Master
Apprentice  Archive
D'shinn
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The shimmering frozen light of the winter sun. That's him.
Him with his hair combed neatly and braided, an intricate pattern of eight strands twisting around each other at the back of his head, woven into a shimmering deep brown plane, shot through with the first strands of wintry silver. All that rich thickness gathered into two wide plaits winding around his forehead like a crown, just above the thin silver circlet beaten and scraped to resemble the flowers that his hoar-frost breath paints on the windows of my little room.
His beard is long, shimmering with more grey than his hair, twined into long strands like icicles framing his pale lips, almost purple with the cold, a cool serene smile. He is snowy beauty incarnate wrapped in opaque white tunics and high light grey boots, a cloak of pale silk flowing off his broad shoulders. His belt buckle is a crystal of pure ice, and I marvel at times like these how such coldness can reside next to such heat.
He freezes me, renders me completely motionless, trapped in an embrace of cool shimmering beauty. I fall headlong into the fresh snow, to be near him.
D'shinn, my god of snow and ice.
The angry lashing roar of the rainstorm. That's him.
Him with dark grey fire in his eyes, hair soaked and straggly, whipped about his face by his own frenzy, catching in his beard that shines with droplets of water trapped in it. His mouth is open in a roar, and thunder leaps off his tongue like violent caresses. I adore the sight of his muscles and tendons stretched taut with the effort to restrain himself, to shoot his spears and sabrecuts of lightning at the trees around me, not at me as I cower on the heath, rain lashing my naked back, drumming on my skin, like cool wet fingertips.
He gets harsh sometimes, and I long for the grip of his huge crushing hands on me, bruising me as purple as the rain clouds that shroud him from the other mortals. To my eye, he wears them, the dark heavy grey like a torn sarong of dull leather whipping about his hips, exposing the long lines of his perfect thighs, the columns he stands on, dealing out his rage to the small world below. I long to wrap my legs around those thighs and rub against him like an animal crazy with the nearness of his god.
He ravishes me, beats me into boneless submission, soaks me and fills my ears with thunder and my cock with need. When his rage abates and I rise again, I am adorned with the pearls of his rain and my own seed.
D'shinn, my god of rain and storm.
The stifling moist heat of midsummer evenings. That's him.
That's him with errant petals in his hair, a lopsided garland of vines on his head, the heavy brown strands matted with sweat and the scent of the flowers and fruits and the wine mingling with his own. His lips all red and moist, almost dripping with the wine and honey he's feasted on, feasted with us lesser mortals. Glistening, lips shining with the honey and eyes glassy with the intoxicating wine, moving in a slow sinuous dance, sweat running down his smooth chest and back and disappearing in the thin wrap of cloth around his hips.
It looks grey in the slanting light of the evening sun, but when he comes closer to the fire the direct light exposes its sheer sensuous depth. A red so deep it verges on the black, shimmering velvet that eats light. Thin as rose petals and just as soft, it clings to him as he dances, inviting my reverent touch. I know if I do I will be undone, torn apart by the sheer pleasure of it, intoxicated and filled with the presence of my god.
He feeds me with the honey of his lips and the sweet salt of his sweat. He eats me whole, cooking me to tender perfection in the heat of his body.
D'shinn, my god of heat and harvest.
The gentle touch of the warm wind on my bare skin. That's him.
That's him with long strands of deep gold in his hair, mirroring the rich silver, fanning out on the breeze like a trailing crown, like rays of the sun radiating from his face. Eyes the colour of the summer sky, golden lips framed by a line-thin silver beard. He opens his hands, and the wind emanates from every pore of his skin, from his outstretched palms, his heaving chest and his mouth, blowing gently. Blowing kisses to my heated skin as I sit on the beach soaking up the breeze.
His hair is all he wears, and it reaches down to his deep bronze nipples, so perfect I want to kiss and suckle them until I reach the end of my short mortal life span and die, to be one with him in the Elysian Fields. To be wrapped up in the warm light embrace of these strong arms and press my skin against his, so smooth and gilded with the sunlight. To let my incredulous hands trail down his stomach to the nest of cloud-white hairs and caress the generous sky-blue hardness that has lured me ever since I first felt his touch on my skin. Would we unleash a storm?
Or would he just sweep me up in his arms and buoy me up and bear me away, soaring through the sun-kissed sky, and me wrapped in the sensuous warm embrace of his arms and the myriad fingers of the wind stroking me all over, heating with the rush of our flight and rubbing me wild until I beg for more? Would he then enter me, burying himself deep in me and blowing me apart with the sheer pleasure of the joining? Would he kiss my breath away and replace it with his, slow warm wind going in and out until I am a part of him, a part of D'shinn, my god of wind and wantonness?
Would that he did. Sighing deeply, I raise my eyes to the sky and... fly.
---The End---