The Alcove
(1999) by Virago Blue


It was necessary for me, Virago Blue, to seek respite
from the passion-fest.  I needed a quiet moment to
refuel.  I was fascinated with this glorious castle. 
Once inside I was determined to take a private tour.  I
loved exploring secretive nooks and crannies,
especially one as massive as Lord Malinov's. First
things first, I must not be rude to my host.  

After appropriate introductions,  I grabbed a bottle of
wine, carefully refilling my goblet (my hands were
still trembling from my encounter with Master
Pendragon), and continued on my way.  

My feet were bare, enabling me to pad unnoticed by a
few involved guests.  I made my way deeper into the
recesses of the castle.  How glorious, I thought.  Such
a beautiful setting for a party.  I chose to wear a
powder blue negligee this day, the diaphanous fabric
setting off my pale nipples and unruly patch of dark
gold between my legs.  The neckline dipped dangerously
low, exposing a tiny sliver of flushed areola to the
naked eye on occasion. Dainty silver chains adorned
my neck and ankles, tinkling daintily as I sashayed
down the corridors.  My hair fell in riotous ringlets
to the middle of my back and I was constantly pushing
the unruly mass behind my shoulders.  I felt like a
fairy among the magic of this castle.  

I continued with my exploration, stopping here and
there to admire a sculpture or a peculiar painting. 
Doors did not form a barrier to me, as nothing seemed
to be locked.  My eyes fell upon many entangled limbs
and more, and was often met with "join us?"  With a
polite shake of the head and my goblet lifted in a
toast, I moved farther down the hallways and grandiose
rooms.  

Eventually the elegance of the architecture began to
wear on me.  An alcove nearby promised solitude and
rest while I finished my wine.  While small, the alcove
must have served some sort of purpose.  A candle
shimmered in a gilded sconce on the wall, illuminating
a magnificent painting of an incredibly handsome
nobleman.  I lowered myself to the bench opposite the
painting and leaned against the cool stone wall, my
gaze never leaving the face of the man.  I studied this
painting more than any other I have ever come across. 
It had a quality about it that I could not explain.  I
was intrigued, to say the least, but that's not all.  I
was aroused.  Perhaps it was the atmosphere of the
party.  No, it was this man.  

There was no nameplate indicating the subject of the
painting.  I formed a fantasy of my own.  So far away
from the others in the castle, and truth be told, very
uninhibited after all the wine, I began to converse
with the painting as if he were there in front of me,
teasing me into conversation.

"Why, milord, I do hope I'm not intruding.  I find the
company of a handsome nobleman to be very inviting
right now.  No, what am I saying?  What I mean is, I'm
a little lonely.  Yes.  That's it.  Lonely.  You see,
most of the guests are tied up or otherwise engaged in
various activities and I find myself wanting to
be--private.  I know that may seem odd, coming from a
tart like me, but it is the truth.  What's that you
say?  My dress?  Ah, it is rather lovely, isn't it? 
Thank you, milord.  Slide it off one shoulder so that
you may admire my lovely breast?  Why of course,
milord."  I slipped one side of the dress from my
shoulder, fully exposing one beautiful globe of soft
flesh topped with a pouting pink nipple.  The
temptation to slip the other sleeve off my arm was
great.  I soon found myself sitting on the bench,
powder blue gown pooled at my bare feet, the only thing
touching my feverish flesh were two thin silver chains. 


I gazed at the lifelike painting of the nobleman,
admiring his piercing grey eyes, full lips and neat
goatee.  His black hair shone from an unseen light.  I
imagined he was still standing before me, devouring my
wanton nakedness with his eyes.  I sipped at my wine,
eyes locked with his silver stare, and purposely
dripped the cool liquid on my breast.  I leaned back
and allowed the splash of wine to slide between my
breasts, over my bare belly and pool in my navel.  A
few drops overflowed my navel and became lost in the
tangle of dark blonde between my legs.  "Oh!"  I
exclaimed, covering my mouth with a dainty hand, a brow
arched flirtatiously.  The tip of my index finger
followed the path the wine took, however, a little
slower.  My legs soon parted only slightly.  An errant
wave of blonde hair fell across my eyes from a passing
breeze.  I felt the breeze between my legs and felt it
ruffle my hair again.  The candle flickered, sputtered
and then went out, leaving me to stare at the painting
in near darkness.  The only light was from the
cavernous hallways.  

The breath caught in my throat as I witnessed the
painting change--I swear it!  My anxiety turned to
arousal when I felt the gentle caress of a hand on my
thigh, traveling up to capture a tremulous breast.  My
eyes snapped open wider as I felt a mouth attach to my
sensitive nipple, sucking greedily.  I could not help
but moan, the sensation was so delicious.  My legs were
gently pushed open.  Well, in truth, they did not need
to be pushed since I willingly opened my thighs to
what unseen pleasure would be next.  

It was then I saw it, the flash of shiny black hair,
waved and luxurious as it bent between my legs.  In the
darkness the sensations of touch and smell seem to
increase two-fold.  I felt his tongue dip hungrily into
my wet sex, lapping and sucking with abandon.  His
attentions stirred the fragrance of sex in the air. 
Yes, I knew it was a man.  I felt the course scrub of a
beard brushing the delicate skin inside my thighs.  I
arched my back, offering myself to him fully.  I felt
two hands grip my buttocks, locking me into his mouth. 
I didn't fight.  Soon, my hips began to rock and
buck as his tongue flicked over my begging clitoris,
nipping carefully at my tender labia before
burying his face once more into me.  I couldn't stand
it any longer.  I cried out with the overwhelming
orgasm, my hips pulsing involuntarily, my groans
echoing through the halls.  

Too quickly it was over.  I wanted to meet my secret
lover and dutifully thank him for his attentions. 
Alas, his head was no longer between my legs, his hands
had left my rear.  The air was still and I knew in that
instance he was gone.  

I gathered my gown from the floor.  I brought it to my
face, hoping to catch the scent of this mystery man. 
Nothing.  My breasts showed signs of abrasion only the
whiskers of a man's face could make.  The flesh inside
my legs were marked as well.  I walked on wobbly legs
from the alcove, sated from my meanderings and ready to
join in the festivities.