Solstice Castle - Chapter 8

Chapter 8

My eyes made contact with those of Jenfeer, the stunning, high-breasted young woman with the long, blond braid who had introduced me to the smoking of the ritual aphrodisiac herbs. The fair creature was now seated at the edge of the pool, still clad only in the string of thin chains that cascaded across her hips. Her long legs were stretched in front of her to allow her feet to dangle in the warm water, and I now marveled at their absolutely perfect shape. She glanced at me and rolled onto her side, braced on one elbow, and she raised her topmost knee, exposing her inner flesh to me. Her broad smile to me completed the unambiguous invitation.

Two high-pitched blasts from the grassy "stage" drew my glance, as well as at least a quick glance from others who were not too deeply engaged in their lustful couplings. Phenshraw himself stepped forward and I noticed for the first time the woman with the blindfold standing quietly to his right. Could that be...???!!

"My dear friends," the Prince intoned jovially, "we have a treat tonight beyond all expectations. We have after no little pleading from my family been able to persuade the Goddess of Music herself to join in our celebration of the Solstice here in our summer home and her adopted town of Speysard. She of course must wear one of our finest silken scarves to protect her eyes from the glare of the torches" -- with that the crowd of nobles laughed -- "oh, and perhaps some of you are not sufficiently attired that it would be proper for such an honored lady to be assaulted by the visage of your flabby, white.... uh, rear ends." The laughter grew. "Please enjoy the offerings from our most honored guest, Madame Jeara!"

My jaw dropped to my chest. Madame Jeara! The most famous flautist in all the land, a reclusive woman whose gifts with the flute could bring armies to tears and priests to the point of savagery. Beyond that, she was my own flute instructor. And, yes, she was my lover, a relationship borne of my adolescent innocence and her pain at the loss of her husband, whose death in the wars in the East had sent her into refuge at Speysard. Her earnings had permitted her to acquire and live at a home out on the cliffs, where she spent her days playing dirgelike paens to her lost husband, but would play no further performances.

When Madame Jeara's friends had implored her to work through her grief by resuming some contact with the world, she compromised by agreeing to give flute lessons to the two best of the flute students in the local schools. With all modesty, I must concede that I had shown considerable aptitude for the flute, and few boys could challenge my skills as music was not considered to be the most masculine of pursuits by most young men. When I arrived for my first lesson with my slender, bookish classmate Linna, I was surprised to discover that the legendary figure was not a middle-aged matron, but a tall, grey-eyed woman in her late twenties, with long, straight hair with naturally alternating streaks of ash blonde and light brown.

Jeara (as she insisted we call her) carried herself with quiet solemnitude, and Linna and I at first felt reluctant to continue with the lessons, feeling that they were little more than the product of Jeara's sense of obligation to carry out the wishes of her concerned friends. The two of us practiced madly between lessons in order to please her, much to the dismay of Brother Bartone, whose cell at the monastery was above my quarters. After a few weeks, Jeara's attitudes toward Linna and me began to warm, as she discovered, as do many, that in teaching one must articulate the basis of one's craft and can often enhance one's own skills in that discipline.

Between us, Linna and I had plotted to further bring Jeara out of her melancholy. Beyond our efforts to please her by constant practice, my brown-haired classmate and I would compose silly parodies of popular tunes, taking off wildly in flights of whimsy, while showing sufficient respect for each melody's structure to demonstrate some virtuosity. From these rehearsals, a warm, platonic friendship developed between Linna and I, and I looked forward to our practice sessions and the opportunity to make her freckled nose crinkle in mock disgust at my sometimes crude attempts at composition. Linna clearly was the far more accomplished musician and envisioned herself a professional musician in a few years. Although, because of her shyness, she was considered by our classmates to be aloof, she was bright beyond measure. Linna was fully aware what an extraordinary gift had been handed to her in the lessons from Jeara, who she worshipped to the point of emulating her clothing style.

I thought back to that magical, warm afternoon only a few months earlier where so much changed among the three of us.

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I had completed my chores at the monastery early and scampered up the dusty road to Jeara's cliffside home to arrive early, in the hope that she might assist me in some of the more difficult passages she had taught us so that I might catch up to Linna's skills. My light knock on Jeara's door went unanswered, but I could hear her flute wafting from beyond the thin wood. I slipped inside and headed through her main parlor to her back deck overlooking the open sea. The back door was pushed open to permit the breeze to cool the home, and through it I could see Jeara seated and leaning against a balustrade, her eyes closed, and her flute in hand.

She was playing a melody the beauty of which my simple talents cannot begin to describe. Her improvised melody captured the breeze, and the sea -- and her loneliness at the loss of someone dear. The dirge shifted into almost a military cadence, evoking images of her lost husband. One could almost see him in his uniform, tall and commanding.

The melody then softened, grew more intimate, as the man came to her -- yes, there was a melody by which she described herself: sure and gifted, but still open and submissive. The two of them jousted playfully, then more seriously. The pitch then lowered in pitch and volume, and my own loins stirred with the aural image of the soldier stroking the bare flesh of his lover, Jeara.

Sadly, the music started to fade, as though the two years since his death had started to unravel the fabric of her memory of him. I saw a tear of frustration bead at the corner of one of her closed eyes. I do not know what possessed me at my moment, but I somehow decided to pull my own flute from my belt and respond with a simple melody of my own, crafted on the spot. I tried to mimic her own smoky capture of the soldier's strength and grace, but unsurprisingly re-made him into an earnest but somewhat gawky young footsoldier.

Upon hearing my notes in my characteristic style, Jeara merely smiled wryly, and let her instrument fall from her lips. As my own playing began to flag in embarassment, her eyes opened and looked warmly toward mine, encouraging me to continue. She recognized that however limited might be my skills, I was truly beginning to feel the beckonings of the muse, and the powers of the music to capture and explore human emotions. With her eyes, Jeara beckoned me to recline behind her, while continuing my playing. As I lay back, she rested her head on my shoulder and joined in my tune.

With her wonderful tone, she guided me further into our tale, reassuring the young footsoldier to not be shy with the older widow. She replayed the sensual tone that had drawn me outside, and I nearly recoiled in shock at the intimacies suggested by the melody line. I suddently became aware that the softness of her slim flank was resting against my hip, and that the fragrance of her long, silken tresses gathered at the swell of my throat and wafted around me. I tentatively responded to her musical invitation, and she playfully teased me with snippets of sexy, ribald musical cliches. I grew more forceful with the sexual energy of the young, and she dared me to proceed further. I pressed on, with an almost cacaphonous fervor, my own young cock beginning to swell in my breeches. I began a salacious cadence, strong firm. She matched my own, hotly, and we lunged together harder and harder, higher and higher in pitch. I went on, synchronously stroking in a furious glissando, when I suddenly realized where I was and with whom I was engaged in this musical lovematch. Ideas fled from my young, amateurish lyrical heart, and I could only crash with the hellish heat of climax, spurting out blast after blast. Her flute soared while mine dipped, as we went on for what seemed like minutes. Playfully, as if to complete the story, we slowly descended with ever softer pulses and nips, and finally stopped and lay our flutes aside.

We sat there for a long moment, she looking out to sea; I gazing in the same direction over her shoulder. Our breath came out in surprised pants. My mouth dropped open in stunned exhaltation. Never had I experienced such a musical epiphany, and I expected that I never would again. Jeara slowly turned her head and shoulders to me, bracing herself with a hand on my thigh. I saw the first unabashed smile I had ever seen from her: 'Welcome,' her eyes seemed to say, 'to this new place where magic is created from music.'

She laughed aloud at the stunned expression on my face, and her free hand cupped my cheek in friendly greeting. Her other hand patted the thigh on which it rested. Alas, on that spot was the tip of my now fully-erect young staff, still stimulated to the brink by our sensual concert.

A range of emotions swept across her beautiful face then: surprise, embarrassment, and flattered pleasure. Our eyes locked for a moment and her breath seemed to catch, and then Jeara leaned forward and locked her arms around my neck. She pressed her lips sweetly to mine, and then pressed her body to me firmly.

I hesitated for only a moment, and then I pressed my arms around her waist and returned her kiss, communicating not only my adolescent, ever-present lusts, but my love and affection for this stunning woman who had opened this new territory to me. As the tender kiss continued, her hands began to explore me, to reacquaint herself with the body of a man. Emboldened, I allowed my own hands to drift over her torso, and I became enflamed by each slender swell and dip of her magnificence. Her loins pressed against mine, grinding her soft mons against my straining hardness.

Opening her eyes, Jeara broke the kiss but moved her face only inches from mine. Her unwavering stare probed me; I answered with hope, affection, confidence, and not a little lust. Seemingly satisfied with my response, Jeara pushed herself up off my shoulder and rose to her feet. Wordlessly, she dropped a hand to me, and I stood up, the front of my breeches now fully tented.

Taking my hand in hers, she led me into the house, through the parlor, and down the hall to a large bedroom that also opened onto a deck facing the sea. It was simply furnished, with only a large but simple bed, a nightstand with basin and candle, and a dresser.

Turning to face me, Jeara took hold of the hem of my shirt and drew it quickly over my head, cocking her head and smiling in acknowledgment at my slim but muscular form. My stupor at the series of events that led me to her bed chamber could not keep from me the realization that I had never seen Jeara so happy, so playful -- so alive. Her hands then quickly undid my belt and tugged my breeches to the floor. As my feet stepped out of them, her slim fingers drew up my thighs and then swirled around my throbbing, exposed member, measuring me, toying with me, enrapturing me.

As I groaned in pleasure, Jeara gently let go and turned her back to me. I picked up her hint and unfastened the drawstring at her neck which held up her linen robe. When she paused, I drew the garment over her shoulders and down her dangling arms. I leaned forward and kissed the sloping valley between neck and shoulder, then drew my lips down the middle of her back, taking the robe further down ahead of me. Her generous but taut ass came into view, and I dropped to one knee and rubbed my cheek against one soft buttock as the robe finally pooled at her feet.

I turned the standing woman to face me, and found my eyes no more than an inch from her downy valley. I pressed my lips to the center of her soft, light-colored pubic locks in tribute. My pursed lips descended to the opening of her fleshy folds, and the aroma of her arousal ascended to greet me. I kissed, I chewed, I worshipped those lips. My tongue stroked along the edge of the cleft, and then hungily slid inside, savoring her intimate juices. My hands, which were gently stroking her thighs, felt them quiver with tension and anticipation.

After long moments where her murmered endearments rose to muffled groans, she brought her fingers to opposite sides of my cheek and bid me to rise to my feet. As I did, her mouth again clamped onto mine, and her teeth nibbled at my lower lip. My hands brushed against the small, light-pink nipples that capped her modest but perfectly shaped breasts.

Together, we descended to the bed, and she pushed at my shoulders to have me lay on my back, as she knelt next to my hips. Her slender fingers again clutched at my stalk, but this time, firmly. She slowly drew her hand up and down several times, and I feared that I might spend if she were to continue too long.

A bead of my seed gathered at the tip. She leaned over as thought to examine my emission, and then barely parted her lips and took the reddened tip inside her mouth. I almost exploded as I felt her soft tongue tap at the pre-cum, and then slide over the lust-moistened end. After laving my rod for a moment, she slowly glided her wonderful lips back to the tip with slight suction, drawing the substance inside her. In my adolescence, I must confess, I could not help but think of what magic that this woman, the most accomplished flautist of our time, might bring to such oral ministrations upon my straining cock.

However, Jeara then pulled her mouth away altogether, and rose up onto her knees. The ash-blonde woman threw her legs over my hips so that her pussy rested just above my erection, and she guided me inside her with a sure hand. With only two firm pushes, I was completely inside her wet, tight glove. She rested her hands on my shoulders and then began to rock her loins on my hips, drawing me out of and then into her center of passions. I, on my back, clutched her hips and moved my own hips up to meet her fevered pushes. I gloried in the heated pressure of her tight walls on my burgeoning sword, as we continued our dance.

Her eyes flickered open and her mouth drew into an ecstatic rictus of pleasure as I further lunged up. She began to hum lightly, using her pitch, as well as the pace of her own hips to guide my tempo. She soon began to ride me faster, and I concentrated on postponing my own release until I was sure hers had come. I finally was rewarded with a muffled, shrill hum and felt her cunt muscles contract with pulsating jerks. I then cried out my own release, gasping as the seed spurted from me and filled the older woman's chamber. I lurched up again and again, spending deep into her each time.

As our ecstacy subsided, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the gentle sensations of Jeara's hugging moist channel on my deflating manhood. Long moments of such ecstacy accompanied by the warmth of the late afternoon sun completed my reverie.

Without warning, I felt her tense, and my eyes shot open. I looked up and saw her eyes dart in horror toward the door. My eyes followed, and saw standing in the doorway the slender Linna, flute bag in hand, her brown eyes welling with tears. Her lips quivered, and she barely blubbered, "No -- not the two of you; not together!" With a wail, she disappeared from the doorway.

Jeara slid off my now soft member, and we both quickly stood. Jeara threw on her robe and went after the young student, while I wrestled with my shirt and breeches. I came out to the main parlor, where I found the two women huddled on the couch. Linna's face was buried in Jeara's chest, and I could see the girl's light-brown curls and shoulders heave with her sobs. I crept by and motioned to Jeara that I would leave, but she instead motioned me to sit in a chair opposite them.

Through her sobs, Linna somehow explained that in coming up the hills she heard the sensual, and ultimately sexual, duets between Jeara and me. Realizing that I somehow had been elevated to some sphere of musical awareness that she, Linna -- considered the more musical of the two of us -- had not yet grasped. She crept into the house in curiosity, and saw the two of us embrace and then retire to Jeara's bedchamber for a lustful tryst. Crying into Jeara's chest, Linna now conceded that her despondency had at that point become complete, as she saw the two people who she most admired and loved -- musically, spiritually and physically -- were now locked into a union that could only exclude her.

As Linna finished her confession, Jeara and I sat in stunned silence. Suddenly, I realized how much my affection for the brilliant talents of this quiet, button-nosed girl really meant to me, and how much I physically cherished her as well. Jeara rocked the young girl in her arms, and Linna's tears finally subsided. Jeara then quietly explained how I had come upon her grieving playing and had joined the performance, which had led to our out-of-control joining.

Jeara explained, "Linna, dear, there is nothing to prevent you from performing with me in such a duet as well." She suddenly blushed as she realized the potential double meaning of her words.

Linna looked into her face with serious, red-brimmed eyes and protested, "But that's the point. How can I match the passion of your playing, and Jaze's, when the lust you can feel for him is what I feel for you and" -- there, Linna turned to me -- "and I've felt for the longest time for Jaze but you two don't for me?" Again, we sat in silence. Linna closed her eyes, as she could not bear to watch us after admitting such dual loves.

Jeara commended me to her with a soft, "Jaze." As I came over, she beckoned me to pick up the slender Linna, and led me back to her bedroom, with the girl in my arms. I gently dropped Linna's feet to the floor while holding her shoulders. The girl's eyes remained close until she felt the kiss on her lips, and, upon opening her eyes, was openly startled to discover that the lips were not mine, but those of Jeara.

Together then, Jeara and I stripped the flower-embroidered blouse from Linna's form and her full skirt from around her waist. We then disrobed each other and softly laid Linna back onto the bed. The older woman and I knelt beside her and took turns kissing the girl while allowing our hands to gently roam over her torse, lightly tweaking at the small, barely ripe breasts and lightly-furred mound of her loins. Our lips soon followed our hands, nipping and caressing her soft skin. She soon began to smile in raw pleasure at the sensualness of the pampering. Before long, however, the girl's sexual urges took over, and she began to almost wildly swing her head and legs about, finally shrieking as Jeara took the girl's virginal pussy lips between her teeth and began tugging at licking at Linna's sex.

One of Linna's flailing arms finally descended upon my re-swollen organ as I knelt beside her, and then her hand twisted around to grasp its thickness. Linna turned her sweet face toward me and impatiently flicked one of her lush brown curls away from her eyes. She then arched her neck toward me and took my thick cock into her pink lips. Her tongue lapped at the underside of the head and then swabbed at the tip, and I could tell she was exploring and savoring the taste of both my swollen cock and the the residue of Jeara's cuntal juices.

Linna's eyes flickered up to mine, and she kept them locked on me as she continued to nibble and lave at my engorged rod. The look of love and happiness and relief on her face gave to her a beauty that not even the most renowned of concubines could ever hope to match. She then closed her eyes and threw her face forward, drawing me further inside her heated mouth and bringing me closer to spending once again.

I pulled away and Linna instinctively drew her leg that was closest to me toward her chest. Needing no further communication, Jeara pulled her hungering mouth away from the girl and, with a soft tug at my thigh, guided me into the saddle of Linna's widespread thighs. Jeara darted to the head of the bed and sat sideways, allowing Linna to rest her head on the musician's lap.

Linna moaned slightly as my cock passed the portals of her inexperienced pussy, but she made no further complaint as I made my way inside her, except for one sharp intake of breath as I slowly ripped away the shield of her virginity. Throughout this entry, Jeara soothed the girl with gentle strokes of her temple, shoulders and breasts. After my pentration was complete and I began the most gentle surges I could muster, Jeara leaned over and gently kissed Linna, their tongues encircling and joining. My stroking of Linna went on.

In only a few moments, Linna emitted a soft, keening whine into Jeara's mouth as her spasms came over her. I waited until sure of her climax, and then permitted my own explosion, drawing a quick, surprised chirp from Linna as she felt the warmth of my seed splash inside her.

After a respite of only a few moments, Linna slid from the bed and pulled us outside, where she picked up our flutes. The three of us sat in the nude on the edge of the low wall protecting Jeara's deck from the surrounding cliffs, and began playing. We allowed Linna to take the lead, playing of children scampering around a pond, chasing a big green frog (with my impression of a basso frog nearly ending the concert from the women's laughter), and then telling of the young lovers who come to the pond to lie on its banks and engage in their trysts. The flutes of the two extraordinarily talented women soared over the milling gulls, while I, in my near exhaustion, contented myself with taking on the role of the willing but not-too-aggressive young men. Only darkness and the treacherousness of the unlit road back to the village ended the concert.

The final memories of that day some months before -- of Linna and I strolling hand in hand back to the village -- resounded through my head here in the ampitheatre at the crest of Solstice Castle as I watched the blind-folded Jeara pick up her flute and begin to perform for the assembled royals and the young maids who cavorted with them.

Continued in Chapter 9

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