Vulcan

Vulcan, May 20, 24—Jack had meticulously arranged everything, leaving me with nothing to do but sit back and await the surprise he had in store. Yet despite this being the third time he had orchestrated such a tryst, I found myself a bundle of nerves, unable to relax and simply wait for the unveiling arrival of my titillating surprise. That evening, I had carefully selected a cheeky powder-blue sundress with a dangerously short skirt to highlight my assets. My inner goddess took things a step further. In advance, I had wickedly opted to divest myself of my delicates. The cool AC wafted up my legs, teasing the teeny hem of my dainty skirt, whispering and cooling my exposed and apprehensive nethers. As I paced, I could not help but wonder if Jack had a bit of Pan, the god of nature's blood, humming in his veins, for he was cool as a cucumber. Unlike me, who was wearing a tread on the carpet or anxiously thrumming fingertips on the coffee table. Perhaps it was because he'd already interviewed and shared a drink with the anticipated Roman god Vulcan. That, combined with his sage experience, Jack could sit back and simply enjoy the show flickering on the screen. My only solace was my trust in my love, and my inner goddess's insatiable yearning and curious nature. Also, I had a golden ticket. Before heading to Jack's, I had slipped a ruby teddy with satin ribbons criss-crossing my ample cleavage into my overnight bag. Jack had only seen provocative photos of the negligee, but never the pure embodiment. My inner goddess smirked at our cleverness. The god announced his arrival with a firm, resounding knock on the door. Ah! The Olympian was there, mere feet away. I rose and smoothed the wrinkles from my cotton skirt. The Vulcan stood, head and shoulders above me. This detail made my inner goddess's toes curl. His serene, warming smile put me instantly at ease, especially since I'd clumsily fumbled and went for a handshake instead of a hug. His ruffescent, button-down shirt highlighted his complexion and contrasted with his sharp, dark-washed jeans and smart shoes. This handsome, well-dressed god exuded a quiet confidence that drew out my inner goddess in an almost palpable force. From his tall, stately appearance, broad shoulders, swollen biceps, taunt abdomen and thick, trunk-like thighs, Vulcan's entire body spoke of imposing strength, while his quick wit revealed a keen mind quick to analyze and create. The next forty or so minutes were spent on the plush leather couch in light but engaging conversation as we sipped our individual drinks, Riesling for me, Michelob for Jack, and spiced rum, neat, for the noble god. Both well-spoken and already familiar with each other, Jack and Vulcan chatted with relaxed ease, enabling me to study the dashing Vulcan over the rim of my fluted wineglass. We were sitting so close that our knees rasped with every minute adjustment. Behind me, Jack's fingers traced the small of my back, sending currents of affirmation into my lifeblood. The power of the two men on either side of me drove my inner goddess to take decisive matters into her own hands. I had already alluringly detached one earring and then the other, placing them on the table of my necklace. Despite this hint, the conversation continued to flow around me. With a part sniff, my inner goddess rolled her eyes. Not to be deterred, I falsified my reason and excused myself for the en suite. Once in the other room, I slipped into the silk and lace teddy I had hidden beneath a towel and fluffed my sapphire curls, scrutinizing my makeup one last time in the mirror. Ready. I passed from the en suite into the bedroom and promptly froze, just out of sight of the living room. Suddenly, my flirtatious gumption had inconsiderately abandoned me. I felt brash and brazen. This was a terrible idea! Was I going to put undue pressure on the newly acquainted god? What if I embarrassed Jack and appeared to be a flagrant trumpet? I retreated, determined to revert into my coquettish sundress. No! stated my inner goddess. Yes! This was totally the wrong move! I argued back. My voice pregnant with trepidation. Last time, Jack said it was okay to take the lead, my inner goddess retorted firmly. Jittery, I bounced on my toes, wrinkling the chiffon lapel of my robe. I wavered before countering. This isn't taking the lead, this is shoving the prospect in their face. Peek around the corner, and I'll prove to you I'm right, my inner goddess was doggedly determined. On the silent tiptoe, I edged to the doorway, hoping to circumspectly catch Jack's watchful eye. Though only the open space of the dining room separated the living room from the bedroom, I could not determine Jack's countenance in the dim lighting. I tried again, thumbs up with a questioning nod. At that point, my disconcerted mind kind of grayed out, and I could not make out Jack's exact response. Boldly, or foolishly, I simply found myself promenading toward the sofa on imaginary heels, keeping my eyes riveted on Jack. Both gentlemen rose at my return. Again, their nod at my mind, I was still uncertain about my role and just how to play my part in these interactions, not to mention hesitant to trust the integrity of such arrangements. Drawing close to them, I fumbled at the finish line. Rather than kittenishly inviting the gentlemen to retire to the bedroom with me, I panicked, making a mess of the situation, and offered the impressive Olympian a way out. If he was not interested in pursuing a carnal evening, there was no pressure from me. I reiterated how much I was enjoying our tête-à-tête. Jack deftly came to my bumbling rescue, smoothly negotiating the situation and offering to give the arresting god and me a tick to become familiar with one another. I whispered a word of thanks as he retraced my steps. I turned my nervous attention to the colossus god smiling down at me. It's days later, and I'm still trying to remember how it first commenced. Vulcan was tranquilly standing there, and then there was no space between us. Who initiated? Vulcan? Or my impossible inner goddess? I do know that I was in his arms and on the very tips of my toes to reach him. Vulcan was circumspect, but not timid, his hands gingerly, respectfully on my body while his full sensual lips swept my own. I could feel his breath delicately wisp over my skin. His body, heated from the fires of his prestigious forges, threatened to melt me right then and there. My lips parted in foretaste, my heart skipping before our bodies cemented together, our lips and tongues mutually explored, hands traversing the height and breadth of our bodies. Oh, my god. Vulcan was tall and strapping, and my fingers could make out the outline of perfectly sculpted muscles beneath the crisp cotton. His mouth was sweet, his kisses dripped with earnest musk, and his tongue curiously but unobtrusively acquainted itself with my own. Over and over he kissed me, enchanting my inner goddess and roguishly sealing my breath away. I could feel his raw power masterfully held at bay, his wolf beginning to race as I pressed my live form against the compact rock of his body. Vulcan's interest was steady, but without coercion, greed, or dominance. His glory bulged between our crushed bodies. Vulcan was attentive, yet I sensed he would not press his overwhelming advantage. A light, chuffling noise, followed by a chuckling sound, revived my senses. I blushed, returning my heel to the cool, tiled floor. Jack stood nearby, a puckish smile playing with the corners of his mouth. Now the three of us—four, if you count my giddy inner goddess—maneuvered to the room I had skittishly exited only a little while before. I clambered up and knelt on the bed, waiting, once more unsure how to proceed. I watched in respect as the imperial Vulcan slowly unfastened each button of his starched shirt. My inner goddess drooled as his Herculean chest was leisurely divulged from my leering enjoyment with each unfastening of the button. Because of my own inadequacies, I sat a little straighter, shoulders back, while fitting the teddy into its proper draping down my flushing skin. Retaining his midnight boxers, the Olympian knelt on the bed before me. More delicious kisses followed as his hands explored my mounds and dips. I closed my eyes, losing myself in the experience, allowing my magic to absorb and inspect his own. Vulcan was safe, my body instantly tuning to his core and finding an exceptional light residing there. Having assessed him, I knew I would permit this compelling Vulcan to have his way with me. Nevertheless, the bouldered butterflies in my stomach took flight. What was a god like this doing kissing a girl like me? Like a cold, gaping hole, something was missing. Not exactly wrong, more absent. Where was Jack in all this? I sent my tendrils of magic to scan the room and detected him in the ensuite bathroom, occasionally observing around the wall. Apprehension shaded my mind. I had shared a first kiss with our guest, but now the three of us could partake in our hedonistic evening. Our tether was unreadable to my distracted mind. With a blushing kiss and a chuckle, I rocked back on my heels, separating myself from Vulcan. My eyes traced the contours of his rippling muscles, settling on his bulging boxers. Craving jolted through my body like electricity. It took a second for my flustered inner goddess to compose herself. Neatly, I stepped off the bed, popping my head around the corner. My Jack pretended busyness to give us an extended moment, quietly fiddling with this and that. I glowed at his thoughtfulness. However, it was time he joined us. I ached for his companionship, to feel his nearness and the voyeuristic glee he garnered. Tilting my chin, I kissed him, drawing his comforting ethos into my soul while pushing my love and adoration into him. No more peeking around the corner. No more privacy. I took him by the hand, leading him back to his room to participate in the civilian badness. On my heels, I sat on the bed once more, licensing the towering Vulcan to resume investigating my body as his lips skinned my mouth. The air practically crackled with electric carnality. My inner goddess was nearly levitating with awe under the scrutiny and worship of the two Olympians. One fed his voyeuristic whims, his camera at the ready. The other god had one hand scouting the mound of one breast, while the right hand supported my lower back. My very lower back. I think, Vulcan's deep voice rumbled, his nose brushing my left earlobe. I think I would like you to keep this on for a little while. His long fingers had drifted to my derriere, across my thigh to toy with the hem of my teddy. My inner goddess blinked in astonishment. Some deities, while polite, were reasonably eager to divest me of my garments. Their request took me aback. Predominantly, it made me feel feminine and esteemed. I beamed at the idea of my delicate parts remaining hidden behind the ruby curtain of my gown. The following two hours can barely be registered as accurate. Even in the midst of our evening, I contemplated pinching myself to verify the reality of my circumstances. Like all of my experiences these past eighteen months, this one will forever hold a hallowed place in my memory. With effortless execution, the courtly Vulcan choreographed me through three prestigious positions. He was slow, methodical, and astonishingly gentle. From his expansive greatness that clearly overshadowed my petite form, I had incorrectly assumed the mighty Vulcan would easily overpower and decimate me—in the best of ways, of course. Naturally, I adore being aggressively manhandled. Yet, since Vulcan's arrival, I had been mentally preparing myself for his invasion, especially once Vulcan removed his trim boxers and his beautiful amplitude burst into view. My inner goddess had trembled in delight and apprehension at the sight. What if I could not take his foray into my split curtains? Would I fail him? What would Jack think? These and a hundred more worries sparked in the three-point-two seconds between the elimination of his boxers and the heat and weight settling over my body as the wondrous Vulcan rested his entire body on mine. Instinctually, I spread my knees, legs lifting to grip his hips between my thighs. With deliberate movements, Vulcan idled his great, protected crown at the entrance of my slit and lingered. Not even his royal crested ridge pressed his advantage. His breath was hot against my neck. I could hear my heart racing as I waited, muscles at the ready for the onslaught that never came. As with the kiss, Vulcan came ninety percent and waited for me to come the last ten percent. Anything that happened between us would be my choice, my decision, my preference. I opened my mouth to murmur my concern about accommodating his tremendous monolith, but instead of words, a moan filled the quiet room. While my mind formulated the words, my inner goddess took matters into her own hands. There was no reason to dally with speculation when one could just find out. My heels dug into his ample buttocks, propelling him forward as my hips tilted and she contrived to spear my body down, down, down, every last inch of the poised glory. In that instant, orgasms woke to hum and ripple, my eyes popping from their sockets as my willing cocoon sought to yield to the object of my desire. My body fought to adapt expeditiously and come simultaneously, but with such enviable dimensions it took time to assimilate. Meanwhile, beneath his formidable frame, wave after orgasmic wave appropriated my diminutive frame. Vulcan, for all his might, continued to display remarkable restraint as he waited and allowed me to come, shuddering on his tremendous glory. Had that just happened? Had I failed my release without movement on either of our parts? My inner goddess stood with her mouth agape, her enchanting wings outstretched and fluttering in the silvery evening light. She had no answers. With oil dexterity, Vulcan leisurely withdrew, paused, and glided sedately back in. It was agonizing in its perfection. Instead of orgasms being barbarically forced on me, which I craved, the steady cadence empowered my climax to build by degrees. It was an astounding experience. It was something akin to moving through the colors of a rainbow, each level unique in its shade, but evolving, bit by bit, towards something profound. Even as my orgasms matured and ripened to their fullest splendor, Vulcan employed two approaches. Either he maintained his flawless cadence, neither fast or slow, or he adjourned altogether. And so inordinately replete, it was one of the most splendiferous glories of my life. Vulcan's distinctive strategy permitted the ringed muscles of my cocoon to almost milk his unnerving girth as I came. It was an unorthodox sensation. Paradoxically, every orgasm was deep, dark, and rumbling to my core. The Vulcan repeated the routine when he tenderly placed me to ride him, his hands resting on my ample hips. His thumbs caught the hem of my short gown in the swoop from his thumb leading to his index finger, nimbly hiking the edge so as not to catch or dampen my wanton labor. The tiny part of my lucid mind tacked a mental note to thank him for the sweet deed, though I never did. For all that, it was only our second position. Every nerve was on fire, my throat raw from my screams, while a faint sheen glistened on my skin. I convulsed and spasmed while unearthly groans and shrieks filled the otherwise tranquil sanctuary. My long nails curled reflexively into my palms to spare his mighty chest from injury as my inner goddess demonically possessed my body and moved over him at a manic speed. Light radiated from my right. Jack stood just to the side of the bed, utterly beaming with pride and desire at the hedonistic sight before him. His bulbous glory stood on guard, the moist tip shining in the dim, erotic lighting of his pavilion. My inner goddess made certain to modify my body, to display our best angles, and whenever possible flashed him a wide, sultry smile. Later when my mouth was bursting, the corners of my lips crimped in as they strained to cater to the Vulcan's megalith, I gave Jack an impish twinkle from my eyes, knowing beyond a doubt that the camera in his hands was catching the full extent of my deflowering. The sleek Vulcan advanced me to the third position. Thrown on my back, his robust hands brought my knees together, north to my chest, and then gingerly west to rest on my right side of the slate sheet. With my shoulders and upper back flat on the bed, my spine was partially twisted. After the terrifying proportions of my orgasms, the rotation actually felt good, and for just a space I closed my eyes, easing my sore muscles while Vulcan staged his position. As his protuberant crown paused at my sopping slit, two protests rose to mind. Firstly, this particular position had been attempted with others, and for various reasons, met with limited success. Secondly, should it prove advantageous, my inner gateway shrunk back in consternation at the terrible blighting the Vulcan could deliver in this position, due to his fortunate length and girth. I rested the palm of my hand on the delicious strength of his bicep to explain my thoughts. However, my judicious inner goddess bit my tongue. She was curious to see how this would play out. We could still savor the specific sensations, even if they were not to our full gratification. On the other hand, if the discomfort grew unbearable, I had merely to use my words and divert to a new position. On my inner goddess, I inhaled while concentrating on soothing my tense abdominal muscles. Yet again the illustrious Vulcan confounded me. On his initial entrance, rather than initiating a blitzing tirade, he froze, holding his trapping length statuesque. As before, my body responded to the unstirring, potent glory, writhing in climax, my fingers clinging to the edge of the mattress for dear life. There was no pain, no strafing offensive, as Vulcan vigilantly impelled forward, bearing himself to the hilt within me. Nothing but glorious, shattering release, until I disintegrated into stardust. My soul prodded my inner goddess. It was time to get my love involved. My fingers unclenched from the bedding, and I beckoned him closer. Eagerness dripped from the corner of my lips. The elevation of the bed and the height of Jack's exemplary, straining glory was superbly stationed. My fingers wrapped in a vise hold as I guided his aching granite towards my waiting tongue. The two divinities masterminded my body in perfect harmony, sending me to the peaking culmination of ultimate euphoric bliss with deliberate and measured thrusts, nothing laxadaisical or lethargic, but simply without perturbing agony. Through a velocitating tempo, Jack and Vulcan stimulated and fostered my supreme pleasure as I cried and wailed my delights, but they were far from finished with me. The liberator ramp was subsequently employed, situated sideways on the bed, and my limp form poured down the incline. Vulcan took his turn first, measured intentional plunges. Behind me, his hands on my narrow waist, Vulcan's sapience body flowed with panther-like fluidity. My inner goddess yearned for a wall-length mirror to witness the droid efforts, but beamed, knowing Jack was capturing every second on his device. At that moment, my body detonated on an implausible level. My hands grasped empty air as I struggled to keep my mind, body, and soul tethered to the earth. Perceiving my floundering, Jack set aside his cell and clasped my arms and fists in a fireman hold. Binding my anchor, the orgasm roared through me with the catastrophic potency of a summer hurricane. My elbows wrenched backward, my rhomboid muscles standing out sharply on my back against my pale skin. Jack was unprepared for the omnipotence of my storm, and I physically yanked him forward. Quickly alterating his stand, Jack created a counterbalance, the toes of his left foot curling on the flat-weaved rug surrounding the bed, while the other compensated on the humming floorboards. Still, I roared with a fury that surprised even myself. Vulcan rotated between steady, penetrating thrusts that blessed my inner gate, to remaining motionless as a cruned encouragement. Meanwhile, my cocoon rippled over his rousing glory, allowing my body to experience the fullness of my rapture. Creating an eye at the center of my hurricane, the two gods swapped places. Savvy to my predispositions, Jack positioned himself behind my artificially vaulted hips. I took the opportunity to cup each breast in turn, maneuvering them to a slightly less squished and more forward pose on the liberator's velvety ramp. Jack floated on the bed, hands gripping my shoulders for balance. Jack's sally was a near-vengeful attack. His blinding battery flooded my senses, whipping my cries into frenzied screams and permeating the room with the thunderous sounds of skin striking skin. The contrasting techniques were polar opposite to each other, but I did not mind. The unexpected dissimilarities were precisely what I never knew I needed. Both gods executed my orgasmic delectation, rendering me nigh unconscious as my hands cleaved to Vulcan's in an attempt to preserve my sanity. Intoxicated in my Elysium, words drifted through my consciousness. I was shocked to discover that the gods had once more switched places. Jack was poised next to my head. The question was repeated for my benefit. Was I okay? Would I like something to drink? Water? Tea? Vulcan, still aft of my buttocks, moved with luxurious slowness. Tea? Please? I managed to croak. Silence. Okay. It'll take me a moment to boil some water. Jack's baritone held a ribbon of confusion, but he resolutely strode from the room. Boil water? My limpid mind was puzzled. Realization struck both of us at nearly the same juncture. Before I could call out, Jack had returned to my bedside. Iced tea, he inquired in clarification. One of the green teas from the fridge? My sweet, sweet man was more than willing to accept the elaborate task of preparing a pot of loose-leaf tea, my morning ritual, for my immediate consumption. Joy and adoration filled and overflowed my heart. My hand cupped his striking jawline as I chuckled. Yes. Yes. Yes. I responded. Just the green tea. My parched throat and dry lips were already imagining the cool refreshment about to be mine. Jack's inquiry provided the perfect opportunity for an intermission. I refreshed myself in the ensuite, and with our hydrating beverages, the three of us lounged lazily across the rumpled damp bedding. Our cordial conversation proceeded as if nothing had transpired between our time on the couch and now. Yet this time, both gentlemen took the occasion to run their fingertips atop my exposed, vulnerable skin as I reclined between them. Over time, I grew to believe our interlude was the bell signaling the completion of our time together. My eyelids began blinking slowly, and my head propped on my hand grew heavy. Turning my head into my shoulder, I successfully hid a small yawn from the gods. I think. With a whoosh, Vulcan's following statement brought my inner goddess right back into the conversation. I think. He began, a fingertip trailing the scarlet ribbon imprisoning my right breast. I would like another round, but this time, without your gown on. His melodic voice resonated in every part of my body, raising goosebumps and causing my breath to catch. Behind me, my striking Jack heartily agreed. Oh, gods of Olympus, here we go again! The gods worked in tandem to simultaneously fill my mouth and salacious swollen slit. Unabashed on my back, legs parted and devoid of my garments, I was barely aware of their rotating transitions. My chin tilted to receive each substantial girth as it was presented for my devotion. Flipped onto my hands and knees, I obediently attempted to take each of them in turn down the recesses of my throat, moaning at the richness of each considerable glory, bobbing down the abundant length and swirling my tongue along the raised crest. Her wings spanned on either side of her, and my inner goddess once more declared, with all certainty, that she was created for that moment, and many others like it. She was destined to be worshipped and worshipped. Exulting, she succumbed to the adulation that ruthlessly throttled my apex while pouring her efforts on the auspicious glory penetrating my larynx. Later, Jack divulged he had been distressed on several occasions, uncertain the bed frame was equal to the task of our explosive affair. I ached to continue. I truly, truly did. However, my migraine from the preceding day had returned to faintly pulse in my right temple with an agitating rhythm. While there was no immediate cause for panic, my weakened body warned against further engagement. The monumentous exertion had thrilled my inner goddess. Now she was loath to uncouple. Indulgently, she stamped her foot and pouted at the weakness of my physical form, computing my decision as tapping out. To my inner goddess, it was an unacceptable admission of defeat. Not wanting to disappoint myself, or the gods still moving around and about and in me, I completed a thorough internal scan. I could continue our carnal tryst, but at grave risk to the rest of my weakened commitments. Feeling internally, I dared not jeopardize my long-established plans. I was on my back, Jack resolutely claiming my inner jewel as I released Vulcan's glorious obelisk from my lips. Nonetheless, I could not stay the tears pricking my eyes as I divulged the situation to Jack. Gazing down at me, concern instantly swept through his eyes as they poured searchingly into mine. His fingertips moved to my temple and tenderly stayed there. I assured him I was fine. I was having a magnificent time, and my inner goddess hoped the intrepid Vulcan would be interested in a future dalliance. Despite everything, sleep was desperately required to keep the malignant tent-stake from being driven into my temple once more. Instantly and unquestioningly, Vulcan withdrew and refreshed himself in the en-suite. I buried my head in Jack's shoulder, embarrassed. I hated calling it quits after two hours. Jack would hear none of it. With courtly grace and winning smiles, the gentleman dressed unhurriedly. I sighed and followed suit. At the door, Vulcan gifted me with an all-encompassing bear hug that made my heart melt just a little. Vulcan shook Jack's hand with masculine firmness before graciously bidding us farewell. My stalwart Jack hung back, but I followed the Olympian to the door, intending to secure the lock behind his departing figure. Before I could do so, a shimmering beam caught my eye. The silvery-moon goddess sat in her heavens, surrounded by her flickering court. She had been a libertine spectator to our entire passionate evening. With an improving but mischievous twinkle, the ethereal queen winked at me. Until next time, XO, Elsie