Two Blue Wings

Photo taken on a visit to Museum of Mobile in Alabama Researching “The Unicorn Rider”: Book I | Marianne Goddess of Liberty…

3rd Day – Wet – 1^st draft – The Unicorn Rider: Virgins, Unicorns & The Dead…

(WARNING SENSUAL MATERIAL… first part of this chapter…)…

Author Note: Finding out a bit more about Candice and her friend Mags. Each person should anticipate finding their purpose, arising from what they care about and their passions. I know this flies in the face of presently held convention and society influenced filters. No, a person’s purpose does not hang upon how much they can make or how popular they are. Unless that is what that particular person wants to do. It is the finding of our place, our purpose in life, not the knowing of our place that matters. Life will be survive with more enjoyment and active interaction if passions and what makes us tick are the focus. From our experiences with Candice we are finding something different about her. That she is an intelligent, kind and compassionate person… but something is different. There is something waiting to be exposed in her life, which will pull all of what she cares about into a purpose. We also find that self exploration is not lost on Candice…

 

Candice made her way up the dark old stairs with a white candle she had lit. She felt her way into the small bathroom with the coolness of the white tile floor greeting her now bare feet.

The iron tub was tall on its lion claw feet. The glass ball under each four paws glistened in the candle light. Candice with white dressing robe wrapped tight around her body leaned over to the spiked porcelain tub knobs and turned them slowly to adjust the flow of water streaming out of the short silver spout. Making a towel ready near by on a white paint chipped wooden bench and sitting the candle on the near by window sill Candice lifted her leg high and straddled the edge of the tub as was her custom. The cold edge grinding smoothly into her labial folds granting her a deeply pleasurable sensation.

Sliding into the water up to her narrow shoulders Candice shut her eyes and felt the warm water grasp her pink erect nippled breasts with a focus of this sensation reverberating down to her twat. She shut everything else out. Her racing thoughts slowed, then were washed away into the swirl of warm water.

There was a wave of sensation passing over her as she laid there. Her hands seemed to float free in the water as she felt drowsy and somehow lighter. Her fingers came to land upon her upper abdomen that sloped gently downward and then arose upon her lightly fussed mound.

These fingers seemed to her to act independently of herself as she lay in semi-consciousness. Long fingers nimbly separating folds of flesh as the labial layers yielded both a now erect clitoris and the vaginal opening it guards. Gentle careless stroking overtime gives way to more labored finger motions that are now passing the erect heated clitoris point and penetrating deeper into the opening, than was allowed before.

Candice now with her attention drawn to the new promising sensations finds her body more erect and her back arched with anticipation of each penetration by the fingers of her free hand. Her neck now hooked over the edge of the gentle curve of the tub; with the arched tilting back of her head anchored her floating body firmly. Deeper and deeper she hopes to place each stroke as she holds hostage with her other hand the now quivering erect clit.

One finger gives way to three plunging deeper with each thrust with focused effects pulsating from the arch of the small of her back moving deep into the vaginal opening with each gliding force. She nears a peak and it escapes her. She fucks herself deeper with her three fingers and rubs the firm clit she now commands with her other hand.

Finally arising from the back of her buttocks is a warm sensation demanding to be answered by the grasping of the twat under her hand. Again her body tightens, her back arches and she attempts to ride the clit with her slender hand as she fucks deeply the opening.

Fluttering light behind her closed eye lids, throbbing spasms move through her vagina in answer to her plunging fingers. The clit now almost visible by her eye as she bends forward her neck arched staring down into the clear warm waters. Candice feels each clamping down of her twat on her penetrating fingers and feels their effort relieving the longing pain in the bottom of her ass.

Candice’s hands drop loosely beside her as the fatigue and the orgasm is spent from her body into the warm water that flows in waves all about her.

Finding herself sitting up-right in the deep water she recovers her self. With the last bit of energy she has she slides up out of the tub and over the side with water clinging to her skin. Candice reaches deep into the tub with nipples and twat fully exposed to the cool surrounding air and pulls the plug. With the tub draining she grasps the flickering candle; with robe wrapped tight to preserve her warmth and to dry her wet skin; she moves on to her sleep.

Candice with the small candle in hand clutched her white robe about herself as she made her way up the narrow dark hallway. The bare wooden floors creaked under each of her foot falls. She made a game of stepping gently as to not make any sound though she was the only person there to hear any of her foot steps.

She was about to arrive at her bedroom door, when the candle flickered with a chilly breeze almost extinguishing the light. Candice froze a moment and guarded the flame with the palm of her hand. Clutching her robe it fell open exposing her pale stomach and legs to the cool breeze. This vague sensation delighted her and made her long for the warmth of her bed and smooth sheets.

The flame of the candle became steady and erect once more with the light falling upon the doorknob of the door, Candice opened the door slowly. Changing hands she fumbled to control the two thick front folds of her robe clutching them in a grip of one hand over her warming mound exposing her small firm breasts. Her focus was though on getting quickly under the embrace of the cold sheets and quilts of her canopy bed.

She sat the candle in its chamberstick down on the mirrored dressing table. The old silvered mirror reflected the light outward into the dark room casting long shadows across the old oriental rug and wooden floor. Grasping the quilts Candice raised each one by its corner and pulled back in a corner fold fashion until she was down to the white bottom sheet. She turned toward the candle and began to slip off her heavy robe that was now moist with water from off her body after the warm bath. She bent to lay out the robe on a near by wooden chair and caught a glimpse of her self in the mirror. She was pale and ghost like in the mirror, but each breast was defined as to smooth curve with standing nipple. Her legs were separated and her buttocks with her thighs firm and white. The light hair of her twat was barely visible and the labial folds appear moist and pale shadowy pink. She smile to herself as she took the moment to gaze, think and feel all the heightened sensations around her. Turning on her heel she landed her rounded buttocks on the bed side. The sheets were cold as they enfolded her legs then stomach and came over her breasts. The nipples even more sensitive to the embrace of the heavy pressure of the bedding that now rested upon her body. She shivered and pulled her hands close to her body. One hand rested across her left breast cupping the firm erect nipple between the index finger and thumb. The left hand pulled close to her mound cupping it in a protective move to this cold sensitive area with her ring finger pressing into the wet labial folds. Candice closed her eyes to take all this in as she felt sleep grip her mind and make heavy her eyes.

She was as if entering a dark tunnel toward sleep, when she was brought back to wakefulness with a distant urgent pounding sound a far off.

Candice moved restlessly in bed at the sound, her legs unable to free themselves from the heavy bedding wrapped tightly around her warm body. Then she pushed her self up on her elbows her eyes full of sleep. She listened and heard the sound again coming from down stairs. As she awoke more she realized it was the front door and someone wanted to come in.

She slid out from under the quilts to preserve their warmth and stood nude shivering on the rug beside the bed. She reached in a grabbing motion for her heavy and still moist robe and pulled it on in one thrust of her arm. She pulled tight the sash around her waist and grasped the collar pulling upward off her breasts up around to her neck. The candle must have died out from a puff of wind she thought, leaving it very dark. She also heard the gentle patter of rain on the near by window sill. Cold and rainy she thought and someone at the door.

Being a very organized sort Candice quickly found her match box in a bedside tin and struck a match to light her way to the candle and its stand. She lit the candle and pushed her index finger through the curve of the holder to steady the candle as she made her way to the door on bare quick feet.

Down the smooth hardwood steps on the curving stairway to the small room that held the front door and its brass mail slot. Much colder was the air down here Candice thought.

The person on the other side of the door was now knocking the brass knocker in a limited slower rhythm as if to show that the whole process had worn upon them and their energy. Candice called out, “Hello, who is it”?

Mags called out, “Its me and I am having problems”. Candice pulled back the lock bolt and grasped the heavy brass lever on the door. Mags as in her accustomed way pushed the door as she heard the sound of the lock’s release. Candice peered out into the darkness with her hand shielding the candle’s light from the wind passing through the opening, while Mags slipped around the corner of the door.

As Mags pushed passed the door she related how the roof over part of her house had began to leak profusely and more so than a few leaks this time in this cold rain. One leak was over where her bed was and how she had to push her now wet bed to the side of the room. Mags came to see if the same were happening to Candice.

Candice saw the shivering of her friend and her wet clothing in the small light that the candle would allow. Directing her friend up stairs to the bathroom Candice began to run warm water into the deep white enamel metal tub that appeared standing at some height above the lion paw feet in the candle light. Candice left Mags to undress and got her the dark blue velvet robe that hung extra on the back of her bedroom door. She left the candle for Mags on a tall wooden stool in the bathroom, since Candice could feel her way the short distance to bedroom and back.

Mags was in the water and the sounds of her shivering had stopped. “Mags once you are done wrap up in the robe that is on the stool near the sink and come on into bed. I will have the left side open for you, I have on the bed now my heavy quilts for these chilly nights.”

Candice left Mags to soak in the warmth of the waters. It was now that Candice had wished she had placed electricity in the old house, but was glad she had warm water instead from propane she had installed for now. Her roof was sound as far as she knew, though the rain had picked up its patter on the windows as she passed under the edge of the sheets and quilts to the warm spot she had left earlier.

Mags let drop to the floor the moist velvet robe as she hopped into bed throwing over herself the heavy fold of bedding. She wiggled into position with her head deep in the pillow and the weight of the quilts evenly distributed over her slender nude frame.

“Candice when are you going to San Francisco?” Mags said, slightly turning her head on the fluffy pillow towards the direction of Candice. “I am not exactly sure why you are going right now with all the things you have going on around here. You just moved into your house and started a mail drop business. Why now?”

“I am working on an idea for my paper,” Candice said. “Mags have you really thought about what is real and what is not real? What I mean is things are only real if people have actually seen or experienced them, right? Myths and legends fall in that area between belief and reality for most people. If you ask someone if they have seen a ghost they would say no, but if you asked them if they believed in ghosts these same people would go on and on about why they know ghosts are real.”

“I have never seen a ghost,” Mags whispered, “but I do know they are there.”

“But how do you know Mags?” Candice said, turning over on her left side.

Mags was silent for a moment thinking. “I know ghosts are real because that is the only way I can deal with the deaths of my mother and grandmother. I feel they are watching over me. I feel them near when I am sad and it makes things better for me.”

Candice turned on to her back shifting the quilts to match the new position.

“I am going to San Francisco because Yvette Wong one of the people in my on-line Bestiarum vocablulum class wants to show me something. I and Yvette have been in a couple of classes together so far in my major. She is majoring in Chinese Ancient Literature, which has a few similar courses as does my major. I also know a couple of other people from the required discussion boards, who have been very helpful in my literature review, that I might go see in the near future. Yvette told me that she could not fully explain about the materials to me, that I would be ‘amazed’ in person. Yvette sent a few cell phone snaps, but the lighting was not good enough to make the manuscripts show up. She has also found a few books in her University archives and told me she has through a family contact access to some ancient scrolls and art work in China Town.” Candice fell silent not sure if Mags was listening or dozing off.

Mags piped up when she saw an opening in Candice’s excited chatter. “I didn’t know Chinese legends had anything on what you want to know about unicorns? I am sure there is beaucoup information on dragons. They probably have stories about warrior horses. And maybe about creatures with horns, but not unicorns. Unicorns don’t sound like a Chinese thing.”

Candice was up on her elbows and moving the quilts up around her neck. “Mags Chinese myth is full of unicorns! Some dragons are unicorns in Chinese legend. Western myth has unicorns stylized as horses with horns protruding from there forehead, but actually it was the Romans who documented that these creatures had the head of a deer with the body of a horse, feet of an elephant with a single white horn measuring only 2 inches rooted in the center of the brow of the unicorn. The only person able to commune with this creature were virgins. There was a myth about the dealings of unicorns with virgins and hunters, which the ancient religious authorities banned because these stories pointed out apparent ambiguities in their teachings. In Chinese legend the unicorn was called a Qilin who brandished either a single horn or a pair of antlers. They appeared as dragons with the body shape of a horse, deer or ox with golden flesh. They could change to a rainbow of colors depending upon the occasion. Qilin were associated with the birth of emperors or with events leading to prosperity. So there is a whole lot I need to find out during my trip to see Yvette about how all of these ‘sightings’ of unicorns fit together.”

“Sounds like you found your passion,” Mags said as she turned over toward her left side. “Wish my purpose in life would fall on top of my head like it did you.”

“Mags you do have a purpose in life even if you are not aware of it right now,” Candice said reassuringly, though she did not know why she was so sure of her hope for Mags.

“Well maybe when I declare a major in school I will know by then what burning question needs to be answered like you do,” Mags said in a sleepy voice.

Candice knew she had lost Mags to slumber upon hearing her even rhythmic breathing coming from the far side of the bed. Candice closed her own tired eyes with the last sounds she heard being the pounding of the rain way over her head on the old clay tile shingled roof.

 

Next Chapter …

4th Day – Going to Travel… The Unicorn Rider: Book I…

 

Previous Chapter…

2nd Day – Cool Breeze… The Unicorn Rider: Book I…

 

Table of Contents | The Unicorn Rider: Book I | Virgins, Unicorns & The Dead