Creatures of The Drifting Moon and Deepening Night

A few years ago as the workmen were building us a new deck my thoughts kept returning to the same theme . . . In

Then one night around 11 p.m. it all came together in just the right way. There was a full moon, it was a warm night, and, not having anything planned for the next day, we decided to stay awake and watch the dawn.  As it turned out, though, Mrs. Smitten had been thinking a lot about our new deck also.what ways could I make love to my lovely Mrs. Smitten on our new deck? I could think of nothing else. It became such an obsession for me that when the deck was finished I felt like it was too wonderful and erotic of a place to just jump into. I waited for the right time while I envisioned scenarios: It might be under a warm sun that exposes in every detail the woman that I had married so long ago, or Mrs. Smitten’s naked female form bathed in soft blue moonlight that titillated the senses, or the mystery of discovering her scent and softness in total darkness.

We were standing on the deck admiring the full moon, the quietness of the middle of the night, and enjoying the smell of lilacs blooming. I walked up behind her, wrapped my arms around her, and cupped her breasts in my hands, gently rolling them around as she moaned softly.

“The man in the moon has romance in his eyes . . . and a lusty smile,” I whispered into her hair.

“His expression does look different tonight,” she said. “Something like erotic anticipation. I think he senses the love that we share and our insatiable desire for each other.”

“And it makes him happy to look down and see people that have been in love since their youth,” I said.

“Why don’t you go to the store and get us a bottle of wine to celebrate dawn, and I’ll dress for the occasion,” she said.

“To celebrate our love?” I asked.

She turned and faced me, our breaths mingling, and wrapped her long brown hair around my face, veiling us in the private moment that we shared. “To celebrate our oneness,” she whispered between my lips.

I departed and drove to the store in somewhat of a daze . . . and when I returned I approached the steps to the deck and found my wife standing on the deck in a beautiful black miniskirt enchantress’ costume, a broom between her spider web stocking legs that she erotically rode upward and then downward, while holding up a silver wand with a pink light glowing in the bulbous end. The moonlight shimmering through the thickening air of the deepening night reflected off of various stones in her dress and her long hair, wafting and cascading around her cheeks, took on the color and shape and flow of  powder-blue waterfalls.

I slowly climbed the steps to the top of the deck, lowered the bottle of wine on the deck railing, and stood gazing at her. She was seductively beautiful in a way that I had never seen before. A feminine glowing, curvaceous creature of the night, she was a package that I had never in my wildest imaginations thought about unwrapping. I was awestruck.

“Dress for the occasion?” I asked.

She dreamily gazed at me. “I have come from the deepening night and the drifting moon to cast a creature of the night ‘spell’ on you.”

I was mystified to silence, taking in her every nuance.

She seductively worked the straps of her dress around her shoulders, as I watched with curious anticipation. Her dress slowly lowered and her luscious round breasts bounced into plain sight. Her nipples were dark, protruding, and the ends were thick, supple, and dripping sweet nectar.

“Wowwww!” I whispered.

She lowered her wand and lightly tapped her right breast three times. . . and then the left one, as her milk began to spray silver streams in the moonlight. Then she raised the wand and tapped me on the right cheek three times and then the left one, and finally a long stroke on my lips.

“I have ‘love potion’ for you,” she said.” Taste me, drink of me, and you’ll be my howling, sex crazed, creature of the drifting moon and the deepening night.”

“Oh, how I want to be,” I said, feeling flushed and breathing hard.

She lowered her wand to the solid plastic picnic table. “Then sit here and close your eyes.”

Mesmerized by this exotically feminine creature, I whole heartedly complied.

I heard the wand land on the deck as she moved closer. I smelled the sweet aroma emanating from her milky breasts. Then her warm milk sprayed my lips and, as if something from deep inside me awakened and overwhelmed me, I found myself rooting for a nipple, heard myself grunting, begging. Her arms rested on my shoulders, one hand on the back of my neck, as she guided my mouth to a softness — unmatched by anything on earth, sea, or sky — that evoked an irresistible urge to suckle and an indescribable feeling of comfort, safety, and contentedness. I hungrily latched on. Ohhh, it’s gushing warmth tasted sooo good, silky, creamy sweet.  My mouth filled until her milk dripped from the corners and then I swallowed and got a burst of exquisite  taste. Then I lightly munched from back to front, bringing all of her goodness and love into me and cooed contentedly as she moaned softly with each tug.

Then I felt it coming . . . an otherworldly feeling, as time seemed to expand, and then stand still. I drifted into a “deep trance”.

Sometime later I awakened from my suckling “trance” and realized that she had removed all of her clothes. I unlatched, backed away just far enough to view all of her, and there she was . . .  standing naked in the moonlight in all of her womanly glory. It was a fantasy view turned real life. Her bountiful breasts, hourglass shape, and that triangle of fur shrouding her pussy, causing the imagination to run wild, was the ultimate feast of the eyes.

I smiled wantonly.

She smiled elegantly, as if presenting herself as a well prepared eloquent dish.

Her “potion” of milk circulating in my veins, I felt my dick rising, struggling to get free of my pants as I watched her pick up the wand and press the end into the entrance of her pussy. Then she raised it to my lips and I closed my eyes and licked the sweet taste into my mouth, swirling it around with my tongue, luxuriating in her female essence.

She lowered the wand from my lips to my dick and stroked up its shaft. “A ‘potion’ for you and a ‘spell’ for big boy,” she said, and firmly but lovingly began removing my shoes, my trousers, my shirt, and when she removed my underwear my dick bounced out free, throbbing and jerking.

“Oh my,” she said. “Look what the creature of  the night has brought to me: A thick long shaft and a mushroom head.”

She kissed down the side of  my shaft and up the other side, “Ohhh,” I groaned. ”

“Ummm,” she replied. And then she took me in her mouth and sucked for a long moment, as the creature of the night and moon in me started wakening and I  began bucking and thrusting out of control.

She unlatched from my dick. “No-no- no,” she said in a little girl tone, and then pushed me down on my back, climbed the picnic table, and straddled me, grasping and working my dick up and down her slit. The view of her over me, her breasts freely hanging above my face, her nipples full and protruding, and her hair wafting across my chest caused me to buck again, my dick probing, throbbing for her to let it sink into her depths . . . and then I was there. Her pussy clamped on my shaft and she raised up, relaxed and sat down, clamped, raised, relaxed and sat, driving me deeper with each cycle, driving me crazy with the urge to fill her pussy with my gushing squirts of love juice.

Suddenly she moaned, tightened her grasp on my dick, and quickened her ups and downs. It was as if her depths were milking my cock to release. Faster and faster she rode me as I felt her orgasm spasm around my dick, sending me into a jerking squirting release that caused her to quake and tremble and let out one muffled shriek and several releasing grunts.

I gasped in a deep breath: “Ohhh!” I sighed joyfully, fully experiencing the warm afterglow,and then looked into her eyes and pulled her downward until her breasts pressed on my chest. How could anything be this deep, intimate, bonding, and joyful? I thought. How much God cares for mankind to give us this experience of joining bodies and minds. How he added on the extra gift of afterglow that we can take with us throughout our day. I could only be thankful.

Still inside of her, she began clamping and releasing, clamping and releasing. Without a word being spoken she was asking me for more as my dick began to swell and throb to her cycles. She had cast her spell on me and now she was demanding its fullest effects. She would have nothing less!

The ‘creature of the night’ inside of me was awakening, my breathing quickened, my heart raced, and I trembled to the anticipation of what I might become.

“Let me up!” I growled, and squirmed out from under her, firmly turned her over on her back, pulled on her legs until her buttocks were on the edge of the table and her pussy available for the taking. “You cast a ‘spell’ on me,” I said, “and now you’ll get your crazed sex creature of the night.” I fell on top of her, ravished her tits with kisses all around as she moaned joyfully. I squeezed her nipples and sprayed my face with her milk and wallowed against her wet breasts, kissing down her belly and back up to her breasts again. Then I forcefully kissed up her neck, stopping to suck for a long moment. Then I began biting her on the chin, up one jaw and down the other, as I growled in pleasure and she shrieked, “Yes! Oh, yes, yes, yes!”

“Take me, you creature of the night and moon,” she said, demanding, wantonly. “Ravage me!  Squeeze me, jerk me, roll me around, and thrust your big powerful creature of the night dick inside me with all of your might. Then pump me full of your animal juice and howl at the approving moon.”

Now I was no longer the man called Smitten . . . She had cast her “spell” and she demanded nothing less. Everything about me seemed stronger, more vigorous, reckless. I raised up and lowered my gaze at my dick: It was swollen harder, thicker, and longer than I had ever seen it. Then I gazed at her pussy: it was rhythmically contracting, demanding that I give it what it wanted, needed.

I forcefully took hold of her legs and raised them on my shoulders. “Whoooooo-ahhhh!” I howled, gazing at the moon and feeling the moment deep in my bones. Then I gazed at my writhing companion creature for a long moment, filling my nostrils with her sex scent, and then buried my dick in her depths, thrusting hard, fast, to one side and then the other as groaning growls erupted from me. I felt her convulsing, clawing at the table at first and then clawing at my chest as she panted out, “Oh, oh, ohhhhh” through her orgasm.

“Whoooo-ahhh” I howled again, feeling the creature in me strengthening, and released her legs, pulled my dick out of her, turned her on her side while holding one leg up. I buried my face in her pussy, lapping in and swallowing her juices for a long moment, as she thrust and contracted on my tongue. Then I penetrated her again and began wildly pumping her as I held on to a breast, panting with my tongue out, bouncing her above the table until her whole body quaked and her pussy spasmed again.

“Whooo-ahhh!” I howled a third time and turned her on her belly, tightly grasping her hips and pumping her doggy style, arching my back, pumping and grunting and growling like the animal of the night that she had made me, until we both convulsed in an orgasm of orgasms, groaning, shrieking, trembling to the smoothing waves of ecstasy, and finally relaxing in the most wonderful afterglow we had ever had.

About that staying up until dawn: being an older couple and fully satiated, we washed up and went to bed, not partaking of the wine or seeing the dawn. But we awakened after the sunrise, glowing with love in our hearts and joyful over the experience that we had on our new deck. When guests are over and sitting around on the deck, Mrs. Smitten and I lock eyes and smile.