Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/SEX/ADULTSHARE/S/SCASTLE8.TXT

Text File | 1994-07-04 | 23.6 KB | 403 lines

SOLSTICE CASTLE PART VIII

(In which our hero, teenaged orphan Jaze, seeking to find the
mysterious green-cloaked stranger who clubbed the Prime Minister
and stole some of the magical royal gemstones, finds himself a
guest at a royal debauch. Having enjoyed the combined favors of
two nubile young cousins and peering at Princess Paleem while
trying to avoid the mysterious assailant, Jaze now stumbles upon
an old acquaintance.)

[...At that moment, the rousing frenzied music slowed and
then ended, with the dark-curled dancer who was swaying in front
of the band slumping to her knees. Few of the revelers took
notice of the change, so caught up were they in their lustful
activities. I took my eyes from the stage and circled around
toward the back of the grassy ampitheatre, hoping to find another
willing beauty who might wish to share in the stiffness that my
observation of Paleem and Rebca had brought on. In doing so, I
failed to notice the tall slim blind-folded woman with a long
linen sack move to the stage....]  [End of Part VII]
--------------------

My eyes made contact with those of Jenfeer, the stunning,
high-breasted young woman with the long, blond braid who had
introduced me to the smoking of the ritual aphrodisiac herbs. The
fair creature was now seated at the edge of the pool, still clad
only in the string of thin chains that cascaded across her hips.
Her long legs were stretched in front of her to allow her feet to
dangle in the warm water, and I now marveled at their absolutely
perfect shape.  She glanced at me and rolled onto her side,
braced on one elbow, and she raised her topmost knee, exposing
her inner flesh to me. Her broad smile to me completed the
unambiguous invitation.
Two high-pitched blasts from the grassy "stage" drew my
glance, as well as at least a quick glance from others who were
not too deeply engaged in their lustful couplings. Phenshraw
himself stepped forward and I noticed for the first time the
woman with the blindfold standing quietly to his right. Could
that be .... ???!!
"My dear friends," the Prince intoned jovially, "we have a
treat tonight beyond all expectations. We have after no little
pleading from my family been able to persuade the Goddess of
Music herself to join in our celebration of the Solstice here in
our summer home and her adopted town of Speysard. She of course
must wear one of our finest silken scarves to protect her eyes
from the glare of the torches" - with that the crowd of nobles
laughed - "oh, and perhaps some of you are not sufficiently
attired that it would be proper for such an honored lady to be
assaulted by the visage of your flabby, white .... uh, rear
ends."  The laughter grew. "Please enjoy the offerings from our
most honored guest, Madame Jeara!"
My jaw dropped to my chest. Madame Jeara! The most famous
floutist in all the land, a reclusive woman whose gifts with the
flute could bring armies to tears and priests to the point of
savagery. Beyond that, she was my own flute instructor. And, yes,
she was my lover, a relationship borne of my adolescent innocence
and her pain at the loss of her husband, whose death in the wars
in the East had sent her into refuge at Speysard. Her earnings
had permitted her to acquire and live at a home out on the
cliffs, where she spent her days playing dirgelike paens to her
lost husband, but would play no further performances.
When Madame Jeara's friends had implored her to work through
her grief by resuming some contact with the world, she
compromised by agreeing to give flute lessons to the two best of
the flute students in the local schools. With all modesty, I must
concede that I had shown considerable aptitude for the flute, and
few boys could challenge my skills as music was not considered to
be the most masculine of pursuits by most young men. When I
arrived for my first lesson with my slender, bookish classmate
Linna, I was surprised to discover that the legendary figure was
not a middle-aged matron, but a tall, grey-eyed woman in her late
twenties, with long, straight hair with naturally alternating
streaks of ash blonde and light brown.
Jeara (as she insisted we call her) carried herself with quiet
solemnitude, and Linna and I at first felt reluctant to continue
with the lessons, feeling that they were little more than the
product of Jeara's sense of obligation to carry out the wishes of
her concerned friends.  The two of us practiced madly between
lessons in order to please her, much to the dismay of Brother
Bartone, whose cell at the monastery was above my quarters. After
a few weeks, Jeara's attitudes toward Linna and me began to warm,
as she discovered, as do many, that in teaching one must
articulate the basis of one's craft and can often enhance one's
own skills in that discipline.
Between us, Linna and I had plotted to further bring Jeara out
of her melancholy. Beyond our efforts to please her by constant
practice, my  brown-haired classmate and I would compose silly
parodies of popular tunes, taking off wildly in flights of
whimsy, while showing sufficient respect for each melody's
structure to demonstrate some virtuosity. From these rehearsals,
a warm, platonic friendship developed between Linna and I, and I
looked forward to our practice sessions and the opportunity to
make her freckled nose crinkle in mock disgust at my sometimes
crude attempts at composition.  Linna clearly was the far more
accomplished musician and envisioned herself a professional
musician in a few years. Although from her shyness she was
considered by our classmates to be aloof, she was bright beyond
measure. Linna was fully aware what an extraordinary gift had
been handed to her in the lessons from Jeara, who she worshipped
to the point of emulating her clothing style.
I thought back to that magical, warm afternoon only a few
months earlier where so much changed among the three of us. I had
completed my chores at the monastery early and scampered up the
dusty road to Jeara's cliffside home to arrive early, in the hope
that she might assist me in some of the more difficult passages
she had taught us so that I might catch up to Linna's skills.  My
light knock on Jeara's door went unanswered, but I could hear her
flute wafting from beyond the thin wood. I slipped inside and
headed through her main parlor to her back deck overlooking the
open sea. The back door was pushed open to permit the breeze to
cool the home, and through it I could see Jeara seated and
leaning against a balustrade, her eyes closed, and her flute in
hand.
She was playing a melody the beauty of which my simple talents
cannot begin to describe. Her improvised melody captured the
breeze, and the sea - and her loneliness at the loss of someone
dear. The dirge shifted into almost a military cadence, evoking
images of her lost husband. One could almost see him in his
uniform, tall and commanding.
The melody then softened, grew more intimate, as the man came
to her - yes, there was a melody by which she described herself:
sure and gifted, but still open and submissive.  The two of them
jousted playfully, then more seriously. The pitch then lowered in
pitch and volume, and my own loins stirred with the aural image
of the soldier stroking the bare flesh of his lover, Jeara.
Sadly, the music started to fade, as though the two years
since his death had started to unravel the fabric of her memory
of him. I saw a tear of frustration bead at the corner of one of
her closed eyes. I do not know what possessed me at my moment,
but I somehow decided to pull my own flute from my belt and
respond with a simple melody of my own, crafted on the spot. I
tried to mimic her own smoky capture of the soldier's strength
and grace, but unsurprisingly re-made him into an earnest but
somewhat gawky young footsoldier.
Upon hearing my notes in my characteristic style, Jeara merely
smiled wryly, and let her instrument fall from her lips. As my
own playing began to flag in embarassment, her eyes opened and
looked warmly toward mine, encouraging me to continue. She
recognized that however limited might be my skills, I was truly
beginning to feel the beckonings of the muse, and the powers of
the music to capture and explore human emotions. With her eyes,
Jeara beckoned me to recline behind her, while continuing my
playing. As I lay back, she rested her head on my shoulder and
joined in my tune.
With her wonderful tone, she guided me further into our tale,
reassuring the young footsoldier to not be shy with the older
widow. She replayed the sensual tone that had drawn me outside,
and I nearly recoiled in shock at the intimacies suggested by the
melody line. I suddently became aware that the softness of her
slim flank was resting against my hip, and that the fragrance of
her long, silken tresses gathered at the swell of my throat and
wafted around me. I tentatively responded to her musical
invitation, and she playfully teased me with snippets of sexy,
ribald musical cliches.  I grew more forceful with the sexual
energy of the young, and she dared me to proceed further. I
pressed on, with an almost cacaphonous fervor, my own young cock
beginning to swell in my breeches. I began a salacious cadence,
strong firm. She matched my own, hotly, and we lunged together
harder and harder, higher and higher in pitch. I went on,
synchronously stroking in a furious glissando, when I suddenly
realized where I was and with whom I was engaged in this musical
lovematch. Ideas fled from my young, amateurish lyrical heart,
and I could only crash with the hellish heat of climax, spurting
out blast after blast. Her flute soared while mine dipped, as we
went on for what seemed like minutes. Playfully, as if to
complete the story, we slowly descended with ever softer pulses
and nips, and finally stopped and lay our flutes aside.
We sat there for a long moment, she looking out to sea; I
gazing in the same direction over her shoulder. Our breath came
out in surprised pants. My mouth dropped open in stunned
exhaltation. Never had I experienced such a musical epiphany, and
I expected that I never would again. Jeara slowly turned her head
and shoulders to me, bracing herself with a hand on my thigh. I
saw the first unabashed smile I had ever seen from her:
"Welcome," her eyes seemed to say, "to this new place where magic
is created from music."
She laughed aloud at the stunned expression on my face, and
her free hand cupped my cheek in friendly greeting. Her other
hand patted the thigh on which it rested.  Alas, on that spot was
the tip of my now fully-erect young staff, still stimulated to
the brink by our sensual concert.
A range of emotions swept across her beautiful face then:
surprise, embarrassment, and flattered pleasure. Our eyes locked
for a moment and her breath seemed to catch, and then Jeara
leaned forward and locked her arms around my neck. She pressed
her lips sweetly to mine, and then pressed her body to me firmly.
I hesitated for only a moment, and then I pressed my arms
around her waist and returned her kiss, communicating not only my
adolescent, ever-present lusts, but my love and affection for
this stunning woman who had opened this new territory to me. As
the tender kiss continued, her hands began to explore me, to
reacquaint herself with the body of a man. Emboldened, I allowed
my own hands to drift over her torso, and I became enflamed by
each slender swell and dip of her magnificence. Her loins pressed
against mine, grinding her soft mons against my straining
hardness.
Opening her eyes, Jeara broke the kiss but moved her face only
inches from mine. Her unwavering stare probed me; I answered with
hope, affection, confidence, and not a little lust. Seemingly
satisfied with my response, Jeara pushed herself up off my
shoulder and rose to her feet. Wordlessly, she dropped a hand to
me, and I stood up, the front of my breeches now fully tented.
Taking my hand in hers, she led me into the house, through the
parlor, and down the hall to a large bedroom that also opened
onto a deck facing the sea. It was simply furnished, with only a
large but simple bed, a nightstand with basin and candle, and a
dresser.
Turning to face me, Jeara took hold of the hem of my shirt and
drew it quickly over my head, cocking her head and smiling in
acknowledgment at my slim but muscular form. My stupor at the
series of events that led me to her bed chamber could not keep
from me the realization that I had never seen Jeara so happy, so
playful -- so *alive*. Her hands then quickly undid my belt and
tugged my breeches to the floor. As my feet stepped out of them,
her slim fingers drew up my thighs and then swirled around my
throbbing, exposed member, measuring me, toying with me,
enrapturing me.
As I groaned in pleasure, Jeara gently let go and turned her
back to me. I picked up her hint and unfastened the drawstring at
her neck which held up her linen robe. When she paused, I drew
the garment over her shoulders and down her dangling arms. I
leaned forward and kissed the sloping valley between neck and
shoulder, then drew my lips down the middle of her back, taking
the robe further down ahead of me. Her generous but taut ass came
into view, and I dropped to one knee and rubbed my cheek against
one soft buttock as the robe finally pooled at her feet.
I turned the standing woman to face me, and found my eyes no
more than an inch from her downy valley. I pressed my lips to the
center of her soft, light-colored pubic locks in tribute. My
pursed lips descended to the opening of her fleshy folds, and the
aroma of her arousal ascended to greet me. I kissed, I chewed, I
worshipped those lips. My tongue stroked along the edge of the
cleft, and then hungily slid inside, savoring her intimate
juices. My hands, which were gently stroking her thighs, felt
them quiver with tension and anticipation.
After long moments where her murmered endearments rose to
muffled groans, she brought her fingers to opposite sides of my
cheek and bid me to rise to my feet. As I did, her mouth again
clamped onto mine, and her teeth nibbled at my lower lip.  My
hands brushed against the small, light-pink nipples that capped
her modest but perfectly shaped breasts.
Together, we descended to the bed, and she pushed at my
shoulders to have me lay on my back, as she knelt next to my
hips. Her slender fingers again clutched at my stalk, but now
firmly. She slowly drew her hand up and down several times, and I
feared that I might spend if she were to continue too long.
A bead of my seed gathered at the tip. She leaned over as
thought to examine my emission, and then barely parted her lips
and took the reddened tip inside her mouth. I almost exploded as
I felt her soft tongue tap at the pre-cum, and then slide over
the lust-moistened end. After laving my rod for a moment, she
slowly glided her wonderful lips back to the tip with slight
suction, drawing the substance inside her. In my adolescence, I
must confess, I could not help but think of what magic that this
woman, the most accomplished floutist of our time, might bring to
such oral ministrations upon my straining cock.
However, Jeara then pulled her mouth away altogether, and rose
up onto her knees. The ash-blonde woman threw her legs over my
hips so that her pussy rested just above my erection, and she
guided me inside her with a sure hand. With only two firm pushes,
I was completely inside her wet, tight glove. She rested her
hands on my shoulders and then began to rock her loins on my
hips, drawing me out of and then into her center of passions. I,
on my back, clutched her hips and moved my own hips up to meet
her fevered pushes. I gloried in the heated pressure of her tight
walls on my burgeoning sword, as we continued our dance.
Her eyes flickered open and her mouth drew into an ecstatic
rictus of pleasure as I further lunged up. She began to hum
lightly, using her pitch, as well as the pace of her own hips to
guide my tempo. She soon began to ride me faster, and I
concentrated on postponing my own release until I was sure hers
had come. I finally was rewarded with a muffled, shrill hum and
felt her cunt muscles contract with pulsating jerks. I then cried
out my own release, gasping as the seed spurted from me and
filled the older woman's chamber. I lurched up again and again,
spending deep into her each time.
As our ecstacy subsided, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the
gentle sensations of Jeara's hugging moist channel on my
deflating manhood. Long moments of such ecstacy accompanied by
the warmth of the late afternoon sun completed my reverie.
Without warning, I felt her tense, and my eyes shot open. I
looked up and saw her eyes dart in horror toward the door. My
eyes followed, and saw standing in the doorway the slender Linna,
flute bag in hand, her brown eyes welling with tears. Her lips
quivered, and she barely blubbered, "No - not the two of you; not
together!" With a wail, she disappeared from the doorway.
Jeara slid off my now soft member, and we both quickly stood.
Jeara threw on her robe and went after the young student, while I
wrestled with my shirt and breeches. I came out to the main
parlor, where I found the two women huddled on the couch. Linna's
face was buried in Jeara's chest, and I could see the girl's
light-brown curls and shoulders heave with her sobs. I crept by
and motioned to Jeara that I would leave, but she instead
motioned me to sit in a chair opposite them.
Through her sobs, Linna somehow explained that in coming up
the hills she heard the sensual, and ultimately sexual, duets
between Jeara and me. Realizing that I somehow had been elevated
to some sphere of musical awareness that she, Linna - considered
the more musical of the two of us - had not yet grasped. She
crept into the house in curiosity, and saw the two of us embrace
and then retire to Jeara's bedchamber for a lustful tryst. Crying
into Jeara's chest, Linna now conceded that her despondency had
at that point become complete, as she saw the two people who she
most admired and loved - musically, spiritually and physically -
were now locked into a union that could only exclude her.
As Linna finished her confession, Jeara and I sat in stunned
silence. Suddenly, I realized how much my affection for the
brilliant talents of this quiet, button-nosed girl really meant
to me, and how much I physically cherished her as well. Jeara
rocked the young girl in her arms, and Linna's tears finally
subsided. Jeara then quietly explained how I had come upon her
grieving playing and had joined the performance, which had led to
our out-of-control joining. Jeara explained, "Linna, dear, there
is nothing to prevent you from performing with me in such a duet
as well." She suddenly blushed as she realized the potential
double meaning of her words.
Linna looked into her face with serious, red-brimmed eyes and
protested, "But that's the point. How can I match the passion of
your playing, and Jaze's, when the lust you can feel for him is
what I feel for you and" - there, Linna turned to me - "and I've
felt for the longest time for Jaze but you two don't for me?"
Again, we sat in silence. Linna closed her eyes, as she could not
bear to watch us after admitting such dual loves.
Jeara commended me to her with a soft, "Jaze." As I came
over, she beckoned me to pick up the slender Linna, and led me
back to her bedroom, with the girl in my arms. I gently dropped
Linna's feet to the floor while holding her shoulders. The girl's
eyes remained close until she felt the kiss on her lips, and,
upon opening her eyes, was openly startled to discover that the
lips were not mine, but those of Jeara.
Together then, Jeara and I stripped the flower-embroidered
blouse from Linna's form and her full skirt from around her
waist. We then disrobed each other and softly laid Linna back
onto the bed. The older woman and I knelt beside her and took
turns kissing the girl while allowing our hands to gently roam
over her torse, lightly tweaking at the small, barely ripe
breasts and lightly-furred mound of her loins. Our lips soon
followed our hands, nipping and caressing her soft skin. She soon
began to smile in raw pleasure at the sensualness of the
pampering. Before long, however, the girl's sexual urges took
over, and she began to almost wildly swing her head and legs
about, finally shrieking as Jeara took the girl's virginal pussy
lips between her teeth and began tugging at licking at Linna's
sex.
One of Linna's flailing arms finally descended upon my re-
swollen organ as I knelt beside her, and then her hand twisted
around to grasp its thickness. Linna turned her sweet face toward
me and impatiently flicked one of her lush brown curls away from
her eyes. She then arched her neck toward me and took my thick
cock into her pink lips. Her tongue lapped at the underside of
the head and then swabbed at the tip, and I could tell she was
exploring and savoring the taste of both my swollen cock and the
the residue of Jeara's cuntal juices.
Linna's eyes flickered up to mine, and she kept them locked on
me as she continued to nibble and lave at my engorged rod. The
look of love and happiness and relief on her face gave to her a
beauty that not even the most renowned of concubines could ever
hope to match. She then closed her eyes and threw her face
forward, drawing me further inside her heated mouth and bringing
me closer to spending once again.
I pulled away and Linna instinctively drew her leg that was
closest to me toward her chest. Needing no further communication,
Jeara pulled her hungering mouth away from the girl and, with a
soft tug at my thigh, guided me into the saddle of Linna's
widespread thighs. Jeara darted to the head of the bed and sat
sideways, allowing Linna to rest her head on the musician's lap.
Linna moaned slightly as my cock passed the portals of her
inexperienced pussy, but she made no further complaint as I made
my way inside her, except for one sharp intake of breath as I
slowly ripped away the shield of her virginity. Throughout this
entry, Jeara soothed the girl with gentle strokes of her temple,
shoulders and breasts. After my pentration was complete and I
began the most gentle surges I could muster, Jeara leaned over
and gently kissed Linna, their tongues encircling and joining. My
stroking of Linna went on.
In only a few moments, Linna emitted a soft, keening whine
into Jeara's mouth as her spasms came over her. I waited until
sure of her climax, and then permitted my own explosion, drawing
a quick, surprised chirp from Linna as she felt the warmth of my
seed splash inside her.
After a respite of only a few moments, Linna slid from the
bed and pulled us outside, where she picked up our flutes. The
three of us sat in the nude on the edge of the low wall
protecting Jeara's deck from the surrounding cliffs, and began
playing. We allowed Linna to take the lead, playing of children
scampering around a pond, chasing a big green frog (with my
impression of a basso frog nearly ending the concert from the
women's laughter), and then telling of the young lovers who come
to the pond to lie on its banks and engage in their trysts. The
flutes of the two extraordinarily talented women soared over the
milling gulls, while I, in my near exhaustion, contented myself
with taking on the role of the willing but not-too-aggressive
young men. Only darkness and the treacherousness of the unlit
road back to the village ended the concert.
The final memories of that day some months before - of Linna
and I strolling hand in hand back to the village - resounded
through my head here in the ampitheatre at the crest of Solstice
Castle as I watched the blind-folded Jeara pick up her flute and
begin to perform for the assembled royals and the young maids who
cavorted with them....
[End of Part VIII]