proud to be allowed into the magical lovers’ bedchamber and share in their oft-imagined intimacies. The muscular youth displays his maturing masculine power by making his beautiful little girlfriend scream and moan as she writhes in uncontrollable spasms of ecstasy before his Centraxian companions – yet all the while he remains completely absorbed in kissing the longed-for lips of the Lady Racheal, imagining it’s her slim belly clenched tightly round his rigid mass. He wills the priestess to want him to make love with her while he strokes his rearing pole with the amazingly taut folds of his girlfriend’s young quim.
“Goodbye Ruby Tuesday
Who could hang a name on you?
When you change with every new day
Still I’m gonna miss you…”
Ram’yana’s stoned mind spins along with the Stones lyrics even as his body is immersed in the sensations of making love with the beautiful pair of teenage girls. Is it an omen? he wonders as the apparently random tracks meld with reality and the redhead’s gentle hand pulls him up into his kneeling mate’s blonde thatch. The prince kisses Crystal’s cheek and brow as she screams into his long dark hair. He strokes her fine pixie features, amazed at how small her face is compared with his hand. Arne slurps and suckles on Racheal’s face while his sausage fingers roam her trembling skin.
The martial artist seems to believe that the Lady Racheal wants to see him really do the young stranger, to really fuck her until she can take no more. He can feel her hand urging him on while her electric blue eyes roll and blink against the rush of her orgasm, as she holds onto the erotic scene splayed before her enraptured glazed gaze.
Arne smothers her rapid gasps with his mouth and tongue while he watches Ram’yana caress the redhead’s writhing body out of the corner of his eye. He rears up on the crushed bean bag to proudly lift the girl’s splayed nubility higher and give Racheal an arousing view of the action, as he rears up inside Chrissie’s sweet young loins at his priestess’s undeniable command. Ram’s lips slip away from the gasping girl’s as her wide blue eyes retreat from his face. Her skinny arms wrap around Racheal’s frame as the priestess rises along his shaft, straining to retain contact with Arne’s mouth.
“Don’t question why she needs to be so free
She’ll tell you it’s the only way to be…”
The martial monk presses the females’ soft flesh closer together between his bulky frame and Ram’s slender musculature as he rears up from Racheal’s kiss and takes Crystal’s jaw between his thumb and forefinger. He twists her mouth to meet Racheal’s while he services his jutting erection with her elfin femininity. Arne expresses a strange, artistically inclined desire to arrange the girls’ perfect young bodies into patterns conforming to his fondly sensual imaginings. The huge lad positions them with a willful need that borders on obsession, draping them around each other and pressing their mouths together as if they were a pair of living dolls.
Arne sniffs the air and savours the girls’ sweet sex-spiced scents, which easily overwhelm the alcoholic fumes and pungent marijuana smoke. He stares into Racheal’s eyes, blinking as he recognises the creamy smell of masculine spunk fairly pouring from the blonde Wiccan priestess; the tip of his tongue emerges between his lips when he detects a faint chord of mixed incenses lurking in the complex arrangement of the hippies’ comfortable bedchamber.
The young men watch the arousing bliss of the girls’ sensuous kiss while the priestess reams the doll-like freckled redhead with Arne’s manhood in a slowly accelerating tempo. His hand slips up Crystal’s thigh and grasps Racheal’s hand within his palm, squeezing it around the base of his shaft. His need is transparent; he wants the tribal priestess to know his throbbing cock with utter intimacy, and to desire him with a desperate need that she can’t help but fulfill.
“She just can’t be chained
To a life where nothing’s gained
And nothing’s lost
At such a cost…”
The fantastic feeling of fully having the red-haired elfin girl, filling and pressing her silkiness tightly against him, inside and out - while they both plunge his cock into her perspiration-soaked little body in the summery heat - overwhelms the teenage martial artist. His thoughts are obvious to the onlooking magician; Ram’s fey senses are heightened as well as distracted by the arousing spectacle, but Arne’s lust has transfigured his handsome face into a leering mask and his feelings are pellucid as he licks the priestess’s ear and cheek and holds her face to Crystal’s. I want to make her come, he dreams, I want to make her scream… And when Chrissie comes I want her to feel it… Arne’s subsequent musings are less discernible to the Centraxian prince as his mind is subsumed within his amorous girlfriend’s unexpectedly unleashed sexuality.
Arne begins to fuck the girl so rapidly her hair becomes a flaming waving halo and her tight young breasts roll around on her chest, bouncing against Racheal’s taut-nippled mounds. “Tighter than an arsehole”, the onetime rent-boy murmurs in blunt streetwise wonder as he manfully holds back his impending orgasm. Crystal’s shell necklace rattles loudly over her bellowing gasps and the music rises a notch in volume, then another, as someone next door attempts to camouflage the sounds of the raucous little orgy.
Totally entranced and blissfully lost in a tumult of close-pressed firm flesh and the virile rush of their pounding young blood, none of them feels any need to utter a word. The intensifying spell of their wordless conjunction swells with the moans that burst forth from the tribal magician’s bedchamber.
The priestess can barely see through magenta and purple pulses that swarm and swell through her vision as her blood races through her veins. Her tongue slips between the panting redhead’s painted lips while she fucks the other girl with Arne’s impressive erection. She can’t handle him, she tells herself. She’s a toy in his grasp, fully filled by half this huge cock! Oh my darling Ramses, I want it! I need it - just once… Her hand slides around Arne’s feverish flesh and butts up against Crystal’s fur-lined mont while she surrenders to the strange girl’s panting kiss. Or twice…
“There’s no time to lose, I heard her say
Catch your dreams before they slip away…”
Racheal gasps and moans with her newfound little friend and her breath burns ragged in her throat as her prince rides her trembling flesh with mounting intensity. Her screaming cry ululates in a reverberating tremolo in time with his pneumatic pumping whilst the unprecedentedly uninhibited priestess squeezes the base of the bigger boy’s staff in her hand. She kisses Arne inside Crystal’s wide-stretched mouth while they both impale the girl with ever deeper thrusts of his fleshy lance. “Oh Goddess… sweet little ruby-rimmed Crystal…” the priestess whispers as she draws breath, “Mmm, so horny, oh yess… so good to really fuck you like a man would, mm, uhuh, like that… and with a real, hard man…” Arne’s face brims with pride as he silences Racheal’s whispered endearments with his diving mouth.
The younger girl’s eyes are squeezed shut as she moans and writhes in Arne’s unbreakable grasp, five hands squeezing and stroking her squirming body wile Racheal jams Arne’s monstrous cock inside her. Ram’yana holds her hips and strokes her belly and breasts while his tongue slides into her ear. Racheal’s ribcage presses his palm into the redhead’s soft flesh as the prince jolts her further forward with every thrust while Arne’s lips suckle on her mouth.
The raw power of Arne’s increasingly intense fucking pushes Crystal right up against the blonde priestess, throwing her off balance; Ram’yana catches his mate before she slips from his pole and lifts her back above the bed with his palms clamped beneath her knees. Racheal’s hand slips from Arne’s slippery cock as the prince presses her forward against the younger girl with a deep plunging thrust.
Ram’yana grasps his Lady’s long legs and spreads them around Crystal’s waist as he fucks his Wiccan mate to the same rhythm they’re both unable to resist watching. He bounces his beloved up and down in time with Arne’s reaming dive up into the little redhead’s torn denim shorts while Racheal locks her heels athwart the big boy’s ribcage. Arne rears erect, breaking their kiss as he jams himself into the red-haired pixie, filling Crystal with a cock that seems too stupendously large for the wee lass to handle and enjoy; wider than her narrow strip of orange fuzz and broader than the gap between her slender parted thighs, which bulge around his mass as she kneels on the edge of the bed.
“Dying all the time
Lose your dreams and you will lose your mind
Ain’t life unkind?”
Arne Stook’s features light with delight as he wraps one hand around both the redhead’s slender wrists again and stretches her upward, while his other mitt rambles across the landscape of her smooth soft skin; caressing, pinching and lightly slapping her tiny freckled body, rolling one breast in his palm, all the while sucking at her tongue as he looms over her - swallowing and gripping it tightly with a suction as irresistible as the pull of gravity.
The Lady Racheal fucks the younger girl with the young man’s fluid-slicked cock and yearns to immerse herself ever deeper in telepathic tactile bliss in the other couple’s close-pressed sex - to experience every unforgettable sensation with the intensity of a virgin being pleasured for the first time. The priestess wraps herself around the beautiful little redhead and caresses Arne’s firm musculature with her limber hands and feet.
What a body… he’s a fucking god… Darkly wrought twisting and twisted images of stark seduction and rough manhandling fill Racheal’s glazing eyes, admixed with the sensations she knows the young redhead must be experiencing. Visions of bondage swirl in her mind as she recalls and relives the dark fantasies she’s entertained when she’s admired the impressive boy at a distance.
She imagines what it would feel like to have that impressive slab of man-meat stretching her wide as she writhes in helpless ecstasy with her hands firmly pinned, just like that – and then she can feel Arne reaming her with forcefully ungentle thrusts, while he jerks her immobilised little body around his massive cock with a completely unbreakable and almost painful grip.
The Wiccan priestess slips into Crystal’s intensely focused tight little body and bright blown-away mind, and writhes with the thoroughly impaled redhead as the younger teenager escapes her religiously indoctrinated mental prison. Racheal flies with her as she soars and screams in a flushing rush of sinful, shameful, wickedly unforgivable and degradingly animalistic sexual fulfillment.
She feels the slick wet heat of furry female loins soaking her slim hip as another girl’s clitoris slides against her side – Racheal’s own overheated loins, the priestess realises in a confusing fugue of ego-shattering fusion – while two sets of hairy male balls bounce against her pale flawless skin. Racheal/Crystal begins to ride the unstoppable pounding waves of irrepressible mounting masculine fury as she would a wild rearing wave. She feels the squadron of unidentifiable hands squeezing and stroking her tiny slim nakedness, feels overwhelmed by the close-pressed mass of larger young bodies all around her - and feels utterly unwilling to resist.
The priestess experiences a bursting inner turmoil of guilt, hope, lust and blinding release, as a knife-edge commingling borderline of pain and ecstasy pours through the redhead’s virtually untried freckly little body, mind and soul. Racheal glories in the sensation of the huge young male – a different male - splitting her in twain with his big hard log, as he fucks her like a weightless rag doll suspended from one massive hand. She feels a feminine hand caressing her wide-stretched labia and tickling her clitoris and the sensation pushes her over the edge.
She screams through Crystal’s throat as both girls surrender to the furiously fucking beast-boy’s horny lust; she almost blacks out and loses her selves completely as a drenching flood of liquid pours from her loins. Fighting this irresistible force of nature is the last thing she wants to do, as she screams and opens her thighs as widely as she can to the unstoppable pounding rush of hot visceral maleness.
She feels Crystal’s inward muscles instinctively clamp around the thick fleshy pole as her body rises in the lad’s unbreakable grip, and swoons as her fully stretched inexperienced membranes plummet back onto his purpling pillar. She feels herself propelled all the way down by a bear-like paw that digs deeply into the flesh of her waist - and the frantically aroused young Lady Racheal finds herself drifting back into her own bucking form as she reaches down to guide Arne’s stout spire right up into the young teen, her hand firmly gripping the furry base of his shaft.
She scrams and comes as she hovers betwixt two bodies at once while Crystal’s electrifying orgasm spans the no-space between their closely pressed skins, overflowing from their blindingly illuminated nervous systems to fill both screaming girls with tidal waves of searing heat and raw climactic chaos.
Their young hippy men gasp and groan as they plunge into the uncontrollable wild hugging intensity of their screaming teenage mates. Their groping hands stroke and grip the naked slippery feminine bodies writhing around and between them, while they inspire each other with proud powerful thrusts imbued with their endless teenage stamina and utterly aroused masculine strength.
All four teenagers lose themselves in the wild abandon of pumping flesh and searing hormones, screaming throats and clenching muscles. A flurry of gasping cries erupts from Crystal’s pink lips, half smothered by Arne’s smooth insistent mouth. Her squeals become more strident and a ghost of concern enters Ram’s entranced mind when he glances at Arne’s mouth pressed against the redhead’s gorgeous lips. Does she want him to stop? Is she enjoying it or is she freaking out? He dismisses the thought as a dishonourable outpouring of jealousy and concentrates on the unrepeatable glory of the unfolding moment.
The prince fucks his priestess in unceasing animal frenzy as their interleaving hands stroke Crystal’s magnetic little body. His enraptured mate groans and screams as she caresses the other girl and presses her furry wetness into Crystal’s slender hipbone while his balls bounce against the girl’s denims. He senses the screaming females’ explosive fusion as he experiences a ghostly shadow of their amazing intermingling climax. The younger teen freezes in their grasp when Racheal drives Arne right up into her with a particularly deep plunge, and Ram’yana wonders whether to intervene or say something while he watches the girl scream for a literally suspended stretching moment.
Arne straightens her body out between his hands as he jams the wee lass down around his man-flesh with almost brutal intensity, an undisguised look of self-servicing desire transforming his Nordic features into those of a rapacious Viking. His thick tongue fills her mouth, muting her cries as he rears up into her dangling body and bends over her from behind, while they all sample her firm flesh and smooth skin with hands, lips and tongues. Is he raping her? The prince wonders of a sudden. Are we raping her?
Then the moaning girl screams through the liquid clinch of their mingling lips, “Yesoyes, omanopleasedearGodyess!” in a breathless rush of joyful lust-filled wanting that dispels the prince’s compassionate but misplaced concern.
“Oh, oh, ohh Ramses,” Racheal moans dazedly while they all share the joyful outpouring of Crystal’s first orgasm - and the priestess experiences the summit of her ecstasy on another plane altogether. “Oh, my man, oh my love…” She merges and emerges completely through Crystal’s stunning ecstasy, and feels the men move through both her interweaving bodies, minds and souls in a timeless, spaceless, overpowering flowering fugue of ego-shattering realisation. I am her! She is me!
“I’ve got a black magic woman…”
“Oh, priestess…” Arne’s thick fingers slide across Racheal’s paint-stained feminine hands as they caress his diminutive girlfriend’s writhing, gasping body. His rough digits glide up the older teen’s slender arms to grasp her slender rocking shoulder before his calloused thumb unexpectedly slips sidewise into her open mouth; the big youth lifts the younger redhead up above his lap with his other massive paw and drops her around his swollen sex.
“I’ve got a black magic woman…”
“Oh, my ginnie…” Crystal moans, “Oooh! Ohh unghhn ohh! Oh God, it feels so good!”
“Oh fuck… oh yes, babe… urnghh…” Arne groans. “I wish I could feel what you girls are feeling…” His eyes stay on the Lady Racheal’s enraptured face while he runs his thumb around his priestess’s soft palate. She suckles on him like a baby as his fingers tangle in her blonde mane, and the witch-girl finds herself returning toward the confines of her singularly unique body.
“I’ve got a black magic woman who’s got me so blind I can’t see…”
“Careful what thou wishest for,” Prince Ram’yana gasps as he pleasures his beloved priestess. He watches the shifting curves and planes of Arne’s intoxicated face from behind his Lady’s gracile recurving back. Racheal’s thighs encircle Crystal’s tiny waist and her ankles lock around Arne’s hips, pulling him into the other girl’s fading orgasm. The younger boy pounds though the belly of his petite red-haired mate while he continues to dangle her in the air before the teenage prince and priestess, staring into Racheal’s eyes all the while.
“…That she’s a black magic woman and she’s trying to make a devil out of me.”
I know what I wish, the priestess thinks as she feels and watches the girl’s contagious ecstasy while Arne stretches her helpless little ginnie wider. I wish I could feel other big cocks inside me, just like this …other men’s cocks, different horny cocks… Arne’s cock… She doesn’t care whether her thoughts are received by her occasionally telepathic prince, but a trace of proprietary guilt accompanies the raging fireball of her lust when the fleeting image of her beloved young man making love with beautiful young Crystal shivers through her sex-glazed and drug-enhanced mind.
“Oh fuck, what a pair of goddesses… oh, yeah, mm honey, oh my fuck goddess, honey fucking goddess of my dreams…” Time begins to move again. Arne stares into the refocusing awareness of his priestess’s stoned, sex-stoked eyes while he reams the little redhead and murmurs sweet nothings through the flaming halo of her hair. He slips his oversized tongue back into Crystal’s gaping, gasping mouth - and Racheal knows the bear-like boy is really speaking to her while he watches his priestess buck against his friend and mentor.
Arne impales the little red-haired waif he’s brought in off the street while his huge thumb slides around the rim of Racheal’s mouth and jostles against her teeth. “Oh yeah mm,” he mumbles, pulling his tongue from Crystal’s lips and holding his priestess’s aquamarine eyes with his own, “I wish I could fuck you both at once…”
Ram’s timing shifts and his stroke falters momentarily at the younger youth’s boisterous declaration. Then he resumes parting the frothing pink seam of his beloved from behind, while he caresses the familiar but ever-entrancing contours of her flanks, her buns, her hips and slender curving ribcage; his emerald eyes remain fixed on Crystal’s unforgettable features while his hands squeeze between both girls’ closely pressed sweat-slick breasts.
“Don’t turn your back on me, baby…”
Arne’s egocentric insouciance draws the Lady Racheal all the way back into her post-orgasmic body, dissolving the extraordinary spell of her psychic union with Crystal’s completely novel yet intimately familiar presence. The priestess unwraps herself from Crystal’s sweat-slaked skin and drops breathlessly to her hands and knees when Ram’yana pulls her back around his long shaft. He climbs up around his mate’s smooth white haunches and presses the sleek lengths of her flanks between his fuzzy thighs. She tries to frown at the blonde boy while she continues to suck the lad’s big thumb, as her prince spreads her cheeks wider with his magical musical hands and rides her from behind with a mind-blowingly rapid and wonderfully familiar urgency.
Embarrassed annoyance burns through the tail of the Lady Racheal’s time-spanning, space-leaping orgasm - not because she grunts uncontrollably as her prince presses her down into the mattress, while she trembles beneath his larger frame amid the utterly naked helpless exposure of submissive female lust; not because Arne’s thumbnail rasps roughly into her throat, almost making her gag as his fingers entangle and pull at her long blonde hair, nor at the youth’s obvious lack of respect for her and the other girl. The Wiccan priestess seethes with suppressed guilt and rising annoyance because the muscular boy has pinned her squarely back inside herself by describing precisely what she was doing; fucking you both…
Until he spoke the name of her own secret desire, the adventurous young witch had been riding both young men while she rode within Crystal’s helplessly suspended body, feeling everything the younger girl experienced in a space-defying fugue of blissfully orgasmic enlightenment.
The fact that Racheal wants the muscular boy to jump her bones and fuck her brains out at the first available opportunity is entirely beside the point. The Centraxian priestess decides to challenge the young monk’s overweening ego – and veil Arne’s undisguised lust for her from her beloved prince’s penetrating sight.
“Don’t turn your back on me, baby, stop messing around with your tricks…”
Arne’s voice squeaks slightly as he misquotes the next line with a blustering explosion of song, while he jams himself up into Crystal from behind; “Don’t turn your back on me baby or you might just feel my magic stick… ohh, oh honey…”
The Lady Racheal knows Arne’s primarily holding back his own orgasm to impress her with his undeniable assets and enduring talent, and she smiles up at the younger teens while her loving young man pleasures her with uninhibited abandon. She decides it’s time to put the newly inducted Centraxian in his place – before I let him put himself in mine. The uninitiated High Priestess pulls her mouth back from the blonde neophyte’s hairy paw and shakes his fingers out of her hair, gazing into his eyes and licking her lips as she bucks back and forth around her Ramses. She clears her clotted throat but fails to restrain the flurries of ardent encouragements that fly from her lips, when she speaks loudly enough to be heard over the neighbour’s vinyl rock ’n’ roll records.
“Thou knowest thy sponsor into the uhh ungh… the tribe, uhh… my Prince Ram’yana – oh, my love, mm, that’s so good - that thy prince can claim certain rights as uhh… mm… as thy Liege Lord? Mmm, uhh uhh…”
Arne’s grin falters and the Lady Racheal’s vision swims through her blinking lashes as confusion wrinkles the boy’s brow. Ram’yana slows his frenzied pace and his hands slip around his beloved’s breasts. It’s obvious that both men are puzzled by her words, and Crystal shows no sign of being aware of her declamation at all as she hangs swooning from Arne’s slowly lowering hand. “The right of first fuck,” the Lady Racheal tells the boy bluntly with a grimly serious expression on her charming features.
There is, of course, no such rite or right within the court of Centraxis and Racheal feels her prince stir to naysay her words - so the priestess slips a hand up between her thighs and grips her mate by his balls to silence his impending protest. “But thy mentor may relent… oh, like that, like that… uh, under the circumstances… uhhuh… and simply claim the right to be the first to come in this splendid new tribe member instead.” She squeezes her prince’s splendid member to ensure her words sink into his arousal-blinkered mind.
“Ooh!” Crystal squeals as Ram’yana lunges into his bride-to-be in front of the girl’s stoned eyes, ending Racheal’s suggestive protest with a reaming plunge that makes her fall gasping to her elbows. He decides his Lady’s words must be a ploy to protect the younger girl – the hippy couple has no idea whether she’s on the pill or not. Crystal doesn’t react to his priestess’s pronouncement as she shimmies and moans before him in her imposing new boyfriend’s inescapable grasp.
The boys resume their fulfilling probes and intimate caresses of their responsive nubile girlfriends’ silken interiors, as young lust easily overwhelms the reflective pause engendered by the crafty priestess’s spell-like spiel. The teenage youths mirror each other’s tempos perfectly as the swooning young redhead breaks breathlessly from Arne’s mouth with rolling eyes and heaving breasts, held upright only by his outsized hand and the deeply buried stake of his manhood.
Arne looks into Ram’s eyes with a puzzled grimace while his tribal Hierophant moves his Lady Racheal further across the bed with every thrust, as she stretches her face closer to the younger couple. The inimitable electric-eyed Centraxian High Priestess bounces herself forward until her mouth tilts through Crystal’s parted thighs toward Arne Stook’s foam-laved pillar. Ram’yana returns the lad’s voyeurism with a steady smiling stare while Crystal’s head lolls downward and her movements slacken.
“Remember,” Racheal hisses, tugging Arne’s attention back down to her entrancing blue kohl-lined eyes as she peers up between the fainting girl’s breasts, “Uhh… don’t come in her… oh, ohh ohh… don’t come…” The alien fragrance of the younger teenagers’ frenzied coupling flowers inside her flaring nostrils; the sensitive priestess opens her mouth wide and extends her long tongue like a cat in heat, to more fully taste their intoxicatingly transfixing scents in the close atmosphere of her prince’s private bedchamber.
“I’ve got a black magic woman…”
The priestess begins to come again – the signs are unmistakable to the neophyte monk and the shaman prince. Arne thrusts up into Crystal’s unresponsive dangling body and watches his much admired priestess’s engorging heat rise to suffuse her flushed cheeks, rock-hard nipples and blood-swollen lips - sees her tender smooth membranes swelling and purpling as her eyes roll back into their sockets beneath her waving blonde mane when Racheal rears upward to stare into his face. “Uhh, she gasps, “don’t come in her!”
“Watch!” Arne insists to his gasping priestess as he thrusts his new redhead lover up and down around the approaching storm of his impending explosion. The huge lad thrusts his groin up and down as he jerks himself off inside the tightness of the young runaway’s diminutive body. Crystal moans and pants as he suspends the lightly freckled lass by her slim wrists, lifting and dropping her onto his long thick manhood while he gropes Racheal’s breast with his other hand.
“Watch her come!” Arne is blatantly ungovernable in his ecstatic raging horniness, leering with unsatisfied yet gratified glee when he sees Racheal’s eyes swim away to light on Crystal’s elfin face. He suspends the young teen upon the crown of his proudly displayed pillar, jutting right through the completely torn-open crotch of her denim shorts. When his fingers adjust their slipping grip around both of her fragile-looking wrists, his hand seems as huge as a catcher’s mitt to the Centraxian lovers; Crystal’s skinny arms appear twig-like beside the barely bulging musculature of his flexing forearm and bicep.
Arne’s sea-blue eyes meet Ram’s emerald orbs with an open and candid expression, yet the brotherly friendliness shining in his face is suffused with an unsubtle semblance of pleading entreaty. When Racheal’s gasps of pleasure make her drop her head to the mattress the blonde giant silently mouths the words; ‘Let’s swap’.
Crystal raises her face and focuses her bobbing perspective on the older girl. She becomes dimly aware of the perfect synchrony of the young men’s pneumatic motions and feels a wave of pleasure suffuse her with a roseate glow as the blonde hippy lifts her face from the bed and smiles up at her. The girls grin through the exposed vulnerability of their mutual naked sexuality, their breaths and movements harmonising as they meld into a warm bliss of intimate sisterly empathy. The apparently tireless teenage physiques of their young men work the beautiful teenage females into to an ever-deepening flux of wildly unrestrained post-adolescent tumult.
The pressure in Arne’s swelling roots overflows toward bursting point as he grabs Crystal by the midriff and presses her down onto his engorgement. He jerks her body up and down, feeling as though his hand is wrapped about an extension of his phallus instead of around Crystal’s tiny waist – imagines that her tight perspiring body is his big slick shaft as he lifts her up and down and makes her cry out his name. The stoned teenager visualises the moaning girl’s head as the swollen knob of his cock, and he imagines that when he comes a stream of semen will pour from her mouth in the form of an orgasmic scream.
He returns to the ineluctable reality of their interlinked drunken bodies while Santana’s classic flares in his overloaded sensoria, and as he approaches his explosion Arne discovers he can really feel the young girl, really knows her as an extension of far more than just his erection; it’s as if they share the same emotions. When he slams her down around his cock he can easily imagine – even feel - what Crystal is experiencing and knows what his horny little lover truly wants and needs.
He understands how overwhelmed the girl feels, how she surrenders to his will and lets him take her on a wild ride through her unexplored self with an unflappable glow of unalloyed hope and open-hearted loving trust. Arne has been sorely used and abused by those he’s trusted since infancy, and compassion begins to temper the monk’s teenage egocentricity. He alters his movements to give her what she needs, moving in response to Chrissie’s more subtle ductile rhythms while he reaches for the places she needs to go – and takes her a little further.
“I’ve got a black magic woman who’s got me so blind I can’t see…”
Racheal notes the change in the flow as her eyes rove the bulging musculature of the barely legal young stud. They’re fucking machines, she muses through the raging tides of hormones and unleashed untamable passions that burst through her jostling plasm, wild manimals, thick-headed meat dildos living only for the chance to fuck us… a different species we use for our needs and pleasures…
The redhead comes out of her swoon in a flurry of panting gasps. The priestess smiles at Crystal as she exults in experiencing the soft tactility of another girl for the first time, and her fingers stroke the younger teen’s slim belly while she glories in sharing the girl’s first wild exposure to real live rampant manflesh and pussy-filling hard-cocked sex.
And they imagine it’s a ‘man’s world’ and think they’re using us. The redhead gasps and nods as if in confirmation and Racheal feels a serene feminine kinship with the strange yet familiar girl. She senses Crystal’s kundalini rising in resonance with hers, twin burning serpents flaring and spreading to engorge their cunts and bellies and breasts. She bucks against her prince as he mounts her like a rider atop a steed and she reaches between her thighs to guide his impaling thrusts, while a stranger’s voice breaks from her gasping throat. “Fuck me! Use me! Ohh yeah! OhhFuck me! Ram it into me! Oh yeah, ohh! Don’t stop, ohh, don’t stop ohh OHH!”
Feminine shrieks echo from the plaster walls and Racheal can’t tell which of them is shrieking when both girls lean forward and come again as one. Arne lowers Crystal as she shimmies in his grasp and Racheal rises onto her knees to meet the bouncing prominences of the other girl’s firm young flesh. Their heads rock together cheek to cheek and fall onto each other’s shoulders while their young men’s pistoning motions drive them further forward. Smooth young breasts squeeze and roll together and enflamed nipples burn traces through their Tantrically entwined souls as Racheal wraps her arms around Crystal’s softly sleek and firmly fresh little form.
Each of the blown-away girls is half-smothered in the unfamiliar alluring fragrance of the other’s enveloping cloud of hair - the sweet tang of her sweat, her unique essential unguents and the creamy mingling scents of other lovers fucking. Their firm breasts are pressed closely together and Racheal feels Arne’s broad rough hand squeeze between them to envelop her swollen tit, kneading her tender flesh at a finely drawn boundary between pleasure and discomfort.
The priestess feels a furtive pride when the boy chooses to fondle her larger, fuller breast. Dangerously enticing images of the huge boy filling her flesh and using her for his pleasure waft through Racheal’s enraptured mind. She feels the electric eruption of mind-dissolving heat breaking free from her womb as she sees him picking her up and dropping her onto his hardness – impaling her just as he is Crystal. The unashamedly brazen boy stares into the lust gleaming nakedly in his priestess’s hypnotic eyes as he works his new girlfriend through the indescribably pleasurable ordeal of another helpless screaming frenzy.
Racheal gasps into Arne’s face as she thrashes and writhes around the blazing erection filling her horny belly. Her willful Ramses rides her to the rim of the beyond, fucking her to the limit of her endurance – and the Lady Racheal slips over the brink as she squeezes his balls in her hand, crying out, “Ohh, oohh! Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” as her pouting mouth glides toward Crystal’s.
“No-one told me about her
The way she lied
Well no-one told me about her
How many people cried…”
Ram’yana notices the repetitious strands of coincidental lyrics weaving through the lusty sounds of sex, marimba and guitar - but to the other lovers the sounds are merely a barely-discerned accompaniment, a background soundtrack to the unratable movie of their lucky young lives. As Arne watches the priestess come he decides to let one of Crystal’s hands slip from his grasp, while he continues to pound inside her trim belly with a mechanical automatism – and imagines that it’s Racheal’s delectable flesh that he’s reaming and pleasuring.
“Well it’s too late to say you’re sorry
How should I know, why should I care?
Please don’t bother trying to find her
She’s not there…”
Crystal’s soft feminine lips meet the older girl’s gasping, moaning mouth as Racheal’s orgasm thrills through them all, resonating with the redhead’s screaming climax. The girls’ hands simultaneously reach for the other’s swelling bud. Their clitoral membranes are pumped ripely erect with the inexpressible pleasure of being fucked into another soul-joined frenzy by their inexhaustible teenage males. The youths ride their inspiring mounts over the edge of an awe-inspiring precipice, and the girls’ synchronous orgasm propels them across the gap that barely separates their closely pressed bodies.
The young men roar in a mindless chorus of simultaneous ejaculation, instinctively slamming right up into the grasping, sucking, succulent vessels of responsive feminine flesh as they feel their females’ hot pulsating blood and spasmodically clenching muscles burn at their cocks with feverish orgasmic fervor. They spurt their foaming seeds directly into the quivering wide-open wombs of the screaming teenage girls and grip their slickly smooth wriggling little bodies with the ineluctably immobilising grasps of sex-blinded and fully aroused male primates.
Arne releases his hold on Crystal’s arm and grips her by her hipbones as they all come together in a writhing sweaty mass of slippery skin, bouncing breasts, squelching spunk and flailing hair. Steamy sticky jism spurts across darting feminine fingers as the girls stoke each other’s come-soaked swollen pearls with frenzied rapidity, extending their interlinked orgasms with fervent caresses. They gasp into each other’s wide open mouths when hot sticky fluids fill their loins, and both revel in the unknown luxury of a long, languid kiss without the rasping impediment of masculine stubble.
The cock-filled strangers kiss and grasp each other’s beguilingly slender forms while they explode in a sucking, groaning, gonad-churning simultaneous orgasm with their rampaging young manimals. The lovers all experience an unprecedentedly amazing melding of shared white-hot oblivion and merging empathic awareness, as they come together in a groaning mass of primal protoplasmic fulfillment.
The rapt young women loose the last restraints holding back their unkempt passions and scream in joyous ecstasy. They immerse themselves in an unendurably bright moment of unparalleled bliss - without automatically having to submit to the usual overpowering size and commanding urgency of roughly robust masculine bodies.
“Nobody told me about her
What could I do?
Well no-one told me about her
Though they all knew…”
As the young men emerge from the blazing bombardment of their orgasm and see the face of the other youth’s alluringly beautiful partner coming in mind-blowing animal heat, they’re united in wordless groaning wonder. They race in twinned galloping frenzies through the parting seams of their appreciative mistresses, inspired to resurgent hardness by the beauty of their mates and each other’s indomitable lust. They fuck the girls in time with the music, only subsiding toward a cantering ride when the firmly clenching flesh of both young women finally relaxes into a semi-conscious tangle of supine surrender.
Ram’yana watches Racheal’s fingers tangle in Crystal’s flaming crown while her hands roam the street waif’s slender flesh - and his girl’s steaming seam squeezes around him with an intensely intimate and thoroughly lubricated slippery grip. Racheal’s tongue slips out of Crystal’s mouth and she nudges her way through the bright halo of the panting girl’s hair to look up at Arne’s beaming face. “Oh Chrissie,” the young monk gasps as he licks sweat from the younger girl’s panting body with a drooling oversized tongue, his chip-toothed grin smiling into Racheal’s eyes. “Oh baby, honey, pussycat…”
“Well let me tell you ‘bout the way she looked, the way she acted, the colour of her hair
Her voice is soft and cool, her eyes are clear and bright
But she’s not there…”
“You can put her down now.” The Centraxian priestess attempts a frown as she delivers her order with a demanding edge to her mellow post-orgasmic tone. “And why spill thy seed in her?” As the fey mantle of the Lady Racheal’s archetypal role in the magical court descends upon her, the chameleonic transformation of the hitherto exhausted girl stuns the young monk.
The High Priestess glares up at him through Crystal’s flaming red halo and transfers her hand from her lover’s scrotum to his before the gasping boy can recover his wits. She feels the last spasms of spurting jism jet up from Arne’s hairy roots in response to her touch. T he starkly erotic sensation sends an electric rush thrilling through her and the slowly slumping redhead grunts in response when Racheal pushes her boyfriend’s sticky mass back up into her. “Oohh… ahh… ’T’sallright…” Crystal whispers. “’T ’sokay…”
“Arne…” The priestess smirks as she pats the bedclothes scrunched up beside her flank. “Put the girl down here and answer…”
“Oh, Rache… please…” Arne continues in a rush before she can react to his interruption – or his use of her prince’s personal term of endearment. He lets Crystal’s hand slip completely from his grasp, appearing to accede to her command. “Even if my liege lord can so decree – mmm, baby…” he says as he strokes Crystal’s breasts with both hands, “…and I don’t believe he can - he didn’t actually do so…” He turns Crystal’s twisting torso in his shifting grip and bends down to lap the girl’s conical breasts with his meaty tongue, while Ram’yana chortles with unrestrained mirth and jounces up against his Lady’s cervix.
Racheal gasps as she stares at the younger boy. Damn – he’s right and we all know it. She grasps Arne’s come-soaked hairy balls with a gentle but firm grip and after a moment Crystal follows suit, her fingers reaching between the kneeling blonde’s fluid-slicked thighs to tickle the base of Ram’s slowly pumping organ as Arne gently bites and sucks her throat and shoulder. She grasps the hairy sack of the blonde’s long haired lover and feels a jet of sperm pulse up to swarm deep inside the older girl’s belly in response to her soft electric touch. The girls kiss and caresses their gently undulating bodies while drum solos and screaming guitar riffs pound and resonate between the brick walls of the closely set buildings.
“Cool”, the pinkly flushed freckle-faced teenager says between heaving breaths as she laps at the other girl’s lips and licks her way down to her heaving bosom. Her tongue entwines with Arne’s on Racheal’s pink nipple. “Supercool,” she slurps. “Mmm God… oh sister, thanks for sharing your bed with me… And your man…” She squeezes Ram’s balls and he jerks inside his mate, making her gasp into Crystal’s hair as she squeezes Arne right up into the redhead. “Ooh!”
None of them notice the album has finished until another song penetrates the teenage squatters’ carnal idyll.
“When I get older, losing my hair, many years from now
Will you still be sending me a Valentine, birthday greeting, bottle of wine?”
- R.A.
Lyrics – Goodbye, Ruby Tuesday by The Rolling Stones
Black Magic Woman & She’s Not There by Carlos Santana
When I’m Sixty-Four by The Beatles
images - author's
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Please add your perspective to the collective mind NOW! - Prince Ram'yana