Alice, me and Violette

Well the years have moved on and France is at war with Spain. Athos is now Captain and I am a Baron! Aramis  hangs around the palace protecting the young king and the Queen Regent then spends his other time at Athos’ farmstead visiting that extended family.

Me? Well I have my Alice, who one day I intend to marry when she will have me. We have a wonderful daughter, Violette, the most beautiful child I have ever seen. Yes, she takes after her mother. We have purchased a large house close to Athos’ farmstead which provides the security for my ladies, Alice and Violette, while I continue to soldier on in the Musketeers. Iva visits when she can.

And ….well let’s  just say Alice and enjoy I what we have always enjoyed…. and shall continue to tell of our adventures in and out of the bedroom just here. So please check in every now and again but be warned this blog is not for the fainthearted!

Written by @loyal_Porthos September 2015

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Plagued with sin 

 

A statue of Mary, mother of god resting in our marbled foyer next to a trickling fountain greets my family each day. Not yet married and living a life of fornication with my love, @Loyal_Porthos, the statues presence leaves a sense of guilt for my love of being bound and committing sinful acts when our bodies do unite as one. These acts , have blessed us with a beautiful little girl. So…at times I wonder…am I living in sin if God almighty has granted us a love unified and a creation of a life so precious.

 

Perhaps I am brainwashed, by the Nuns that inspected our bodies each month, checking for signs of development and maturity? Made and demanded to undress for their viewing, slipping from our scholarly frocks that keep us in God’s trust. Displaying characteristics of puberty in the form of growth and in relation to genital shielding that supposedly keeps our bodies free from sin and vile infestations.

Although, Mother superior’s ideas differed from others as she would announce that all sprouting of genital development be eradicated by removal with a scalpel. Her idea was expressed in such a manner as she believed in keeping our Youth frozen in time, therefore, this would not tempt us to use our bodies to satisfy any unwanted thoughts that stirred from so deep within.

“Blessed are the children of god”

She would proclaim under her breath as she circled us with a riding crop. That riding crop would surely strike our flesh if we were to flinch or protest against revealing our bodies, when demanded on inspection.

Often we were reprimanded to stand, lifting our arms as our budding breasts rested beautifully down our forms. Our nipples bracing in the stark of a room made darkened for her approval. At times, I would often wonder if she was looking a little too closely at my private parts. But I would decide to ignore the fact as my best friend and most trusted dorm partner was always at my side.

 

 

Olivie and I spent most days together, once our lessons of learning God’s word, then choir practice stole our voices like a conniving thief and our cruel and allocated chores were completed, we’d run to a field adorned in a flowery heaven. Our escape. There we’d lie amongst our only friendly solace’s, the only living organisms that truly took pity on us, the flowers of the field.

We’d whisper to them, stroke them gently as they were our only comfort beside the friendship we shared with each other, Olivie and I.

On the edge of the field, and where the woods grew dark, was that of my favourite blooms. They were Violets, a colour Mother Superior forbid us to groom. Why she hated those flowers, I do not know. She was never one to give explanation. That chore was left up to poor Sister Ines. She was a much older Sister, whose breasts weighed her down heavy as they would slump down past her rosary. The poor woman often suffered with back pain and struggled for breath after a meal. Her prayers were spent gasping for breath to complete our nightly words of God with “A……men”.

Poor Sister Ines, I don’t know anyone who would envy her position. Her features were plain and fingers short and pudgy. She failed to posses any such femininity what so ever. No wonder she resorted to staying at the Nunnery for most of life!

Besides all of that, she treated us with kindness and would often give Mother superior a look of chastisement whenever she kept us unclothed for too long. This gave Olivie and I sense of hope that we did matter. That we weren’t entirely plagued with sin.

But now my body is in full bloom like the Violet flowers we were forbidden to touch.

And since then, I have laid with men, giving my wanton flesh that quivers at their touch. Proffered once I have stirred their fire with the want in my eyes, the need in my caress and the teasing of my parted lips, from which has suppressed the swell of my pearl of desire. Warm slick, inner fibrous, wetness fastens  wantingly with each delighted gasp. Deliberate, sensual intruding that my lover invades me with as I lay beneath him and he between the softness of my thighs. Lips combining in demanding, heated kisses that draw the ache from pressing wetness as it engulfs our mutual need. Oh, the magnificence of overwhelming strength and width inside of me that hails such wanting passion. The glistening of flesh that leaves me momentarily, not completely but allowing the taunt of throbbing threshold that ensures entry, either full or partial. Nevertheless, engaging with strokes to my limits that leave me screaming for more and more.  Oh, god help me .. as my breasts are manhandled and cupped with manful force. A flickering tongue, outstretched and taunting as lips anchor down, then latch, pulling up on nipples, stretching at them as agonized tissue begs for mercy, and left deliciously raw. The obedience of arms stretched above my head, to give @Loyal_Porthos, all that we wants and all that he hungers for with ongoing abrupt demands into debauched pleasure, while the spread of sweet lips welcome each inundated barge ..amazing!

But my sexual journey started long before I slipped the sheets with each willing companion. Yes, my innocence was fractured on a day it was not intended for. Why, I recall the events so clearly..

Left behind are our scholarly frocks, replaced by flowing cotton heaven, complimented by a snow white cast. The sun’s light seemingly parades through the fabric, revealing soft covering that only shields at our pert, adolescent curves and full-thriving breasts. Slipping from one flourishing fruit tree to the next, while Olivie bends and swipes berries from each blooming bush, tarnishing at her delicate fingers. On my arm rests a basket, in its holding a warm bread stick and the aroma of aged, delicious cheese, from which we took from the cellar when the Nuns were at prayers.

 

 

Taking gifts from God, but I am sure he would have wanted us to nourish our bodies with his blessing’s. That is what is preached, his word of providing his temple with nutritional substance. So again, how could we have done wrong..

However, stepping through the wave of long green grass, trying desperately to avoid the flower beds on reaching near the gate entrance as we slice beyond the wooden arch doors into freedom. A freedom that would change our lives forever. For the better? I’d like to think so..

 

 

 

Resting on a precipice, lying face down, our features pressed sidelong atop of our hands, accompanied with the nakedness of our curves, drying out in the salacious sun. Diamond droplets seemingly, hover and cling for life as they trickle and spill softly down firm, supple flesh. The divide in our peachy cheeks ever apparent as rounded protruding breasts swell out from our bodies that we repose down on. Rest is needed after our forms playfully splashed and kicked through a deep pool of engaging water that engulfed places where the devil himself whimpers to touch. The blessed sensation of transparent liquid immersing around our sexual lips, swirling and cupping like a chalice of holy significance, holding us there with intentions to imbibe from our breasts as nipples relax softly once our forms acclimatized to the waters succumbing. Freedom like this….never felt so good.

Pushing back dampened tresses of hair that slaps down the curve of my spine as the slender branches of a lonely willow limbs sway down, beseeching our touch. Sorrowfully gliding just past our bodily forms in the ache of a slight breeze that slowly picks up and kisses at our skin, when Olivie stretches a finger over and pokes at my side. A lazy response is given with hooded, content eyes.

“What is it?

“Have you ever wondered what it feels like for a man to be inside of you?

This question comes with a curious smile of my own, along with a strong desire to know more as I reposition myself and prop myself up and rest my face on my palm to lean on my elbow. The extent of crushing breasts apparent and the presentation of my soft, sweet pleasure

“I have, but why do you ask?

“No reason”

Olivie leisurely rolls onto her back, then helping herself up onto to lean on her elbow as well

 

“It just came to mind ..and I know you’ve been fondling with yourself again”

 

Her eyes dart down to my pressed lips, meeting mine once more and narrowing

 

“I heard you moaning again through the night and I too have done the same..”

 

The beat of my heart quickens as I fold one leg over the other, lowering my chin

 

“I’m not denying it, I have…touched my private…parts ..as I have enjoyed what my fingers can do..”

She stares at me for what seems forever, the suspense is restricting in my throat as I swallow down my dignity.

With a deafening silence, sweeps in her response that leaves me shivering with interest

 

“Well I have enjoyed it too ..but I want to feel more”

 

And in that moment, the heat between us draws with a magnifying effect, pulling us both in closer as her fingers slip between my folds and our lips touch with heavy breaths.

 

~ To be Continued in the New Year ~

 

Written by @AliceClerbeaux 

 

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Tweets between @Loyal_Porthos and @AliceClerbeaux written on June 15th 2014

A candle with no wind

Porthos greets Alice with a smile and no words are needed.

She pulls him through the door and leads him to a special room at her residence with a slow glance back over her shoulder. Her sultry eyes flash in anticipation of the coming storm as they reach the door. She turns back to face him with eyes enticing the ragging dark in him…

“Come and play where it’s…warm”

Something flickers deep inside him as he follows. With  a certainty that his gnawing hunger is to be fed… an  anticipation of something exhilaratingly different delights and lures Porthos forward.

Alice swivels on her heels to face him, her hand remaining within his grasp, his strength bridging the chain connected to her mind, her desire…so deep. She then draws away from him slowly… from the sudden friction and heat that sparks hot embers  between them. Beauty is unveiled in the form of the images as she smooths her delicate fingers to retract protective sheets  from three proud standing mirrors… and she smiles back into his eyes with eyes of… mischief!

Porthos grins a bawdy leer,

“Mirrors! My you are a lady of surprises!”

He pulls at Alice’s hand to firmly hold it next to his muscular chest. His eyes hunger down into hers.

“Well I’ve got a few surprises of my own…”

Cupping her face he crushes his lips purposefully down onto hers then breaks away,

“Why don’t you undress for me first…slowly!”

Alice bites down on her lip as her fingers skim the fabric from the blush of her flesh so soft to touch, revealing, displaying  her  mounds of sensual desire, full and pert. Her lips part with a soft moan, while gently guiding her gown down slowly to betray her  defined waist, before divulging the splendour of heaven as her gown falls softly and pools at her feet.

Porthos’ eyes dart over Alice’s voluptuous form with eagerness as he backs away unbuckling his belt. Sitting on the bed he eyes the position of the mirrors and grins.

“Crawl! … Crawl to me!”

The atmosphere is sizzling… Alice watching him, Porthos watching her. Her eyes flare seductively as she  slowly turns to bend like  that of a regal beast and raises her hand between the softness of her welcoming thighs, while glancing over her shoulder and floats a hand over to where Porthos’ hunger craves. With a brisk turn  Alice faces him, lowering herself to the floor, leaning back on her hands and heels, only to part her legs, resembling much like when the suns morning rays warm  the petals of a flower in bloom. On all fours she crawls toward him, nearing, closer, closer still, beguiling his temptation  with eyes ablaze and breasts… that sway, while her tongue succumbs with a sweep down upon lips gesturing sweet carnal defeat.

Alice’s  feline crawl stirs the throbbing life force in Porthos’ strong loins as all her glories array themselves for his pleasure. He  awaits her claws as they slowly climb his  legs, capturing them with the leather of his belt. Pulling the bind tight, danger darts deep and darker with spine thrilling delicious delirium as he pulls her up… so vulnerable to his needs.

The leather of his belt reigns down the fires of hell upon Alice’s wrists and she pants with burning, salivated longing.

“Please…”

Smouldering want and self denial scorches through her veins as Porthos fastens her binds above her head to the bed.

“Lift your head!”

His voice steely firm, commanding as he cover her eyes with a silk scarf.

“Now use your senses and enjoy!”

With her naked body taut with effort and bound her beast thirsts to see beyond reflections of her own captivity.  Sensuous  lines and hips writhe beneath Porthos with exquisite apprehension.

Porthos looks around the room and gathers items of interest. Slowly he smooths his hands over Alice’s writhing flesh, smiling inwardly. Holding a burning candle above the softness of her breasts, slowly and salaciously he drips  melted wax onto the the valley of her chest, watching as her body arches deliciously as the heat soars through her.  He pours ice cold wine to cool her heated flesh then laps the trail of cooling liquid with his tongue, a tongue like wet velvet, but with a  breath, hot, steaming breath, yet soothing to her burning flesh.

Alice hisses, arching her angles even higher as Porthos indulges upon her kiln heated vessel. Beauty truly unravelled as Alice’s hips undulate and so sinfully at this singeing sensation that sears through to her very core. Stretched out before him the succulence of her chests and the rawness of her nipples swell within the sanctuary of his soothing mouth, enticing  toes to curl and legs that unfurl, announcing a glistening silky trail of ecstasy.

His eyes burn down sultry desire on your weeping want as he drips more wax on her hollowed belly, repeating with relish  this tortuous play of wanton desire.

“..I’ll do what you ever want. I…want you…so badly”

Her lips quiver gently as she imagines singeing a look of fire up into Porthos’ dominating eyes, while her essence…it warms and unfurls delectably between her trembling thighs.

“I’m going to make you wait….”

He teases and walks away.