part 5

hrough ancient groves of hallowed oaks, they travelled on to Tessariok,
Where lived the the reclusive, elven folk.
Thanking them for their gallant, crucial aid in the battle of Dark Angle,
He gave them ancient elven baubles, from the dead orcs he'd wrangled.
Not much in golden value, but their worth was in ancient memories true.
For a day, the stayed in this lovely, sylvan way.
The elves in their great festing hall, told tales, and had a heady, merry ball!
Telling tales, true and tall, playing pranks without rancour or gall,
They made their friends welcome, one and all.
In the morning, they said farewell, and left by the mage's mystic fashion,
And arrived at his towering, fortified mansion.
A sparkling river to the left, cut through the valley's cleft,
And the garden of floral beauty was not bereft.
Some friends and tending servants, welcomed their friend and lord,
With much cheers and brandished sword.
To them he introduced his fair Chandra, now the mistress of Killochan Castle!
For joy in battle winning, and geater still, lover bringing,
He ordered a mighty banquet, inviting all from town, village and market,
While bards did play, and apprentice wizards magic sights display,
Their liege lord and his lady, while with friends did bandy,
Supped each other's lips, and heady presence, like fine ancient brandy.
At last the revels ended, and on their merry ways folk wended,
And apart the lovers were by custom bedded.
Though on the door the door was a mighty lock,
She, after some waiting, unfastened the dock, waiting for the mage's knock.
The hours crept on, but into the land of dreams she won.
She stirred, awakened by the call of a night bird.
And he was here! But of this man she had no fear,

In his eyes was tenderness looked, as he'd watched his slumbering dear.
Pulling back silken sheets, to him she beckoned, reached.
While love was still in their eyes, into them also passion crepted.
And then, magic he began to cast, a strange blue brilliance grew around him grew fast!
And then at last, it reached from him to her, and it had power vast.
Touching first her flawless face, delicately, gentlyhile, each can feel the other in all entire.
This strange embrace she knew was not just power,
But part of her lover's very soul, she opened to it like to the Sun a morning flower.
Heartbeats racing, the two enraptured by this mystic lovemaking.
Her nightdress, slowly removing as the tingling caress,
To her breasts was moving, and then like a kiss from artic lips,
Came a touch on their carmine tips. She jolted, and from the bed almost bolted,
And as the billiance stroked her breathless chest, gone was all of her dress.
Flesh rippled and move as power and passion ebbed and flowed.
And all the while, she could feel her lover's lips upon her face,
Though he stood across the room, rigid as the haft of a mace,

Apart from soft cries of emtion, that joined hers, like surf from the ocean.
That wonderous, seductive motion, dipped to her belly,
And in the hollow of her button, it felt like an electric tongue fed on her like a glutton.
With tembling hips and empassioned cries, in love's release she almost sublimely dies.
She feels wrapped in her sweet's dear arms, he tender and sharing without qualm.
But he is far from calm, sweat pours from his face, and she can see,
His covered, pulsing manhood is eager for her female embrace.
The dance of magic love continues, and the power covers her further,
Like some arousing, unseen , massaging many hands of gentle ghostly retinues.
Without shame, she looks at him, and parts her marble thighs,
Daring him her femininity to claim.
His eyes sparkle at her proud display, and low the warming touch begins to play.
Marvelling at her enrapturing power, rosebud lips part on her moistening, woman's flower,
And that touch and inflaming scent makes him groan in passion's agonies unspent.
And that touch on her desire's very bud makes her groan in passion's agonies unspent.
He can feel her, she can feel him, as something gently enters.
She is not shy, she pushes up to meet it at first try.
The extention of his finger, upwards, pressing towards her belly, gently presses, lingers.
All the while, each can feel the other in all entire.
Eagerly, joyfully, she cries her woman's enraptured, wracking, wonderous completion.
But it does not end, for like the dawning of creation, it crashes on and from her,
Again and again, until it's an ecstasy greater than pain.
As she recovers, she sees the effect this has on her lover.
His manhood released from it's covers, she smiles as on the ecstasy brink he hovers.
With mystic powers of her own, she caresses his rigid flesh but once.
He stares into her soul, his body burning like coal, and then he fountains love's toll,
Crying her name.
Minutes pass, perhaps hours. He goes to her, they gently hold, cuddle, kiss caress.
"Tomorrow, my love, tomorrow!" He promises, she knows he is leaving,
But she is not grieving, for now, never is he truly leaving, and their love's growing, weaving....

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Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Silverblade