Angela Knight - Over The Moon

Amber's splayed hand smoothed even lower down my belly, sliding into my triangle of hair. A thick, callused finger pushed slowly inside me with testing roughness and I bucked back against him, squeezing that coarse finger with delicate, clinging inner muscles. At the same time, unconsciously, I squeezed what I held in my hand. Beldar groaned long and hard into my mouth, and he bucked forward, pushing himself within my tight grasp.

He tore his mouth from mine, pressed his heated face against me, and panted in my ear. "Oh, Goddess. Oh, Goddess. Yes, yes, more."

And then I couldn't hear anything. Could only feel as Amber pulled his finger out and began pushing his much bigger, much wider penis into me.

I wasn't stretched enough, wasn't wet enough. I was moist but not soaking wet. I was dry enough, tight enough, to feel every pushing, stabbing, stretching inch of his pulsating hardness moving into me, invading me. And it was wonderful, wonderful with that touch of discomfort. I could feel him even more, even sharper, with that edge of pain mixing with the incredible pleasure.

Light began to shimmer my skin, turning me into a luminous glowing thing, leaving Amber with no doubt as to what I felt. We only glowed in pleasure. And it was pleasure that inundated me, a painful pleasure.

I turned my face into Beldar's. "Shine," I whispered against his full, tender lips, "Shine for me," and lapped across the parted seam of his mouth. With my hands, both of them now, I pumped Beldar's hard velvety shaft in my closed fists in time to Amber's stretching, insistent push-and-slide entry into me.

I pulled—up and up. One long slow squeezing pull, almost terribly tight—and Beldar rewarded me with another groan, with the shimmer of his own pleasure lighting him from within.

As Amber pulled out of me, his fat mushroom head bumping and gliding along my responsive inner tissues, making me catch my breath, I started with my other hand at Beldar's base, pulling slowly, tightly, up his root as my other thumb swirled over his weeping crown, rubbing over his sensitive tip, anointing him with his own essence.

I lifted my thumb and brought it to my mouth, my tongue flicking out to taste him as Beldar watched with harsh breath and glittering eyes. I savored his essence, swirled it along my tongue and opened my mouth to his, sharing his own taste with him. Grating a rough oath against my lips, he plunged his tongue into me. Pushing, retreating. Sliding in, sliding out. Again and again in a heavy surging rhythm, fucking my mouth as I tightened my lips around him and sucked his tongue, my cheeks hollowed out, my mouth a receptive oral sheath for his thrusting aggression. He murmured, muttered, made wild sounds against my lips. And then he was tearing sounds from me as his fingers clasped my nipples, tugging and squeezing them, rolling them between tight thumb and forefinger in rhythm to his thrusting tongue and his sliding, hot-frictioned movement in the sheath of my hands.

The sensation of Beldar's hands, lips, tongue, and fingers, his pulsating hardness in my hands, and Amber's thickness pushing, pulling in me… It all built and built in a powerful spiraling tension within me, winding me tighter and tighter. The room glowed brilliantly with our incandescence, with our bright light as I twisted and climbed and stumbled to the very top of the cliff, teetering there for a long precarious moment, heat filling me up, swelling, brimming. And then spilling over.

I reached blindly down with one hand as I felt my contractions begin and found Beldar's tightly scrunched balls. One squeeze and I spilled him over, too. He pulsed and jerked in my hands, and wet fluid splashed onto my stomach and chest, so hot. And then I was taken over by my own release. But even then… even then I did not forget. My hand released his pulsing length and found his wet oozing side. And the reason for all this, the purpose, was foremost in my mind amidst our tumultuous release.

Heal —I thought, I willed, even as I shuddered and trembled. Please heal ! And crying, convulsing, I spilled the hot energy of my climax and of Amber's jetting release into that wounded, blemished spot, channeling everything pouring out from us there, with strength and with prayer.

Please, Mother Moon. Please help me help him. Save us. Save my people. I can't — won't !— give any of them up .

My light peaked and began fading back into me, and I felt Amber's incandescence mute and dim. But the room still glowed. Beldar still glowed.

I removed my hand, pulled back from Beldar so I could see. And wanted to cry in anguish. To say no !

The torn flesh had healed. But his skin still had that dark stain, that malevolent blackness against the pure white of the rest of him. But the darkness was different somehow. He gleamed from within like a shiny unearthly thing. Radiance burst from him with almost harsh brilliance, lighting even that dark rotted core of him so that it gleamed and sparkled like black diamonds caught beneath the sun. But it wasn't the sun that shone. It was the moon—our life source, our energy. The essence of who we were.

Amber shifted, pulled out of me, and lifted up on an elbow to gaze uncertainly down at Beldar. "What's happening?" he asked.

"I don't know," I whispered, as befuddled and caught up in the wonder of what I was seeing as much as he.

Beldar looked down at himself. But as the light started to change, to grow even brighter, fiercer, his expression of awe gave way to one of frightened panic. His eyes rounded and he threw back his head, screaming in hoarse pain. His body thrashed and rolled in agony.

"What's wrong?" I asked and grabbed his hands, pinning him down so he wouldn't hurt himself as he tossed and turned.

"Hurts," he cried. "Dear Goddess, it hurts. Worse than before. Ahhh !" He bucked suddenly, his body arching up off the ground, almost lifting me with him, as a violent spasm gripped him. His feet pedaled frantically against the floor, moving him clockwise around me, as if he could desperately outrun the pain that way.

"What's the matter?" Amber asked, grabbing Beldar's ankles, anchoring him still. But the moment Amber touched him, he knew. As I had known with that first contact.

"He's warm. Almost hot," Amber said softly, and his eyes, when he lifted them to me, were frightened.

By nature, Monère were cold-blooded creatures, their skins cool, their heartbeats slow. Night was their domain and they slept during the day when the hot sun ruled the sky. As a Mixed Blood, I was different. I could walk the days as well as the nights. I could withstand the sun, the heat, as well as the cool darkness. But Full Bloods could not.

I didn't know if what was happening was because of me. I didn't heal this way. My curative process was quick and clean. They were usually miraculously whole right after I channeled energy into them. It had never been like this before, a prolonged, protracted, intensifying process. Nor had anyone continued to glow for so long after I had stopped. Was the human part of my energy flow somehow making him warm? Or was it part of the corruption itself? Most importantly, how long could Beldar's body tolerate the increased temperature?

He writhed and tossed on the ground in pitiful distress and we could only anchor him by wrists and ankles while he burned. And burned was the word for it. The black light glowing through his chest and abdomen became almost unbearably brilliant and warm. Black shards of light glittered and gleamed through the front of him like the sun pulsing through a dark prism. But as he tossed and moaned, begged and cried in tearful writhing agony, the blackness seemed to grow lighter. He sparkled brilliantly, a harsh black-and-white thing.

Slowly, so slowly that I wasn't sure if I was seeing the truth of what was, or of what I wished it to be… slowly that emitting light gained ascendance over the darkness, overpowering it, shining through it… burning it away. The dark edges shrunk, slowly eaten away by the pure cleansing white light.