The sun had warmed me into a cozy oblivion and I fell asleep in the grass. Flushed from exertion and naked under the sky. I didn’t hear the dusk birds begin their song, nor the crickets take out their fiddles to welcome the night. My dance in the arms of the rain wore me out to the bone and I slept. 

Only to rouse from the peaceful depths of sleep to a strange coolness on the night air and a white light piercing my eyelids - which is strange on the night of the new moon.

I flutter my eyelids open with effort as I continue to awaken fully. And in the darkness of night before me is a white glow. I pull myself up onto my knees, afraid of unwelcome visitors prowling with flashlights in the night. But the glow isn't from anything man made nor even of this earth. 

A man is draped in the white light. His stature tall. His skin, an opalescent white, looks as smooth as river stone. Hair a silken, silver, streams down his shoulders. Eyes grey as moon craters. His face expressionless, but eyes fixed on me - crouching foolishly in my bare skin, like a helpless doe. His body hazy, camouflaged by moonlight emitting from his skin. 

He moves toward me, slowly, purposefully. I no longer feel fear. This is no creature of earth. He is the moon, come down from the night sky. I tremble in awe and wonder. Unable to move. Transfixed. 

He stops, just inches in front of me. His light cool, but not cooling. The goosebumps that rise across my skin are not from any cold that was emitted from his flesh. 

His eyes hold mine, then break to look toward his seat in the heavens. I follow his gaze, confirming what my spirit had recognized on its own. 

Swiftly, he bends down before me and sinks his fingers into the grass, straight through into the damp soil below. I feel his body hum. Almost a melody, but vibrating from his whole being. His head bent. 

Compelled, I mimic the actions of this celestial body before me. Curling onto my knees and wrapping my fingers into the grass, scraping soil under my fingernails. 

I feel his humming penetrate my skin, work its way into my bones, bubble up my throat into a hum of my own. Somehow, with senses beyond my awareness, I find the harmony to this strange, celestial song. I feel the spinning of the earth, see the infinite swirling of our globe among the stars.

He pulls his right hand out of the soil, bits of loam clinging to his skin. He reaches toward me and wraps his fingers gently around my throat. I know innately that he is holding me, like a musician and his instrument, to perform his song, moving it from his divine body through mine.

His grasp is soft. But I know I cannot free myself. Even if the desire arose. He stands, guiding me up as well. 

“Sing” his voice comes like it is rising from deep under snow, icy but sweet like the shock of snow on bare skin. 

I part my lips, not knowing what to sing, but knowing I must obey and turn my hum into full-throated singing. Somehow my spirit knows this song as if it was sung to me in the womb. 

No words leave my lips, at least not of any earthly language. But my voice soars into the night air, carried on the wind that had held me in my dance hours earlier, reaching the ears of the sun who had already departed for the night. 

The moon’s hand on my throat tightens, I feel him pouring his song into me. His harmonies still vibrating out from him - enveloping me, controlling my vocal chords to bring his song into the night. 

My knees begin to tremble. I am out of breath but the song keeps soaring and pouring out of my lungs. Sensing my weakness, he brings his left hand to my waist to steady me, closing the gap between us so that my body is supported by his. His pressure on my throat increases.

Blood pounds in my head and my eyesight dims as I gaze past his furrowed brow toward the stars. His fingers apply their own unique pressure within his grasp. Like the playing of keys on a flute, he coaxes the aria from me. I am his instrument. He performs his night symphony through my body. I feel his song dancing along every nerve, my body alight with musical energy. It builds as the song is meant to. Everything around us sings the underscore - the settling dew, the blades of grass, the bobbing heads of flowers closed for the night. 

The melody crescendos and my throat is nearly hoarse, but finally the moon's song reaches its apex with a long thrilling note and he withdraws his fingers from my throat, settling his hand on the center of my chest. My voice and lungs are my own again and I gasp for air as if surfacing from watery depths. 

He leans into me, his lips brushing against my ear, and whispers, “Perfect”. My knees give out as relief rushes through me. He guides my body gently to the ground, kneeling over me, hands still on my waist and the center of my chest.

I am transfixed in his glow. His silvery hair flowing down his chest. The strange coolness of his hands against my flushing skin. “Night’s daughter.” He calls me with a sigh and he leans down with parted lips and kisses me. 

I feel moonlight splash across my lips, over my tongue, down my throat. Filling my belly with coolness. It leeches into my bloodstream, moonlight flooding my veins. Celestial waters renewing me, binding me to this being of music and darkness and might. 

My heartbeat intensifies, but slows, thudding, as it pumps honey-thick moonlight instead of red blood. His lips caress mine and his tongue reaches to suck mine into his mouth. I can taste the musical notes on his breath. 

He pulls his mouth from mine and I feel a loss, although I can still feel his light coursing within me now. “Night’s daughter,” he begins, “the stars chose you, prepared you, to be an instrument in the celestial orchestra. You have performed your destiny well, bringing my song to the earth tonight. Bid me, and I will send you to sleep, to remember this night only as an enchanting dream. Or choose to be mine, as my perfect instrument. And I will return to you to perform our song and honor your body each new moon hence.”

Words catch in my throat. As heavenly a dream as it would live in memory, I must not lose its truth. I am already aching to have the song course through me again. His song, his voice. Straining I raise my moonlight-heavy arms to clasp my hands over his, still pressed against my chest. My throat is raw from rapturous song, and the heavy working of his hands to coax the music into the night. But I manage one hoarse word, trembling with gratitude and yearning. “Yours.”

A soft smile broadens his lips. I see satisfaction in his eyes. He draws his hand up and presses it gently over my throat. Instead of pressure I feel a rising. His hand trails back down and presses firmly over my heart. Then further and presses again over my belly. Further still, just above my mound, and presses. “Mine.”

The moonlight he has already poured inside me rises to my throat, my heart, my belly, my pubic bone. The glow emits through my skin, like stars encrusted on my bare flesh. He stands and my body rises with him. Floating in his orbit. The moon of my moon.

The moonlight stars in my skin begin to burn like ice. Breasts to the sky, my body jolts as the moonlight burns through my flesh. Each one reaching a tendril of light out, shooting through the air and flinging itself toward his throne. No words are needed. I understand that I am his. That his light is anchoring me to him, to his eternal seat in the heavens. And he will follow the chains of light to find me each new moon hereafter. 

I am hovering as the moonlight chains make their way to bind me to the foot of his throne. He trusts they will reach their destination through the heavens.

His feet lift from the ground, floating next to me. His arms reach out and right me, letting my limbs fall at my sides. Now floating like a flute at attention. Waiting to be played. 

“”Night’s daughter, you will not regret belonging to me. I will fill you with moonlight. And you will be free, except on the night of the new moon.”

I cannot find words to speak to this being. This heavenly body that controls the tides and now controls me. I blush and nod my contended obedience. 

“I have not tied your tongue intentionally, little flute.” My stomach flutters to be called such. “But perhaps I may untie it.”

His body connects with mine, his moonlit fingers gently cradling my neck and he kisses me. Differently this time. I feel his moonlight cross my lips more playfully. I suppose it has no need to rush to fill me, as I am already his. 

His lips suck my lower lip while his fingers brush my ear lobe. His tongue passes the threshold of my lips and delicately explores my mouth. Timidly, I let my tongue explore back. His lips grin into mine as he grunts his approval of my response. 

My arms are lighter now, the moonlight flowing in me feeling more natural by the second, under his touch. I raise them to brush his silver locks behind his shoulder and wrap my arms around his neck. Pressing my body into his chest. The moonlight glowing from my belly, breasts, and pubic bone let out a soft hiss as they meets his stony flesh. 

He deepens our kiss. His tongue less delicate - more hungry - inside of my mouth. His hands glide down my sides and he grasps my waist and nestles his arms in the small of my back, pressing me in.

He breaks our kiss and I gasp as his light fades from my tongue. “Patience, little flute.” His voice a gentle growl. His cool fingertips find my chin and he angles my face to the sky with assured control. His lips find my throat, sucking softly at the place where my moonlight (once his own) now shines. 

I whimper as his lips and teeth urge the blood to flush the sensitive skin of my neck. His hand winds through my hair to hold my head back for his access. I feel the light pulling from my throat into him as he nibbles and sucks. I suddenly feel a loss, a darkness. “My light!” I gasp. Deep laughter rumbles up through him and falls out his lips onto my neck. “MY light,” he chuckles. And I immediately feel his breath, breathing his light back into my throat, filling me with light again. His light. 

I sigh, a sensation of relief so powerful surges through me that I nearly lose my grip on his neck. But he does not lose his grip on me.

He chuckles again. The sound is like the faraway rumble of an avalanche. My brief panic is melted away. He tucks his head down to my heart space and nuzzles at the moonlight glowing there. His chin, cool to the touch, nestling between my breasts. His breath causes goosebumps to ripple over my tender breasts and cause my nipples to harden. I wreath my fingers through his hair, holding him to my heart. 

His tongue reaches out and traces the edge of the moonlight circle that partially covers my breast. His tongue meets the light like an icicle, cold and melting at the same time. I notice how hot my flesh has become. So entranced by his divinity, I barely had the senses to notice my arousal. 

But as his moonlit fingertips trace my breast and find my nipple, letting cold light flow in, I feel a surge in my depths and the warmth of my nectar spill down my inner thigh.

His lips clamp around the globe of my breast and his tongue circles my areola. His hand trails down and encourages my leg to wrap around his hip. I realize, as if suddenly, that we are suspended in the dark. All light his. All I need do is cling to him.

I sigh in sudden rapture. Clinging so tightly to him that I am aware of his whole physique for the first time, his shoulder muscles broad and lean, his chest firm and smooth as the most polished river stone. His waist tapering to a rigid shaft like alabaster, pressing into my thigh. His muscles are the rolling hills of the moon's surface. His lips the edges of a crater that I am destined to fall into, unlikely to ever find my way out.

His teeth grate across my nipple and my back arches, causing his teeth to pull more tightly at the sensitive, reddened flesh. His teeth feel like ice slashing into my skin, but his cool tongue soothes the icy burn immediately, circling my nipple slowly after releasing his teeth. He clamps his mouth closed and sucks deeply – moonlight rushing up through the blood vessels and building up in swollen flesh. All of the light he bestowed on me rushing to meet him through his sucking tongue. His work is deep and thorough and I feel panic again, a dark emptiness is where the moonlight has left my lower limbs. I cry and instinctively squirm, trying to pull away from his mouth, to prevent the loss of light, to hoard the gift he has given me.

But he is so much stronger than me. He holds my body tight to his and sinks his teeth into the moonlight-flushed skin of my breast and I cry out in pain. I stop squirming, but dread creeps up along my spine as I feel his light leaving my veins. So empty. But then his teeth release me and his lips are suddenly on mine again, drenching me in moonlight once more. It overflows from my lips, dribbles down my chin, the light dancing down my flesh. I kiss him greedily, longing for the fullness in my veins again. Seconds without it were an eternity.

I kiss him frantically until I am full again. Our kiss breaks and I sigh in relief, and fall slightly forward, further into his arms. His chuckle rocks me and I realize he has been torturing me intentionally, not cruelly as a display of his power over me, but to exhibit the depth of my bond, my longing for him, for both our satisfaction. I giggle into his neck and nuzzle into his hair as he holds me.

He slowly walks his marble fingers up my back, raising goosebumps as they go, causing me to hum into the side of his neck. He reaches my brown locks and winds his fingers up in them and gently pulls back, prying me away from my nest in his arms - presenting my glowing belly to him. I lean back obediently, the night air cradling me. He leans forward with me, releases my hair, and lowers his face to my stomach. I feel his nose trace swirls over my skin, pressing into my tummy with each of my inhales, tracing again with each exhale. He breathes warm air onto the moonlight-star that is centered in my belly button and I feel his tongue dip in. He is breathing more light into me this time, rather than stealing it away. I feel my skin tingle as it floats into me as his tongue laps and suckles my belly button.

More light flows in, filling me. It feels as divine as he is and I lose myself in the sensation. Filling, expanding, every sense alive as the light dances into every cell. When suddenly, I realize that I cannot move. Each and every one of my cells is full - expanded with moonlight. He licks his way up from my belly button, stopping to give gentle attentions to each breast, each trembling nipple. My body practically vibrating in fullness of his light within me. He laps at the pool of light over my heart, makes his way further up to sip from the light at my throat, but so little he takes back - I still cannot move.

He caresses my face, trailing his finger along my jaw, swirls around my chin, up the other side to gently tug my earlobe. Then runs his thumb across my cheek and down over my lips, lingering there. He dips a finger past my lips to caress the tip of my tongue and drags it back out, running my saliva across my other cheek, the wet trail chilling against my skin. Then he leans in as if to kiss me. "Please!" I cry in my mind, as I have no power to move even my lips to beg. I am so full of his light I can hardly stand it - suspended again in his gravity and fully at his pleasure.

His lips barely brush mine, but I can feel his smile playing against the very edges of my skin. I long for him to kiss me, to pull from my veins the excess of light that has pushed me to the edge my capacity - the strange, encompassing, arousing pain. "My little flute." He sighs into my mouth and I breathe him in, still hungry although I cannot take in any more."Would you like me to play you again?"

I know in the deepest reaches of me that being his instrument now will be different than the first time. The first time was destiny. The playing of the music, the bringing to life of his great symphony, the purpose and the focus of the each touch. But now I have consented to be his. For him to play me now, it will not be about the song itself, it will be about his desire. About the wildness of release in the dark of night. His question to me lingers on the night air. He knows well that I cannot speak. But he waits for my consent. It takes every ounce of focus for me to force a soft and delicate hum from my throat - mirroring the final note of his symphony. His lips meet mine for a sweet moment. "Then I will play you again, my little flute."

With a swift movement, he floats down to hover over the pool of light on my mound. This pool of light trembles as my pulse quickens beneath. I have only a few seconds to realize that I am not prepared for what is about to come, that I could never have been prepared for the sensations that would soon burst through my body.

His fingers swirl over the top of my mound and glide downward, whisking over my slit, glistening wet in his glow. My whimper hums in my throat. The pool of light extends just ever-so-slightly above my clit. His lower lip presses the very top of my crease, and I feel his tongue search downward. My body is on fire as he clamps his mouth down, drinking from the moonlight pool, his lower lip massaging my clit as he drinks. He is ravenous, gulping the light from me. But I am so full that his large swallows take but a few drops from my overflowing cup. I cannot move. I can only hum. Whimpering melodies vibrating through my throat as he takes what is his. 

My clit is swollen with light and with lust. It spasms against his lip as he guzzles from me. I long to rock my hips into his face but I still cannot move. The light inside me still overflowing. He drinks and drinks and I hum, staring into the stars who stare back down at my naked form as I float, spread-eagled in his care. 

As he continues I slowly start to feel space - space in my lungs, between my bones and muscles and ligaments. Space for my hum to grow into melodic whimpering. Space to wriggle my fingertips. 

The way his light flows out of me is invigorating. My breath is my own again and I drink in the night air. Sighing delightedly. His arms wrap around my hips and he nuzzles his chin into my wetness as he reclaims his own essence. I reach my hands toward his, but they glide slowly through the air, like trying to swim through honey. I long to entwine my fingers through his.

Space continues to grow inside me. My heartbeat quickens with room inside my chest for it to pump. My fingers finally reach his and he pulls my hands into his grasp on my hips, holding me tightly. Space grows in my spine and I can roll my hips softly, finally able to respond to his tongue and lips. He guides my hips downward slightly, gravity now assisting in the work to let the light flow into his mouth. He purses his lips around my clit and sucks deeply, and I cry out. I have no words - I do not know the name of this god of the night sky. My moon. 

He pulls away, my clit pulling with him until it cannot, and plucks away from his lips. He laps moonlight and my nectar from the swollen lips below. Then buries his face inside me. I moan. His nose rubbing my tender clit, his tongue penetrating me. My pussy parts gladly around his tongue. He forces my hips to a further angle so moonlight pours down to be lapped up along with the juice I have made for him. 

His tongue curls inside me, searching for hidden parts no one else has yet adored. Claiming me with every shove of his tongue. There is enough space between my muscles now. I wrap my thighs around his head, clinging to him, rocking his face into my pussy. I buck and I squirm and I cry wordlessly out into the night. 

His right hand releases from my hip and glides over to my mound where he brushes his hand through the moonlight there and slides upward, across my tummy, between my breasts, to my throat where his fingers find the hidden musical keys there. His tongue still ravaging me, he hums. His voice vibrates up through me, electrifying my sensitive nipples, and our harmonies join. His fingers squeeze and release my throat and our song overwhelms me, I feel the pressure of my impending orgasm build from the depths of my core, winding up inside of me. As the edge rises to meet me I feel his tongue leave my pussy and lick up to my clit where he drinks from me there again, devouring the moonlight as it spills over.

I pierce the night air with a scream of release, my orgasm taking over as his lips massage my spasming clit. His hand on my throat turns the scream into sensuous melody and I cling to his arm, like a life raft as I am tossed at sea. I feel as though flood gates have opened - his light pouring out of me into his throat as he devours me.  In the high of my orgasm, the swirling of light escaping me feels exhilarating, but I realize that I have crossed the threshold from too full, to equilibrium, to loss. And he continues.

I writhe under his urging, still helpless as I ride wave after wave. His light pouring out from me as I cum. I feel the darkness grow, take over, the night sky even seems to dim. I suddenly cannot see. All the light is gone. I am adrift. I don’t even feel his arm around my hips or hand around my throat, where I knew there were a moment ago. My orgasm drains every ounce of his light from me and everything is black. Rapturous as my body releases like it never has before. And torturous as my spirit feels the loss of him and his light. I feel as if time has stopped. My body electrified in ecstasy and eternal damnation. 

And then, with the swiftness of the first light breaching the horizon, his cock thrusts inside of me. Fully sunken into my velvet sheathe, quivering for my recent orgasm. A guttural groan rips through my throat as his alabaster shaft forces into the depths of me, stretching me to fully enter. 

I can feel his arms around me again -wrapped around my lower back, clutching my body towards his thrusting cock. The stars return to the sky. His lips on my chin, my jaw, my ear. Whispering “mine”. My knees pressed upward, allowing his cock to access my deepest places. 

I cling to his shoulders, his muscles rolling as he owns me. Each thrust his claim. Each moan from me the music of his symphony. He had taken all his light back, but he gave me something more. Each thrust a promise. Each sigh my gratitude. Each thrust into me as rapturous and violent as stars bursting in the heavens. His hard cock filling my aching tunnel and sliding from me, only to thrust back in. Ecstasy and despair in quick succession.

He moves a hand to my rolling breasts and twists my nipple – pinching it firmly then twisting it slowly until it is tight. It sends an electric pulse down my body to my clit. “Sing, little flute.” He commands. 

I cum.

The moment the words leave his lips and meet my ear, my orgasm implodes inside of me. I cry out and his song is involuntarily, innately on my tongue. Then he bursts inside of me with a primal groan to shake the stars. The celestial being cums inside of me, his pearly seed coursing into me, lining my pussy with more than his moonlight. This delicious essence. Suddenly, I fill with brilliant light - coursing up from where our writhing bodies are joined. For a few moments I have become the moon as well, light pulsing from my entire body, my hair white as new fallen snow. Pleasure ripples through me. My skin alight. The pools of moonlight he had bestowed upon me are splashing up and overflowing onto our tangled bodies. 

He is looking at me. Eyes full of adoration, satisfaction. He sees what he has created and is pleased with himself, with me, with the universe. And nothing could give me greater joy.

He doesn’t stop his pounding rhythm. The song isn’t over. The final lines pulse inside of me as his cock jerks and shudders to finish filling me. His tongue fills my mouth and dampens my satisfied cry to a tingling whimper. I kiss him back in adoration of what he has bestowed upon me. 

My orgasm begins to subside and the brilliance of the light within me starts to fade. He kisses my neck, my lips. I kiss him back joyously. He smiles. “You are glad, are you not? To have chosen to be mine, little flute?”

His cock is still inside me, filling me, making me whole. His light is flickering through my veins and dancing across my skin. His song is etched on my tongue, written in my nerves, bubbling up in my throat. 

“I am more than glad.” I whisper. I curl my fingers into one of his silvery locks. “I am…” I don’t have words. “I am yours.” I say simply and gaze into his grey eyes. He kisses me again, so gently, his lips like a shadow cast over mine. 

He pulls his shaft from my warm sheathe and steps down onto the grass. He takes my hands to help me down as well. I notice the light is continuing to fade from my skin. Even the pools of moonlight he placed on me look less like silver pools of water and more like patches of glowing snow.

I run my hands over my breasts and belly, my throat, and gently over my sensitive mound. I look back into his face, anxiously. “Do not fret. Close your eyes. Listen.” I obey. I hear my own heartbeat. His melody has found its way in. The rush of blood in my veins feels milky-white as moonlight. The circles along my skin hum. 

The visible moonlight has faded from me, gone back to its master. But he has marked me. Woven his light into the makeup of my very flesh. It cannot be unbound. 

The external light fades, but I feel it inside me anyway. The pools of light on my flesh are now like white starburst tattoos on my already pale skin, but certainly still visible to the eye. He runs his hands down their line, caressing my skin. The paleness of dawn seeping into the dark sky. I startle, realizing the entire night has passed. 

His hand sweeps a caress up my jaw, cups my cheek. I lean into his palm. The fingers of his other hand reach up and his thumb pulls across my bottom lip. “I will return to you, my little flute.” He leans in and draws a long kiss from my lips. The kiss slowly breaks and he whispers into my ear, his deep voice rumbling and tickling me. “Mine.”

The sun slips up over the horizon, and he is gone. Daylight floods my garden and I am all alone. Naked except for a cloak of the light of dawn. I look to the sky. Birds start to sing their greeting to the day. Mourning doves coo, echoing the loss I feel.

I suddenly realize that I am chilled. Goosebumps prickling and firm nipples from the cold morning dew settling on my skin. I look down at my body, glistening in the morning light. The starbursts on my skin, faint, but unmistakable. I trace them each with my fingers. And I feel the faintest pull from their centers. My memory flashes to the moments when the chains of light spun from me and rushed toward the heavens to bind me to his throne. “Not a dream,” I whisper to the mourning doves. They sigh with me.

I collect my satin robe from the step and wrap it around me. Hesitant to go inside. To move on with my morning after the incomprehensible events of the hours before that ravaged my mind, body, and spirit. I slip my finger down to my pussy, still wet, and dip a finger inside. Reaching deeply. I pull my finger out and raise to to my lips. I taste him. A sigh heaves through my chest. I suck my finger clean. 

I look up at the sky. A smile plays across my lips. A hum rises up in my throat - his song. And I step back inside.