You can change the width of the story text shown below:
Use how much percent of the screen width?
Options: Plain text or PDF (fanclub only!) version | Mark story | Mark author
Don't forget to vote for this story, in the yellow voting box below the story!
Each month she seeks me Her force irresistible My lunatic love
Hier Soir, Je Me Suis Couchee Avec La Pleine Lune
The telephone drops from my hand onto the bed beside me. The sound of your voice—rich with its tones redolent of humid honey—recedes into the distance in my mind. Your words become an echo, the echo becomes a whisper, the whisper becomes the restless summer breeze that disturbs the placid canopy of maple that hangs outside my bedroom window.
I lie naked atop the coarse Moroccan wool blanket, too stirred by our conversation to move. I let that same summer breeze that carries away your voice breathe across me so that I might take in through my eager skin every last phrase, every last syllable. The caress of the breeze is luscious and I am reluctant to be dropped from this embrace into a mundane sleep.
My addiction to this pleasure keeps me too long awake and in the first hours of the new day I become vulnerable to her, my rhythmic lover. My mensual visitor, the thief of sleep. The full moon.
If I don't turn from her, into the safety of repose before her first shafts of light enter my room and wrap a knee or an ankle in her luminous grip, I will be ensnared. And once ensnared, I am her captive—kept from dreams and rest—until she tires of the dance toward morning and pulls her streams of light out of my room and on toward dawn.
Tonight I've missed my chance to elude her and she has caught me up by one leg as I lay in my reverie. I know what is to come and I surrender to her touch and the disturbance it creates in my body, in my mind, in my heart, even in the air around me in the room. The irresistible pull of her seduction into the aliveness of the night. The boundless energy of the female that I am too small to contain but that I can contact and understand.
Her round beauty appears within the frame of my window. Her fingers part the leafy canopy and she begins the seduction in earnest. I know better than to try to control the trembling that begins as she insinuates herself across my body, sliding up one leg and cascading onto the other within minutes. Her light that she exhales silvery-blue, becomes transparent in the air carrying warmth and fragrance in invisible waves that she deposits on my body. My body, my pale white skin, bursts into silvery-blue flame wherever she touches me and I reflect her back to herself. My body is her mirror and slowly, very slowly, she reveals the whole image to herself.
The familiar objects that surround me become animated as she charms them with her light. The scintillating silvery-blue web of her light moves up my thighs, brushing the tiny hairs as she illuminates the undulating landscape of my body. The troubling vibration of my skin under her gaze causes me to subtly and continually shift my position, unable to stay still, fascinated by the changing play of light and shadow across these plains and valleys in which I live.
Her advancing touch enfolds my hips and they rise involuntarily to meet and welcome her. She slithers up and over my belly expanding her silken dominion, spreading it over all my skin. She continues her ascent and mounts my breasts, creating two small full moons to answer her. Her light splashes across my shoulders careens up my throat and spatters my face with gossamer kisses that pull my mouth open. My legs, too, are drawn open to answer the song and she streams into me. I swallow her between damp and trembling lips, pulling her into my body. Breathing her into my body. She comes into me like powdered glass.
She holds me here, an exhausted slave to her relentless conquest, pouring wave after wave of her crystalline fire into my tormented body. Movement cannot release it, the sighs that break from deep in my throat cannot release it, my turbulent mind cannot release it. I am her delighted and delightful playground. She sings, dances, and laughs upon my body. She composes secret verses and slips them inside of me.
At last, long past the limits of my physical endurance, she moves on. She withdraws her all-pervasive touch from me as languorously as she arrived, her fingertips scraping one last strip of skin before receding through the maple leaves that flicker one last time in the remnants of her light. Sweet and welcome sleep draws its shadow through me and I receive the respite of the dispossessed.
I awaken to full sunlight and the day already underway outside my window. In the shadow of my bedroom, I shift my position and feel the lingering sting of moonburn on my flesh. Last night I slept with the full moon.
She is your only rival.
Options: Plain text or PDF (fanclub only!) version for easy saving or printing
ESmail: Click here to send a private message to SheMonster (with ESmail, the site's internal message system)
Profile for SheMonster, incl. 6 stories
Add this author to your favorite author list
Add this story to your favorite story list
Send this story to me through email
Recommend stories for further reading
