Heart's Tempest

When his tongue flicked against my nub, I nearly climbed the walls. I struggled against the sensation, tossing my head back, as his hot tongue slowly circled it. His tongue flattened and tapped against my hard clitoris, before lapping and sucking it into his mouth. His fingers withdraw momentarily and I sighed, more fingers came in contact with me and spread the lips of my pussy, his tongue slipped in, wiggling inside me. My knees trembled; my body quivered; my thighs quavered. I pushed my head against the headboard surprised when I felt my cheek meet the soft pillow. I was afraid I was going to collapse. His tongue slowly slid up and down my slick slit, slowly tracing the puffy outer lips, slurping up the juices I was rapidly releasing. His fingers plunged in and out of me, extending far back to reach my g-spot, the longest finger arching up against it. I moaned into the pillow, grasping the headboard tighter. Everything he was doing to me, I felt a hundredfold because of the sensory deprivation of sight. It was delicious. From the sounds he was making, even whirring ones, he found me delicious too. His tongue returned to my clit, his lips taking hold of it, sucking it into his mouth, to swirl his tongue around it. I felt a hand grasp my right breast, rolling the erect nipple between his thumb and forefinger. It was more than I could take. I clenched my muscles around his fingers, threw my head back, and rode his face, bucking my body up and down, yelping when I felt his touch as he rolled the sensitive pearl nestled atop my mound between his fingers. His tongue went back to torment my pulsating heat. My pussy quivered as whimpers of pleasure escaped my trembling lips.

"Let go and come for me." He coaxed, moving his hand to the other breast and twisting harder. His mouth vibrated against me. I dropped my hands and slid in a puddle to his chest. He lifted me up and turned me around, laying me along the length of his body. I felt something hard bounce against my cheek and groaned, realizing it was his cock. I grasped his cock in my hand and stroked him up and down. "Don't worry about me." His muffled reply came. I let go, searched for him with my lips, gave his cock a kiss and then held onto the bedsheets, bucking back against his chin and mouth. He was squeezing my ass. I squeezed my thighs around his shoulders, feeling my orgasm building. My body was burning up from the inside out. "Now." His voice urged, as he slipped three fingers into me and ferociously attacked my clitoris with his mouth. I cried out.

"Oh God, I'm coming. Diarmuid. God, wait, wait, too much. Ohhh..." Gasping and moaning and came I did! Torrents of liquid flowed from my body into his awaiting mouth. His tongue licked it up and plunged in for more. I trembled from head to foot, expanding my ribcage to take more air into my lungs. I dropped my head down onto his abdomen, my legs going limp, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. He ran his hands up and down the backs of my thighs, causing my body to quiver at the light touch. I think I felt a tear slip down my eye, but couldn't be sure.

"Are you ready for more?" His voice asked me. I rolled off of him and started to pull the blindfold off, but his hands touched my hands and I stopped. My chest was still heaving. I felt his warm breath on my face and fingers slip beneath the fabric covering my eyes. He gently lifted the makeshift blindfold. I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the soft light. A warm glow flickered against the wall. He had lit candles at some point. "Are you OK?" He lazily stroked my hair. The intensity of his blue eyes softened by the candlelight. He had swept his burnished hair back on his shoulder. I nodded my head, smiling.

"I did not scare you, did I?" His concern genuine.

"Not too much." I laughed a little. He frowned. "I mean, in the beginning I felt out of control and panic started rising up. But for some strange reason that I can't quite figure out, I trust you. You helped to reassure me. Thank you." I brought his face to mine and kissed his lips soundly, then eased his head back to my chest, running my fingers through his hair, then down to his strong shoulders. I circled his shoulders with my fingertips and smiled to myself when I saw his muscles twitch in response. His hand splayed against my stomach, fingers inching down toward my wetness.

"Well?" His fingers circled above the sensitive bundle of nerves that he had reduced my clit to.

"Yes." I said breathless as he inched closer to it, tantalizing me. He sat up and knelt on the bed, grasping my feet and pulling me towards him. He put a pillow under my lower back and then lifted my legs, stretching them up to his chest, keeping them closed. I watched him as he reached over to the nightstand and opened the drawer pulling out a condom. I wondered to myself what the heck a spirit, angel, or whatever he was needed a condom for. It no longer mattered, as I felt the tip of his cock slide against my still slick lips. My lower lips fluttered, as my inner muscles leaped to awareness. He slowly eased himself inside of me, a firm grip on my legs. As his cock pierced my center, I gripped the bed sheets, thankful he was holding my weight. He began to slowly thrust deep within me. I slipped my hand down to play with my clit, needing to feel the friction. As he drove in and out of me, my other hand squeezed my left breast, hard. His grunts and moans adding to my own.

I'd never taken a man so deeply inside of me before! When the tip of his cock stroked my G-spot, I screamed and a flood of fluid poured, no, shot out of me, rushing forth like a river. I moaned, tossing my head back and forth, my chest heaving, my heart speeding, my body trembling. I had heard about female ejaculation but had never, in my wildest dreams had the pleasure of experiencing it. Ohmygod! That had to be what was happening. That amount of fluid shooting out could never be from a simple orgasm. I bit back another scream as he lifted me further off the bed. He shoved another pillow under me to ease the strain on my back. I admired the way the muscles of his chest and arms moved, as he plunged into me.

"I'm going to come." I told him. He pulled out of me and lowered my body to the bed. Then pulled me into a sitting position, tugging me onto my wobbly feet. He grabbed my waist and threw me over his shoulder and jumped off the bed. I wondered what he had planned for me next. He strode over to the doorway, slid me down his body and held me against the wall. I wrapped my legs around his waist and held on as his cock resumed its pounding inside of me. I entwined my arms around him and moaned, throwing my head back, as he supported all of my weight. After a few minutes in that position, he carried me over me out of the room and over to the couch, where he sat down with me on top of him. Yes! Finally I was going to be on top and in charge. I triumphed inside, but the triumph was short lived. He had other plans. Yes, I was going to be on top. But, no, I was not to be in charge. He slid me onto his hot thickness and raised me up and down on his shaft. I marveled at his incredible strength, letting him use my body for his pleasure.

Feeling a tiny bit at a loss, I leaned forward, pushing my breasts into his face. He eagerly took one into his mouth and circled my taut nipple with his tongue. His teeth grazed my nipple and I began to tighten my inner wall muscles against his shaft. This drove him wild and he bit down gently, tugging my nipple with his teeth, growling. I still had not come and was beginning to feel bereft.

"Please." I murmured in his ear. "Let me come."

"Hmm." His voice teased, as he released my nipple and looked up at my pleading eyes. Then he shifted on the couch and lay down, bringing me down on top of him. He placed his arms behind his head, his elbows out to the side and grinned at me. "Go for it." At last! I took the reins, so to speak, and positioned my body how I wanted it, taking him inside me and riding him to oblivion. I undulated my hips against him, bouncing up and down on his cock, murmuring and wriggling. His hand lazily came down and swept against my clit, driving the pleasure even further. Pants and moans and ohmygods were flowing from my lips. He leaned up, stroked my back, pulled me down to his chest and kissed me, as his fingers floated across the curve of my ass. I could feel myself peaking and knew a climax was at hand. I wanted him to come too. His hands gently gripped my hips, and he picked up the pace slamming me against him.

"Argh!" I growled back at him as he lifted me off of him and stood up, leaving me staring at him with hell in my eyes. "Stop doing that!" He laughed and swooped down on me. "Don't even think about picking me up again. I can walk just fine. See?" I took a step to demonstrate and my knees collapsed, sending me to the floor. He shook his head. It was cold in the main room, and we both had goosebumps.

"You are going to hurt yourself." He stated as he helped me to my feet and wrapped an arm around me, guiding me back to the bedroom, turning his face to kiss my ear. "Bed?" He questioned. I nodded and climbed into the bed. He walked over to the smaller fireplace and quickly refreshed the burning embers with logs, setting the flames going again, before returning to me with a blanket. He climbed in next to me. I lay down, as he gently lay on top of me, pulling the blanket up over top of us. I spread my thighs and welcomed him into my warmth. I felt an overwhelming sense of comfort and my heart opening up, as he caressed my hair, whispered kisses across the bridge of my nose to each cheek, and licked along my clavicle. His hips swiveled and I gasped as my inner walls were stimulated. The way he moved his body amazed me.

He nestled within me and did something that can only be described as magical, as he slowly moved inside. His length filled me and he moved in just such a way that every part of my inner core was stroked gently. I ached and whimpered into his hair, as he whispered sweet nothings in my ear. A wave of pleasure rippled through my body and I began to writhe beneath him, feeling myself build up, determined to have my long drawn-out orgasm at last. I milked his cock, my nails biting into his shoulders, my teeth tugging at his lip, dragging him under with me. I let go.

"Oohhh....my....god!" I screamed into his mouth, as he slipped his tongue in and swirled it against mine. As my body wept, fluid seeping out between my thighs, he picked up the pace, driving himself within me, seeking his own release. I urged him on, wrapping my thighs around him and digging my heels into his ass. "Come for me, Diarmuid. Show me how much I please you." I purred seductively. Needing no more urging, he drove as deeply into me as he could. His body shuddered, his breath coming in gasps, his voice moaning and grunting. I felt the hot pulse of him fill the condom as he came inside. I swallowed his scream of pleasure, purring in his ear as I orgasmed again. My body awakening to the wonder of pleasure I had never felt before! He collapsed on top of me, puffing out his breath.

"Wow." His words as he eased himself out of me and lay at my side, resting his head on my chest. I felt soft silk caress my breasts and his warm cheek rest against my heart. He gently tapped on my belly.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

"Finding the rhythm of your heart." He stated. He turned so he was facing me, still with his head on my chest. "How do you feel?"

"Totally and completely fulfilled." I whispered. "Thank you."

"My pleasure, baby." He whispered, wrapping his arm around me and entwining his legs with mine. I yawned and stretched languorously. He quickly discarded the spent sleeve in a tissue. "Warmer?" An impish gleam in his eye.

"Hot!" I answered back. "That was the most amazing thing I've ever experienced. Is that what it is like making love to an angel?" I asked as he ran his fingertips along my skin.

"I'm guessing it is." He said, with a curious tone.

***

"Tell me about you, what you remember about yourself." I said softly, hoping he would open up a little. I really knew nothing about him. I wasn't sure if he was a man: living or dead, an angel: of light or darkness, or something different altogether. He was an enigma. I knew we didn't have much time together, and I needed to know as much as I could, so I could always hold him and this experience within my memory and within my being. Not that I was going to have any trouble with that. He lifted his head and moved it down to my stomach.

"I worked with my hands. I want to say that I made weapons for a living. But that doesn't seem quite right" He began.

"A blacksmith?" I questioned. It would make sense with his build. He nodded his head. I closed my eyes and got a glimpse of a strong solid sweat-slicked back bent over a blazing fire, the sound of metal clashing against metal, sparks flying, the smell of sulfur. A curved shape glowed red and I watched as the muscled arms withdrew the shape from the fire, holding it up. The blue eyes seemed to be the only feature not blackened on his face. He looked over his shoulder. I followed his gaze and saw a horse standing there, waiting. I opened my eyes.

"Horseshoes." I said.

"What?" Diarmuid turned his body so he was facing me.

"You made horseshoes. A blacksmith and a farrier." I confirmed, based on the vision I had just seen.

"How would you know that?" His gaze trained on me. He was in disbelief.

"I saw it." I shrugged. "I don't know why or how. But I saw you. You held up a horseshoe." Not a warrior, but a sexy blacksmith. Mm, I was liking this vision stuff! I wanted to see more. He had closed his eyes and looked unsettled.

"Can you remember anything more?" I asked him.

"I remember tents, people, food cooking, laughter." He concentrated. I closed my eyes and did so as well.

"A camp perhaps?" I suggested. "A war camp?"

"Perhaps." He acknowledged. "Not a war camp. I was never in a war, that much I do know." I sighed slightly disappointed.

"Can you describe the clothing the people were wearing?" I encouraged him. But, I didn't need him to describe the clothing. The vision was back and what I saw shocked me. There were ladies dressed in Medieval style dress, some Edwardian, even Victorian. There were gypsies and warriors and gentlemen. I even saw wings. What the heck was going on?

"Diarmuid." I said gently, not quite knowing how to approach the subject.

"Yes?" He asked me, his eyes hopeful that I had seen something that might help him.

"Um." I took a deep breath and plunged in. "What year do you think you are from?"

"I don't know. The 16th century possibly. Why?" He was studying me and I tried to look away. But he touched my cheek, bringing my face back into his line of vision.

"I'm not quite sure you are from so long ago." I offered quietly.

"How do you mean?" He demanded.

"Well, in my vision I saw people dressed in various styles of clothing, period clothing, garb." I explained.

"Go on." He nodded, eagerly.

"I also saw an audience of people watching you smite the metal." I look at him directly.

"The villagers sometimes came to watch." He told me.

"Diarmuid." I slid my legs out from beneath his. He moved off of me and I sat up and took his hands in mine, taking a deep breath. "This audience was much more recent than you are thinking. These were no villagers. These people were wearing jeans and shorts and sundresses." I paused.

"What are you saying?" His voice rose a pitch.

"It is possible at all that you may have been an actor?" My voice squeaked out. He scoffed and laughed a big belly laugh.

"My dear girl, perish that thought this moment. Nay, I 'ave ne'r been an actor b'fore. I think yer a bit touched in the head there lassie." The jump of dialects and accents had my head reeling. I had to help him understand, as gently as I could - if not who he was - at least what he was. I still held his hands, so I brought them to my lips and kissed the knuckles.

"I think all ya'll you have been watching too many movies." He said to me, now taking on a country twang.

"See there! You know what movies are." I poked him in the chest.

"Of course I do. I have been stuck on this earth for a long long time." He was adamant. I could tell he was confused and his ire was rising. "Just spell it out plainly for me and then we can move on, after we have a good laugh at your vivid imagination."

"Diarmuid, I do believe that you were a blacksmith. But I also believe you might have been an actor, played a role in a Renaissance Faire at some point in your life. You have knowledge of many accents and roles, which you just now slipped in and out of. You know too much of modernity, even if you have been stuck here, as you say. Can you consider the idea that maybe you have not been waiting so very long after all?" My eyes implored him to see reason.

"Are you going to the Scarborough fair; parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme." He started singing. Man, he was going off the deep end! I wished there were a computer around so I could try and show him and convince him that what I was saying was true. "She was fair of skin, gold of hair, had eyes of summer skies. She loved me and I loved her. I loved her. She left me. She left me alone. Alone at the altar. On Valentine's Day. Our friends and family gathered around. She was my life. She was to be my wife. Gone from this world. I could not bear the pain." His voice was monotonous, sad, despairing. I wrapped my arms around him and held him close to me.

I removed a sword from the fire and hid it away. I snuck it off the faire-grounds. I knew I could get fired. Everything forged on the grounds belonged to the faire. This would be the day to end the pain. The day to end the sorrow. The day to rejoin my darling love. This would be our day of days." I listened to him. He didn't seem aware of his words. He was confusing me. I was so tired and my mind had started wandering before he started his explanation. I was on the fence about how much to believe. One thing was for sure, he seemed to believe his story. Now, where had I experienced that before? I put my guard up. My ex-husband loved to fabricate stories to make himself look better. But my heart, dammit, told me that this man before me told me truth. How did I decide?

"What did you do?" I asked not sure I wanted to know the answer. Expecting that I already knew it.

"I waited a year. I waited a year until the next Valentine's Day came around. I needed time to design the perfect weapon. The weapon that would represent the sword that she pierced my heart with. I would pierce my heart with my own creation. I waited until after dusk and then rode one of the shire's horse to the graveyard where my love lay. I stood beneath the stone angel, the face the likeness of her. I fell to my knees and looked up at her through the falling snow. My beautiful angel. I unsheathed the sword from the scabbard at my waist, held it up. It glinted in the darkness catching the candlelight. It was tragically romantic!" His voice picked up, as he absently stroked my cheek. The pain in his voice. The grief in his eyes was real. Even an actor couldn't fake that depth of anguish. I wanted so desperately to believe him. But could I?

"I'm sorry for the pain you suffered." I whispered. He didn't seem to hear me. He continued.

"As I set the point to my breast, I heard her call my name. She had the sweetest voice, my Juliet. I stood and stumbled toward the voice, toward the light I saw. That's when I tripped." He gave me a sidelong glance.

.

"What did you trip over?" I asked him.

"I tripped over another angel." He whispered, shifting his eyes to mine fully, holding them there. "A snow angel freezing in the cold. She shivered uncontrollably. Her lips were blue, her face whiter than the snow. Life was seeping out of her fast. I scooped this lovely snow angel in my arms and held her close to me, praying that she hold on. Praying that my heat would warm her. She seemed so frail at the time." He stopped talking and touched my lips with his, sliding them against mine. I sighed softly, wanting to hear more. I felt jealous of Juliet and of the snow angel.