Issue #36- A Shattered Clasp

A Shattered Clasp


*~~~~*

Erick draws back enough to watch the expression on her face wanting to be the first man to witness her first orgasm. Each stroke of his fingers sends more sparks from her until the tack room is alive with crackling green electricity. Thin jagged snakes of mystical amperage dance from her fingertips and her emerald eyes as she rides the torrent he invokes with each pass of a finger pad.

“Let it come,” he tells her softly as his body surges with each crest of Dominatria`s approaching climax. Her neatly manicured nails rip open the seams of his shirt; her auburn head drops back to touch the tack room wall. Erick winces outwardly as another jarring jolt courses through him.

The pain should make him leave the enchantress but it only intensifies the experience for him. Mikel wasn`t the only Rayvenwing male to have dark predilections in matters carnal.

When the building tidal wave does crash down over her his knees collapse under him and he roars out in pain yet he keeps her close as they tumble to the packed dirt floor. The electricity that shoots from the girl nearly stops his heart; sparks explode outward from both of them as he clasps her tightly.

Erick`s spine arcs to the point of snapping while who KNEW how many volts travelled along his synapses. His body spews out his release as they both convulse in a wanton cocktail of sexual exaltation and white hot misery.

Twitching uncontrollably Erick rolls off the shuddering Darkvale debutante with a rough grunt as he hits the dirt floor, his diamond studs glowing viridian with her residual power.

“My Lord?”

“Give…..me….shit!” he tries to speak but another ball-emptying spasm rockets from his toes to his Mohawked head, leaving him puttylike with a very nasty mess in his breeches. The minx has the temerity to giggle before her lips skim over his tightly drawn ones. She sits up slowly beside him running her hands over her hair to try to flatten down the disarray it was in.

“I`m sorry about your premature, uhm, explosion,” she says as she rises to her petite slippers and brushes chaff from her nightgown,” Will I see you tomorrow night at the ceremony my Lord Rayvenwing?”

Her sudden return to the well-mannered and vestal innocent stuns him nearly as much as the jolting shot his nervous system just received. He nods mutely since his brain was apparently still seizing. Her smile down at him is sweet demure sophistication.

“Excellent! I shall save a dance for you on my card. Good eve Lord Rayvenwing!” she curtsies perfectly then disappears in a shimmering flash.


Erick continues to lay sprawled out on the tack room floor wondering exactly what just transpired and how he could experience it again when he hears a tap, tap tapping at the tack room door.