I originally took the image below to share on Twitter, as I sometimes do I fiddled about with edits and when I got the image below I decided to hold onto it for February PhotoFest 2019. The longer I looked at it the more I began to see and the story I’m sharing today came into being as well.
Strange things happen when you believe in magic. You can bend and break the lines between reality and imagination and those who are subject to your skills are never quite sure whether to believe their eyes or not.
When I went to bed with Layla she moved against me in ways I could never have dreamed of. My body ignited with a passion I had long since forgotten and when her fingers pushed inside me and her tongue flickered against my lips, inviting me to open my mouth, kissing me with a slow sensuality that didn’t match the deep fucking of her fingers. In those moments she was pure magic and I would have believed her capable of anything.
When we woke the next morning we could hear the birds chirping outside and she showed a childlike joy for their song. Coming alive with her love of all our feathered friends. Giggling as I showed her the knickers I’d pulled on on the night, also covered with winged beauties.
Her fingers caressed the fabric of my underwear and I longed to fall under her spell again, as I writhed and gasped under her touch, it was my turn to do magic though, and I would, right after I’d placed my hands against her shapely thighs and nestled my mouth and tongue against her delectable cunt.
She smeared my face in her juices as she bucked against my face, pulling my head in closer, stifling my breathing as she encouraged me to fuck her hard with my mouth. I licked, sucked, nibbled and probed every inch of her until she cried out like an animal, howling into the morning air, her body sweaty and mind blank as she blinked herself back to reality, breathing rapidly, gazing into my eyes and gripping my hands as she composed herself.
I wriggled back up the bed to lay beside her, and without thinking asked her if she’d like to see another neat trick. She laughed and expressed the opinion that it would have to be more than a neat trick to knock the socks of my last achievement. With her words still hanging in the air I moved my wrist, and flicked my fingers, a motion that I mastered long ago, in what feels like another lifetime, and in response the birds, small and feathered fluttered from my knickers, leaving them plain as their previous adornments stretch their wings around the bedroom.
Layla stares wide-eyed and I panic as I await her response.
‘Are they real? Can I keep them.’
‘Please tell me how.’
‘They’re magic, they exist if you believe in …’
‘Oh I do! I really, really do. I love them so much.’
And though she never let me finish my sentence, ‘they exist if you believe … in me’, those birds didn’t cease to exist until Layla herself left this earth and we had, by then, loved each other for the most perfect of lifetimes.
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