Mystical Journeys

By Ambrosia Vynne

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the authorís imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

copyright 2002 Ambrosia Vynne

Her beauty stemmed like a rose.  Her hair having the essence of a garden in spring.  And her eyes glowed with the truth of love...  She stood, breathtakingly on the crest looking up at the full moon.  Her hands were spread high above her head.  Her slender body was covered with a thin piece of white fabric...  It looked...  like a ceremonial gown.  She was praying to the moon for guidance and enlightenment.  Marc's eyes started to hurt and lowered the binoculars from his eyes.  He rubbed the strain from his lids, and looked once again at the crest.  She was still there in all her mysterious beauty, baying at the unyielding moon.

Marc took down a few notes, his handwriting showing up on the white pad upon his knee.  He had seen others of the same sect doing the same thing on different nights.  But this women...  was beautiful.  She did not look like an old crow with white hair.  Watching her was an enjoyment.  Actually, watching the wind blow against the thin fabric of the gown and seeing the naked form that laid underneath was turning him on.  He actually found himself unzipping his pants.  He kept reminding himself that he was on assignment.  He was suppose to watch and record, that was all.  No interference.  The university surely would never know that he not only watched and recorded, but also masturbated.  After all, a man must do what a man must do...  and right that moment, Marc needed to play with his magic snake.  

Like others of his gender, he had named his penis.  Actually, it was on one of his other adventures for the University that his penis was named.  He was asked to watch and record a small tribe of unknown Indians in the deep jungles of Africa.  He was in a tree, shielded by large green leaves (or so he thought) as he observed females of the tribe washing each other.  He was amazed that their washing was similar to an erotic dance.  Each taking their turn of washing each other's clit and tits.  He had taken numerous pictures and found himself getting aroused.  

He was unaware that one of the young women saw his large white penis between the green leaves.  She started screaming in her own language what equated in English to "magic snake".  She saw my "snake" grow large and spurt a volcano of whiteness high in the air.  It had, in reality, taken Marc only a few moments from seeing the first of the women washing each other, to pulling his penis out, to actually cumming.  

It was a quick erotic journey.   All the women wanted to touch the "magic snake" which just caused it to get hard again.  And once hard, it only took a few more moments for the "snake" to erupt with its spray of hot whiteness.  The women caught some in their mouths.  Marc decided that was the time to leave.  If the University ever found out that he had actually touched and was touched by members of the tribe, they would in deed have his skin.

Marc just couldn't resist taking his "snake" out once again, and playing with it as he watch the women in white.  He kept telling himself, the University would never know...  

She must have seen him or heard him or something...  Because she drop her hands and looked in his direction.  She must have sensed that she had an audience.  She looked straight at him and started to gyrate her hips.  She slowly pulled the ceremony gown up exposing two tanned shapely legs.  She was pulling it farther up on her hips, exposing a thick blonde bush that had natural red highlights.  The air caught in his throat, he just couldn't move.  His "snake" yearned for her attention...  to slide itself inside her bush, becoming just for an instant part of her...  joining with her in her world...  

She walked down from the crest and closed in on her prey.  He climbed out of his perch and greeted her.  She placed a finger on his mouth, not allowing him to speak.  He simply wanted to say his name.  Again, she silenced him in her usual fashion.  She slipped the gown off her shoulders, and in one fall swoop exposed tanned shoulders, firm breasts and an elegant erotic play vessel.  

He drew in quick breaths trying to calm his beating heart and his beating penis.  It stood upright, bolstering its shoulders back showing that it was at attention.  She must have taken his penis' statue as a compliment, since she reached out and gave it a loving pat.  She stroked its head and encouraged it to take a short swim between her firm hot legs.  The wetness overcame his shyness.  He pulled her close and explored her mouth with his tongue.  He was amazed by how tasty her mouth was.  She pulled away from him and motioned him to follow her...  She climbed back on the crest and laid her young body under the full moon.  The moon shown like a spot light, encouraging him to take her.

He needed no further encouragement and he laid his strong body on her soft form.  He nestled against her firm breast and breathed deeply in her scented hair.  Spring paradise....  her smell took him to a time when he was a child, playing in the flower fields with his mother.  He use to enjoy watching his mother run and play in the flower fields, her summer dress occasionally flying up, exposing the mysterious land his father so much enjoyed.  

The women underneath him moaned with pleasure.  He had inserted his true master deep inside and was enjoying her hot tight wetness.  He remembered cumming and then becoming so very tired.  He floated off into the land of erotic pleasure...  closing his eyes, enjoying the last sensual taste of her essence.

He woke with a start.  The beautiful women was gone.  All that remained was the ceremonial robe that had been her dress for the night.  He roamed the village asking for her...  giving her description to all the shop keepers.  He was intoxicated and wanted more...  more of what he had experienced that night.  But there was no more...  The town shook their heads, stating that there was never such a women... only legends.  The legends spoke of such a women, finding a man and making love to him, under the fullness of the witches moon.  The other sect members chuckled but spoke no more...  They all seemed to know a secret, but wouldn't tell...

He turned in his report, and addressed his superiors.  He needed time off to think...  and to dream...  His dreams were filled with her shoulders, her touch and her smell.  He would wake up, believing she had returned only to find he was alone in his cold bed.  The dreams seemed so real...  so tangible...  He yearned to have her again...  Then it happened, months after their erotic encounter.  She came to him with a promise...  a promise of an erotic future together.  He needed no encouragement...  nothing but her dreamy word...  The gun was something he never thought he would use, and definitely not on himself.  It slid in his mouth, smooth like her tongue...  his finger pulled the trigger and his mind went to her...

He left a note...  brief and incoherent...  It spoke of a promise...  a witches promise...  to roam the earth with her...  the women who tamed his snake!