by M J Marstens
Zahra is practically panting at this point, envisioning my words.
What a dirty, filthy, little girl.
And how much fun I’m going to have with her. . . after we get to some safety.
I lean in to lightly kiss her lips.
“Hmmm, is that something you would want to see?” I ask again.
Her eyelids flutter shut as she leans into me, allowing my arms to sweep her up.
“Yes,” she whispers, in a breathy voice that nearly undoes me.
“Well that is unfortunate,” I murmur back wickedly. “Because we are all straight.”
Then I kiss her fully, drinking in her petal-soft lips and focusing on the feeble combining of our energies to materialize us higher up.
CHAPTER 13
ZAHRA
I pull back to glare at the ass-rash who purposely just wound me up.
How dare he pretend to mutually jack off Mio!
First he ruins Disney and now this. . . will the torture never end?!
Well, he won’t be getting any more kisses from me until I see this happen. I mean, now I want a front row seat- with some popcorn.
And a vibrator.
A yellow one.
I turn my back on the shameless liar to find we are not standing in the faery ring anymore.
“Wha. . . How the fu. . .”
Words escape me in my confusion.
Dickbag just laughs. That’s ok. Laugh it up, pal. Next time I see Mio, I’m going to tell him what you said. . . except add some things, like you secretly fantasize about this. . . Now I’m grinning evilly. I love to cause sexual pandemonium.
“I materialized us higher, so we would be safer. The fae are earthbound, and while they can climb, they will likely not attempt to reach us here.” He explains in answer to my stupid stuttering.
Here is a tall plateau that overlooks the vast field of rippling violet grass. The sun is descending in the sky, turning it a sickly shade of greenish-orange. Somehow, it still is a glorious sight to behold.
“I thought you were too ‘weak’ to do anything,” I taunt.
“I gained momentary energy from our combined desire to make it feasible.”
“Oh, so that little story had a point?” I snark, still butthurt he and Mio wouldn’t be doing anything together for real.
Again, nothing but a laugh.
I huff and spin back to look over the horizon. I wonder. . . would us fucking give Nyam enough energy to jump up a dimension? I ask him.
“It might,” he shrugs. “But I’m not leaving you here alone.”
“You said it was safe up here,” I protest.
“I said the fae probably will not attempt to come up here. Again, probably. Not certainly. At least I can use my light to blind them or even incinerate them. What are you going to do? Turn them into hideous, miniature horse’s dicks?”
Speaking of turning someone into a horse’s dick. . .
I let my vindictive thoughts pass and think about something else. I felt something odd when Nyam kissed me. A spark that felt like something more than just lust. I decide I need to pursue this, in the name of god-powered science!
Stepping forward, I plant my hands on Nyam’s golden chest. He tenses, like I’m about to shove him on his ass (and I totally should!), and then groans when I trace a hand down his torso to lightly dance fingers over the growing bulge in his pants.
I lick my lips suggestively, and he takes the invitation, his mouth descending swiftly over mine. His tongue sweeps into my mouth and duels with mine. I’ve stopped petting his dick to take a more aggressive stance of outrightly stroking him. I quickly unzip his pants to get that skin on skin contact I crave and think:
This would be a lot easier if we were both naked. . .
. . . I blink when I suddenly find neither of us are wearing clothes.
“Don’t waste your energy, mon coeur,” Nyam teases.
Hot damn, I did that? And I don’t know what he is talking about. . . getting naked quicker does not sound like a waste of energy to me.
I jump him then. . . literally. Not expecting that move, he stumbles back a bit, giving me time to securely wrap my legs around his waist. He growls when I rub my wet center over the top of his cock. I continue to devour his mouth while I test both our sanity.
I shimmy up a bit, intent on impaling myself on his dick. . . god, I’ve needed this.
But the fucker won’t let me!
We grapple for a minute, playing ‘just the tip’, before Nyam spins me around and sets me on my feet. He hooks an arm to anchor my back to his chest and snakes his other hand down to cup my needy pussy.
“This isn’t your show, sweetheart, so quit trying to run it.” He croons.
Hmph, the fuck it ain’t!
I try to bite his arm, but it’s too far down for me to reach. I fleetingly wish I had longer teeth to accomplish the task, but quickly discard the idea before I grow a pair of walrus tusks. There’s no recovering the moment if that happens.
“Quit squirming!” He commands. “Or I won’t let you come, and then all this will be is me with my dick in your mouth, coming down the back of your throat. I want to make sure that sweet, little pussy is prepared for me, so do as you are told.”
“I’m the fucking Goddess of Sex! I think my vagina is more than prepared,” I quip, but then I calm down a little, taking in his words.
I guess it won’t hurt to let him give me an orgasm. . .
Or two. . .
Or three.
I promptly shut up and I’m rewarded with him shoving two fingers inside my drenched core. I give a small hum of approval and shift my hips to send his fingers seeking deeper inside me. The arm on my chest moves to cup my right breast and I use my left hand to play with the other side. Rolling my nipples in tandem, I toss my head back against his shoulder and moan.
He leans forward to nip my right shoulder.
“That’s it, mon coeur, moan for me. I want to make you sing.”
His fingers quicken and he drops his other hand to rub a staccato beat over my throbbing clit. At the rate he’s going, I’m about to belt out an aria. And thank fuck he seems to be over teasing me.
Up, up, up I go. . .
I can feel my thigh muscles begin to tingle in anticipation, my sex tightening down around Nyam’s fingers. He gives one more savage thrust and twist of digits and I’m gone.
I let bliss wash over me as my orgasm ebbs to quivering little aftershocks of pleasure.
I love this asshole’s fingers, I think in post-climatic bliss.
And then I think: Ew, an asshole with fingers?!
Oh no! Think of something else! Think of something else!
Hoping I’m not making asshole fingers come into fruition, I think of anything else- without trying to kill my mood.
Nyam naked. . . Nyam’s naked cock dragging against my ass. . . Nyam’s giant-feeling cock covered in chocolate sauce. . . Nyam’s whole body covered in Jif peanut butter. . .
“What the fuck? Goddammit, Zahra!”
I whirl around, praying there are no fingers poking out of his ass.
Whoops. . .
The Sun god is covered in patches of peanut butter, a dark contrast to his golden skin, and his dick is covered with chocolate sauce. . .
With whip cream. . .
And a cherry on top.
Huh, a chocolate cock sundae. . .
This time I do tackle him to the ground. Primarily to shut him up, but also because I’m starving and he looks delectable, dick and all. I set the cherry aside and quickly lick off all the whip cream before bobbing my head down as far as I can go. . .
Which is surprisingly far. Apparently being the Goddess of Sex means not only having no gag reflex, but the illusion of an endless throat. Because damn if Nyam is not a monster. . . and damn if I didn’t swallow him like a pro.
I don’t know where I contrived this chocolate from, but it tastes amazing, melding perfectly with the salty tang of Nyam’s precum. I know using our
powers is supposed to make us weaker, but I feel invigorated. I guess a little chocolate will do that to a girl.
I finish sucking all the sauce off and climb up to straddle his hips. Before he can do or say anything (this was his show, hmmm?), I position his cock at the entrance of my impatient slit and start riding him- hard.
He watches me with clouded eyes, his hands gripping my hips while I work to a frantic speed.
“Slow down, mon coeur, you are going to pass out before either of us can peak,” he orders.
He rolls me under him and I laugh when chunks of peanut butter fall off with the movement. He gives me a fierce frown and slams back inside of me. Pinning my arms above my head, he begins moving with a less frenetic tempo.
Our eyes lock as I raise my hips to meet his halfway. His face sports a gentle grin, which belies the look of intensity in his gaze. I try to buck underneath his weight, but he holds me still, continuing to control the maddening pace. Mischievously, I squeeze my sex around his like a vice and watch his throat convulse as he swallows hard.
“Keep that up. . .” He warns ominously.
I grin wickedly in return.
If he insists. . .
I compress myself tighter and tighter and I feel Nyam swell inside of me, his magnificent girth stretching me wide. Finally, he breaks and starts driving forward faster and faster like I have wanted this entire time. His image blurs as he grows brighter and brighter.
I close my eyes to the intensity of his light and cry out in shock when my orgasm surges out of nowhere. Nyam quickly follows and it feels like someone has poured liquid heat inside of me. I arch my back and claw him closer, trying to make us one.
This is exactly what I needed.
CHAPTER 14
ZAHRA
We are both lying down, panting, and I realize there is barely any light left to see. Luckily, Nyam is still glowing. . . and it makes me wonder. . . was I the one who made the light back on the moon when I was stuck in the dark caves? I try to think back. At the time, I had thought it was Nyam and he would say something corny like ‘let there be light’ and then there was. . .
And again, my body is suffused in a soft rosy light- not nearly as bright as Nyam’s, but like a gentle nightlight found inside a four-year-old’s pretty princess bedroom. Well, this is not the time to complain, and I’m far too lazy to do so in my post-coitus state. But I do wonder, if I can so easily make myself a living flashlight, can I change my coloring, too?
I raise my left hand and concentrate intently on it.
Turn peach.
Turn peach.
Turn peach.
“Aaaahhhh!” I howl.
Nyam startles next to me and swiftly rolls to his feet, ready to take on whatever has caused my distress. I assume he thinks it’s the fae. . . not that I have turned my hand into a succulent, Georgia peach.
Of course, he laughs uproariously, like it’s the funniest damn thing he has ever seen.
“Stop being such a cock-a-doodle-do.”
“What did you call me?” He chokes out, barely able to breathe between his guffaws.
“A cock-a-doodle-doo. . . I’m trying to be more spontaneous with my swearing,” I reply, with as much dignity as I can muster with having a piece of fruit for an appendage.
“Well, stop. It’s disturbing. You’re like a preschooler attempting to cuss.”
Sheesh, what a cock-a-doodle-asshat.
Creativity should never be curbed.
“What the hell am I going to do with this,” I ask testily, brandishing my ‘hand’ at him.
“Easy,” he says, stepping forward.
He grabs my swinging arm and raises the peach to his mouth. I listen intently. I need to know whatever incantation he mutters so I can change myself back in case I accidentally (probably) do this to myself again. He holds the ochre-colored produce to his lips. . .
And takes a fucking bite!
“Aaahhh!” I yell again. “You ate me!”
I alternate between staring at my hand/peach, now dripping juice down my arm, and screaming.
That cock-a-doodle-asshat ate a chunk of my fucking hand! Never mind it’s actually a piece of fruit right now- he still ate it!
Nyam can barely hold himself together, doubling over (again) in mirth. I really fail to see the humor here, people! I shake my fruit hand, but accomplish nothing but getting sticky droplets of its juice in my eye. Ok, what would Gran do? What is my silver lining here?
Nyam leans forward again, like he is going to take another bite. I react on instinct and quickly stuff the sweet treat in my mouth. There is no way that dick is eating any more of me! I will do it myself, just to spite him. And damn. . . I taste delicious! Like sunshine and summer.
I happily slurp at the dwindling snack and finish it off in three bites, leaving only a pit and a stumpy arm. Now is not the time to give your support, Trust Tree friends. I think it might be best if we just let this one slide by without another comment. As long as Nyam keeps his big, fat mouth shut, we can all just pretend this never happened.
Nyam reaches for the peach pit I’m holding in my right hand. Still feeling petty and slightly vindictive, I hold it out of his range.
“Not for you!” I shout spitefully. “Let’s just figure out a way to get out of this dimension.”
I throw the pit and send it sailing off the plateau into the inky abyss of the ground below.
Night has truly fallen, and Nyam and I are the only things I can see. Hopefully the fae will not be inclined to investigate the source of light. . .
A boom suddenly rocks the world beneath us and Nyam and I stumble and fall to our knees. Fuck- I spoke too soon! The fae are coming! The fae are coming!
I realize I mentally sound like the Paul Revere of the fourth dimension and tell myself to calm down. Easier said than done. . . considering how the planet is rolling around, as if seized in a chaotic and confused earthquake.
I let out a whimper. Minnesota doesn’t have earthquakes. We have snow blizzards. I know what to do in that scenario. . . not this one. I cling to Nyam. . . we are going to die. And we are still naked. . . and I’m missing a hand. . .
God, we are going to have the worst eulogies ever. . .
I can imagine it now: Major and Minor gods, we are gathered here today to honor the memories of our brethren Sun the Fun and Venus the Genius. And while Sun lived up to his name, given their state of undress, sadly Venus did not- if her lack of left hand and their deaths are any indication. . .
Suddenly, something big is rocketing towards us- fast. It shoots past us into the sky above. It looks like. . .
A giant peach tree.
Oops. . .
Nyam just palms his face.
Leaning over the side of the plateau, the Sun god beams a light down below. It’s so intense that I can see everything. The tree trunk stretches for miles down and coils upward, almost like a vine or a mythical beanstalk. But instead of being rooted in the ground, the tree disappears into what looks like a black hole.
“Zahra,” Nyam breathes. “You created a pocket!”
“I did what now?”
“You made a pocket to another realm- either the third or fifth!”
He sounds astounded. . .
“Well, I’m the ‘maiden of light’,” I tease.
He looks pensively over at me.
“What are you thinking?” I ask reflexively.
I don’t trust the look on his face right now- I’m still butthurt about him eating my hand.
“That explains why you can make light. Albeit weak and faint, you still produce it. Perhaps that explains how you opened the portal to another realm.”
I shrug. I’m not a quantum physics expert. I’m an astrologer.
“Here,” Nyam says, waving a hand. We are suddenly clothed again, and the golden god of light is striding off towards the edge of the cliff.
And then he jumps off.
My heart nearly stops. I’m not cut out for this crap!
“N
yam!” I scream, running to the precipice.
I know the man is a god, but does that mean he can fly?
“Come on, mon coeur!”
I peer cautiously over the side. Nyam is not flying, but sliding down the peach tree.
Would a heads-up have been too much to ask for?
No, right? Sheesh.
And I don’t know about you, but I’m not overly fond of the idea of jumping off an overhang to a tree that grew from the seed of my hand. Weirdest thing to think ever. . . Also, I’m missing my left extremity and my hand-eye coordination leaves little to be desired. . . even when I’m working with two. . . The chances of me missing the tree trunk altogether and falling straight into the pit of darkness are pretty high.
I think I’ll just let Nyam go check this out on his own. . . until I hear an inhuman screech. Galvanized to move back to the rim, I peak over. Nyam is beaming his light down and while the black hole still exists, things are beginning to crawl out from the ground next to it. . . and climb up the tree.
My genius guess (this time): the fae.
Nyam looks back up at me, a hint of fear etching itself across his face. Not good. I panic when other people panic. I’m a total sheeple, I admit it!
“Zahra, we need to go now!” He roars at me. “Just jump!”
“I can’t! I’m a weeny!” I bawl, waving my one hand and stump around like a lunatic.
“For fuck’s sake Zahra, give yourself a hand and get down here!”
His tone and words snap me out of my freak out.
“Shut up, you Douche-a-roo! You think this is as easy as ‘Wham, Bam, Thanks for the Hand’?!”
I shake my stump at him, but of course, an elegant, pink hand now graces it again.
Figures.
Time to suck it up. . .I take a deep, shuddering breath and leap.
CHAPTER 15
ZAHRA
I probably should have looked first.
At least I make it to the tree. . . but I also get a mouthful of twigs and leaves. Nyam has climbed back up to me and picks me up to settle me in his lap.