By Gala
Date: 22 July 2000
Cherion's Song
She was born to a noble house of Thebes,
her eyes pale--unseeing,
but her mothers skill of spinning
softened the master's heart
and she was spared exposure
despite her flaw.
The gods blessed her---
giving her wits as quick as her fingers,
a cloud of chestnut hair
and a voice that charmed---
but despite a quiet sort of beauty,
it was counted unlucky
to seduce such a one---
and though the eyes followed her form,
she was left to her own
One morning she rose,
summer thick in the air,
a delicious breeze calling to her -- the spinning might wait -- night and day were as one to her,
and she stole away
feeling the touch of the sun
on her milky pale flesh,
warming.....wandering beyond the usual paths
to a silent forest glade,
her footfalls muffled
by pine and cedar.
And then she heard the first strains----
a lyre, and voice
matched, powerful...male?
But sweet----beguiling ... and her feet followed the sound,
her lips falling into a smile
unlike any she had known.
The sun warmed her gently,
and the breeze kissed through the muslin
of her simple gown -- she could smell the fruits
going to ripe,
the flowers and herbs
and the scent of cedar
touching the air----
and the song -- never one so sweet
where each line
answered a question to her soul
and the voice that carried them
was something she had craved
but never known the name of.
And then she was there-----
a glade -- half hidden,
where the birds joined the singer
in counter song ... and she stood silently
praying the music
would never end.
The singer had not noticed her coming---
a warrior who had sailed with Jason,
schooled Hercules
and known much of mortal life
though he was not quite mortal himself.
His kind was passing to their end,
and the sight of a noble centaur
once greeted with respect and reverence,
was now at best a curiosity.
He had kept to himself,
using the lyre
to remember days when he counted as a hero,
when he had known the love
of mortal women
who had taken him as a lover
more for the quality of his soul
then the novelty
of half man, half beast.
And then he saw her---------
waited for the shriek or scream,
thinking it a pity--------
this one was fair,
and sweetly ripe
and oh--the scent of her------
not perfumes or oils
but bees wax, and honey
and the luscious savor
of all that made her woman
his nostrils flaring
as he drank in her beauty.
She was drugged by the song----
and something else.
This was a man -- but she could sense something else,
something musky, and sweet
that made her breath deep
and touched her
in places she suddenly knew.
She felt a spill from her thighs------
and colored with shame -- she was no wanton,
no toy for any man's taking
and yet..........
This was a wild new hunger
born between innocent thighs
ravening
pulsing
and insistent.
Her breasts grew heavy
warm
hot
and even the cloth
was too great a burden
across tiny nipples
suddenly primed for a touch.
Blind women cannot run -- not even from themselves,
and when he rose to his legs,
and drew closer
she caught her breath
in anguish--
longing--
tormented by the nameless longing
that grew within her....
what manner of man was this?
What manner indeed.
Tiny stars of waxy white jasmine
bloomed under foot,
and as he drew near,
his hooves crushed
the sun warmed petals
spilling the scent into the air
and flooding them both.
He stopped, regarding her
studying her features-------
seeing at once that her eyes
were sightless....
perhaps it would not matter then---
perhaps there would not be the fear,
the horror some expressed---
but the rational thought
was swept away
again---the smell of her
basic
beautiful---
and untouched.
There was no denying that----
no mortal had ever handled
stroked
caressed this woman---
and he wondered in silent amazement
who was really blind------
she---
or those who had missed
the stunning promise
the sensual vow
as her hair spilled down her back,
and pales eyes threatened
to spill a tear...
She reached her hand out,
sensing his nearness
wishing to weep for once
that her eyes could not see
who he was,
and when she touched the broad well muscled chest,
she sighed......
scars--------a warrior?
and hairs tickled the palm
she drew up to powerful shoulders
and corded forearms
then rested a moment
her mind building a picture.
He almost groaned
at the pleasure of her innocent touch----
how long had it been,
he wondered
but there could be no deception-------
He could not deceive her into an embrace,
unknowing what he was, truly.
He caught her hand
turned up the palm gently
and savored the skin
with a full lipped kiss,
his tongue rasping softly
as he felt the shudder of pleasure
that shot through her...
Almost grimly,
he drew the hand to place on his belly
where the man's body ended
and tapered in the powerful flanks
of a stallion,
steeling his soul for her rejection---------
But the hand stroked this new texture softly,
fascinated fingers
running from skin to pelt
and back
and a soft glowing smile
lit her face
as she breathed the word,
"Centaur."
Not a curse or a slur---
just calm acceptence-----
perhaps even a touch of awe.
And he needed no more,
swept her into his broad embrace
and crushed her soft lips beneath his own
capturing her tongue
and longing for the sweetness of her mouth---
cloves.......
honey.......
a faint taste of apple----
and life..
He wanted to lose himself in her taste,
but if he was to be kind,
a gentle lover to this woman child
he had to prepare her---
his portions were not those of legends---
but more ample
than a woman untried might welcome.
He drew her close,
kissed her eyes,
and gently loosed the gown....
and drank in her lovely skin,
the soft mauve of her nipples
the curve of her hip.
the soft slope of buttocks,
and the hair growing lush
at the apex of her thighs-----
and oh the scent of her
was driving him to ungentle distraction.
She stood as still as marble...
but warm---
amazed by the flood of sensation,
dazzled that this had come to her---
no mere lover--------
but a centaur?
And she beat back the flash of fear---
she had heard the horses mating in the spring,
heard the scream of unbreached fillies
when they were first mounted....
and yet---
oh......something flowed from her core
sweet
rich
thick...
As her gown puddled around her feet,
she fought the urge
to cover her breasts
full despite the smallish nipples
she would not scorn the god gift
by acting a child
and even as her cheeks flushed
she stood proudly,
feeling his eyes touch her,
and she reached out with both hands
and began to caress his skin---
not searching this time,
but with purpose,
He kissed her again---
and then savored her neck,
long and slim and white
burying his fingers
in her undressed hair
and licking softly down,
between her breasts,
taking a moment
to capture the nipples
between teeth and lips
as she pulled his head closer...
and moaned softly.
He felt himself harden--------
felt the flesh pull from the sheath
and oh---he longed to take her
to plunge into that sweet core
but not yet--------
she was not ready....
and even as he traced soft circles
across her belly,
tracing fingers down,
he slipped one finger
betwixt her thighs
gently parted them,
and felt the source,
a wellspring of desire
sticky sweet,
and oh, juicy yes...
wet.....
and softly compliant.............
as she tensed in his arms,
then relaxed again.
A second finger,
and yes...there--------
the maidenhead resisting,
even as the thighs yielded
and he looked in her eyes---
seeking refusal---rejection...
and instead, she reached out her own hand,
trailed down the smooth flanks,
and closed over the hardness
with a tiny gasp...
pleasure----------
touch,
pressure...
he fought against the urge to rear up,
stallion proud---
but he could feel the obstruction---
knew that such pleasure
would be purchased by pain,
and reached between the petal folds
to caress the tiny bit of flesh
that caused her to arch and cry
for sheer bliss....
she steadied herself,
opened herself wider to his touch,
biting one soft lip with an eloquent moan...
and he bent again to her breast
teasing, tasting---
and as he felt her begin to crest---
carried by sensation
he plunge three fingers deep inside her--------
felt the barrier collapse,
and heard her small bitter sweet cry.
She swayed against him,
dazed---
she had reached the kicking off place,
known a sweet short flight
and kissed softly at his face.
And now it was time----
the last preperations---
he swept her up,
and carried her closer to the stream,
laying her down gently
to the sweet moss,
and kneeling before her
as she lay in the warmth of the sun,
felt it lavish her skin,
and sighed .
No nymph------just a lovely mortal
utterly at ease---
unaware of her beauty----
and ah-------the sweet smell of her.
With gentle hands
he pushed apart the thighs
and she laid back,
drowsy-------curious---
and utterly beguiling.
He moved in close,
breathing deep of the musky scent,
half mad with the desire to possess
and bent in to drink deep,
tasting the ocean,
finding the tender spot
where her maidenhead had surrendered,
and lapping softly
to soothe the flesh,
she purred deep in her throat---
the wetness coming again,
her thighs wide spread,
lush------
open......
With reverence,
he raised her up,
turned her to the stream,
and guided her hips----
she was stunned-------
but yes, willing---
and she turned her face up to the sun,
to feel the rays on her face,
even as the spot between her thighs
grew abruptly hot,
and she whimpered------
her need too great for words.
He had lusted for women,
been driven half mad with heat---
but never had he known
such tenderness for one---
more because her spirit had accepted him,
than because her eyes had died....
His hardness was iron---
his loins molten hot---
and he gently opened her,
placing himself against her,
sweat pouring form his brow,
fighting----
fighting---
fighting--
and she covered him
hot soft wax
molding to him,
as he slowly filled her.
She gasped---
rolling her hips suddenly---
and when it seemed he could venture no further,
she opened yet again,
yielding
searing sweetness
possession------
possessed.
The birds fell silent------
the only sound was their breathing,
hers shallow------
his imperitive, deep,
wet---
soft
hard
pulsing
and she raced past the moment
his fingers had taken her to,
felt as if she had grown wings
and leapt beyond the earth
as he suddenly
became the stallion----
rearing,
roaring------
complete..
And in that glade
where a woman touched immortality
and taught a demi-god his humanity
the birds fall still to this day-----
for one moment each afternoon
and in that silence
you can hear the centaur's song,
his lovers's laughter----
and the moment
the lovers joined
in flesh
in spirit
in love...........
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