Legend

Only then did I open my eyes, looking around Zhuri's head. The couple had once again changed positions upon the altar, with the woman laying on her back and the man kneeling between her spread legs, his body bent downward and his face unmistakably pressed against her womanhood. Briefly, I remembered the many times the woman standing before me had done the very same thing to me, driving me carnally insane as she wove her physical expertise with her magical prowess to bring me to the edge of exquisite bliss and holding me there, teetering on the edge of its abyss, before finally allowing me to plunge fitfully, my voice straining the sound barrier which allowed us such moments of intimacy amidst the habitats of the coven.

Reluctantly, I stepped away from her, and after giving her a small nod of acknowledgement, I slowly made my way around the circle of hard-packed dirt to my former position, where I again lifted my voice to the ongoing chant. Zhuri and I chanted together for quite some time as the couple held hands, the bonding power growing as it moved between them. Their blood marred their bodies and the altar itself, but they each seemed oblivious to its presence, focused solely upon each other and the pleasure they were each receiving and selflessly giving in turn.

Zhuri's voice faded and then disappeared from the chant. To my amazement, the dome was not even close to crumbling upon itself, its excellent form most likely being buoyed by the impressive strength of the love of the couple at the dome's center. That allowed me to focus less on maintaining the dome and more on the woman who was finally about to be penetrated by the man laying prone between her spread knees.

The intensity of their gaze threatened to create flames entirely unrelated to those which surrounded the altar. Even as the woman sank down on the man's full arousal, even as she shuddered visibly at the initial penetration, even as they both moaned aloud, their gaze never wavered - if anything, the connection between their eyes intensified, and that inspired me to chant a little louder.

She was full with him, his entire length embedded within her body. Bracing his elbows upon the altar's surface, he supported her as she held his hands firmly, allowing her to use his hands for leverage as she began to slowly rise and fall, her head thrown back as they moaned together. My own sex practically quivered sympathetically, wishing that it could also be filled - this time by a man who truly loved me, not a man intent of taking his pleasure from any vulnerable woman in the immediate area.

The pace she set was not slow, but it was definitely not fast. It was evident that the couple was not interested in a fast, hard, primal copulation - which was not surprising, given the type of ceremony in which they were the featured participants. If anything, the man and woman upon the stone altar seemed to be more interested in making a wonderful memory to sustain them both for the rest of their lives and beyond.

Certainly, making love atop a stone altar while surrounded by orange-yellow and pink flames within a smoke-lined dome with a constant chant maintaining the flow of magical power would be quite a memory. From the perspective of an "outsider," the many times I had given couples this opportunity had become wonderful memories for me... and I had yet to experience the ceremony from the place of honor upon the beautiful altar.

Her lips were parted, her eyes closed, her hair cascading down her back as her face was tilted toward the star-filled sky. His arms remained stiff, even though his elbows must have been aching a bit due to the chiseled stone beneath him, maintaining her ability to use his hands for leverage, her thighs flexing with practiced ease, her breasts bouncing enticingly and her hair moving just as mesmerizingly against her back. The sounds which rose from deep within her heart were intended solely for him, but she apparently did not mind that there were two complete strangers nearby who could hear the evidence of her growing pleasure.

With the initial penetration having already taken place, the man was much quieter. I had noticed that most of the men tended to be quiet - a man had previously confessed to me that he tried to never make a sound so that he could more fully enjoy the little whimpers and squeals his wife would make whenever she gave her body to him for their mutual gratification - and I was also tempted to terminate the chant and lapse into silence just so that I could better hear the woman's moans and gasps.

Almost as if on cue, from the opposite side of the outer circle, my companion's voice rejoined the chant. A few moments later, my voice faded, and then I was silent, able to truly focus on the vocalizations of the young woman riding the man she loved.

Her voice was not particularly loud, but as she changed from moving vertically to rocking back and forth while her lover impaled her intimately, I had no problem hearing her above the sounds produced by the flames. Except for my companion's continuing chant, hers was the only voice I could hear, even when the prone man's mouth was stretched wide. I had heard a few traveling bards sing about how a woman would sing her pleasure, and given the quality of this woman's voice as she rocked her way toward the bliss she sought, I would not have been surprised if someone were to tell me that she was indeed gifted with song.

The man's voice suddenly reached my ears. A low groan, nearly an extended grunt, the intense sound bespoke of his pleasure approaching the point of no return. His hips were rising as much as possible under the weight of his rocking lover, and she clearly knew him well enough to immediately recognize that, despite her own quest for ecstasy, she needed to stop, at least for the moment. She stilled herself, and he grunted again - I guessed that she was squeezing him, caressing him with her precious sex, pulsing around him as she attempted to quell her own pleasure so that their lovemaking could continue deeper into the pristine night.

Again, I wanted to touch myself. I wanted to feel something inside me. Not just one or two fingers, not a long narrow rock chiseled into the form of an erect phallus and honed for smoothness, and certainly not an appendage of a man who cared naught for me and barely even recognized my humanity. I was incredibly wet, my nipples hard and pressing directly against the inside of the robe. Simply breathing was enough to subtly rub my hardened nipples against the robe, and that was more than adequate to send flashes of need straight down my ribs, down my stomach, past my hips, to make my clitoris pulse.

The lovers' connection temporarily ended: No longer did they hold their bloody hands, and no longer was he embedded within her. I could feel the power they had been generating reach a plateau, but it remained within the dome, swirling around them, not even attempting to escape through the narrow opening high above the altar.

That was when I knew for certain that this couple was special. There was something unique about the lovers at the center of the ceremony. Never before had I witnessed nor even heard of a non-magical couple generating power through this ceremony and the power never even attempting to flee through the small opening at the top of the dome or at least press against the semi-transparent smoke-created walls.

Zhuri apparently recognized it as well, for her chant uncharacteristically faltered. I quickly rejoined the chant, my voice supporting hers and reestablishing the rhythm. Fortunately, I had acted quickly enough, for the power within the smoky dome had neither lessened for begun to escape. It also did not appear that the lovers had noticed any change in the power - but given how intensely they were kissing again, that was really not a surprise.

There was an old legend amongst the mages, one far older than the binding ceremony itself. It foretold of a couple, seemingly without magical abilities, who could bring peace to the world with their love. Supposedly because of that legend, the binding ceremony had been crafted, primarily as a way to discover the couple of legend, and also to subtly bring more love into the world as the people came to revere the ceremony as a means to solidify their love and strengthen their commitments to their partners.

I simply had to wonder: Could this be the couple the legend had foretold? If they were indeed the couple in question, were they at all aware of their importance?

She was on her back again, this time with the man pushing her knees back toward her chest so he could slide into her body once again. Her lips moved briefly, but I could neither hear nor guess as to what she was saying to him. Was she begging him to hurry? Was she asking him to be slow and gentle with her? Was she marveling at the overall circumstances? His lips parted, but not to speak, as he gazed into her eyes once again before glancing toward her heaving chest.

Then he positioned himself and pressed forward...

The woman's head tipped back as he entered her once more. For a female, her groan was very low, extremely guttural, and intensely primal, and that sound caused my own body to seemingly increase its arousal even as I continued the chant. As he slid into her, her back arched severely, her toes curling tightly, even her fingers curling into the backs of her thighs as she held her legs back for him. He was careful with her, moving slowly. It was truly lovemaking, not a hard and fast and frenzied romp, but from her voice, it was plainly evident that she was still obtaining a profound pleasure despite the languid pace.

Zhuri's voice faded from the chant as she took a rest. I still could not see her on the other side of the outer circle, not with the many flames and the two curved walls of smoke between us, but I guessed that she was also quite aroused by the intensity of the lovers atop the altar. Even as I watched the man push the woman's legs wide so he could lean a little more over her and press even deeper into her body with each thrust, I wondered if Zhuri was like me and also wanted to touch herself and maybe even feel something, or someone, inside her.

As for myself, I was starting to become restless due to my growing arousal. I was almost certain that once this ceremony was finished, I would be practically attacking Zhuri... if she did not attack me first!

The woman's feet were finally placed on the top of the altar, the man leaning far over her and supporting himself with his forearms. They again linked their bloodied hands, this time on either side of her head, and he began to drive himself into her body - faster, deeper, harder. They attempted to kiss a few times, but then gave up, the woman making all manner of intimate sounds, her voice rising in pitch, twice even calling to the deities as her lover pummeled her, each thrust a forceful, powerful plunge, his movements made with great authority as if he owned her, as if she existed solely for such occasions. He was no longer so quiet, but his voice was still softer than hers, although his deep groans provided a wonderful counterpoint to her higher-pitched squeals and cries.

I wondered just how much longer I could stand to watch their passionate fusing of bodies and hearts and souls before my body would of its own accord break protocol and succumb to my escalating need. It was becoming more and more difficult to maintain the chant on my own. Fortunately, the form of the smoky dome was remaining intact, and the power which was continuing to grow within the dome was staying in place, swirling around the lovers as their joining continued at an even faster pace, the woman now screaming as her feet bounced in the air above the man's waist and her hands held in place only by her lover's brute strength.

They were the personification of intense love. While the proximity of the pink flames, despite being cooler than the yellow-orange flames of the inner circle, had caused them to begin perspiring very early in the ceremony, they were both practically drenched in sweat, their bodies glistening and reflecting the light of the flames surrounding them. They were practically a moving work of art, with the feminine curves particularly attracting my eyes. The primal sounds they made, especially the intensity of her voice ringing out into the star-filled night, ensured that I remained riveted upon them - primarily upon her, wishing that I could be in her position, with my companion able to somehow take on his role so that she and I could be so intensely bound in the ceremony...

Zhuri's gasp, momentarily breaking her chant, is what alerted me to the fact that, just faintly, the couple upon the altar was glowing. It was actually difficult to see at first because of how the flames were reflected in their heavy perspiration, but then it became more evident, primarily along their hairlines because of the contrast between their well-tanned skins and her chestnut and his oak hair. But then, almost as soon as I had recognized the glow, it expanded, rapidly, with the copulating couple becoming their own source of light, a pure white light which seemed to penetrate the flames themselves and expand outward in all directions with enough strength to brighten the edges of the clearing in my peripheral vision, spooking the creatures of the night and causing them to scurry to fly away in fright. It was so unexpected that I could no longer chant, gasping aloud as the light expanded, intensified, and seemed to pierce my soul...

For an instant, there was nothing but pure white light. It was blinding, forcing me to shield my eyes with my forearm, and even then I was squinting terribly. The light overpowered everything, overwhelming my senses - I could no longer hear anything other than my own heartbeat, which seemed to be pounding between my ears, and I could feel a tremendous warmth from the light itself and something akin to a powerful storm-borne wind whipping my robe and my hair. Even my own dire arousal faded rapidly as I struggled for breath against the sudden onslaught of light and wind and raw power.

And then, just as quickly, the light was gone, almost as if it had been snuffed out by a mage pinching off the small flame of a candle. The warmth remained, and I could still hear the pounding of my heartbeat between my ears, but I could not yet see, the residual blindness taking a long time to dissipate. While I could not see, however, I could definitely hear, even above the pounding between my ears, and I heard a triumphant bellow accompanied by a glorious scream as the couple upon the altar at last realized their moments of pure bliss, together, their unencumbered voices filling the void created by the lack of the blinding light, their voices so loud that I wondered if they could be heard in the villages ringing the base of the mountain.

Their combined climactic symphony made me aware of my own arousal. The warmth I felt was not that created by the body heat trapped within the robe, nor by the proximity of the flames of the inner circle. The wetness cascading down my legs was fighting for my attention.

...and only then did I realize that neither Zhuri nor I were still chanting.

Fear seized my throat for a moment, for without the chanting, the power generated by the couple could go astray, creating a potential catastrophe. But then I was aware that there was no more dome. There was no more smoke, nor were there any more flames. Even the circular and straight trenches all appeared to be completely empty.

Even stranger, extending far past me, the clearing had become nearly devoid of grass. At the edges of my vision, I saw nothing but dirt extending from what had once been the edge of the outer circle almost all the way to the tree line on my right and to the edge of the plateau on my left.

...and the couple upon the altar were practically frozen together. He was deeply embedded within her, his back arched almost obscenely, his lips pulled back and his teeth bared like an angry hound, his eyes clamped shut, his chest heaving as his breath hissed between his clenched teeth. Her back was also similarly arched, her breasts creating additional artistic curves with her hardened nipples adding two points of ecstasy to the image she presented. Their hands were still clenched tightly together on either side of her head as a final faint cry of sated passion lurched from between her parted lips. Even though her eyes were open, something told me that she was not seeing anything, not even the twinkling stars perched high above her lover's face.

As one, they both fully slumped onto the altar's surface, the man collapsing fully upon the woman, his weight almost certainly making it harder for her to breathe. They were both gasping, each of them twitching in the aftermath of their shared orgasm, both of them soon occasionally moaning.

The moon cast its silvery-white light upon the plateau, giving the scene an eerie beauty. The couple on the altar no longer glowed, but they acted as if nothing had been amiss from their point of view, as if they had caused nothing unusual with their lovemaking. Yet inexplicably, I was compelled to go to my companion, to seize Zhuri in my arms and, even though neither of us was male, to join with her in a manner similar to what we had just witnessed from the lovers still recovering upon the altar.

Zhuri stepped forward, then stopped. This scenario was not something for which our years of training and our countless times overseeing the binding ceremony had prepared us. I doubted that any of the mages would have known what to do in such a situation, not even the ancient Master Mage who was old enough to just barely remember the dedication celebration for the altar.

Only then did I realize, looking back at the lovers, that they were devoid of blood, as was the altar itself. The woman had sat up with the man kneeling, straddling her extended legs as he held her close, kissing the top of her head as she nestled her cheek into his bare chest. They still appeared to have absolutely no qualms about two strangers seeing them sharing such an intimate moment, yet their romantic moment increased the yearning I felt for my companion standing on the other side of what had once been the outer circle.

For a long time, Zhuri and I simply stood our ground, watching over the man and the woman as they continued their post-climactic embrace. I cannot speak for my companion, but fortunately my arousal was gradually decreasing in intensity, although I still yearned to go to her and join with her, much like the man and the woman were doing. Even as I watched the couple upon the altar, I kept picturing Zhuri laying in the tall pristine grass beside a sunsoaked stream, her body bared for all the animals to witness with awe as I slowly licked in random patterns around and across the top of her sweet sex, a pair of fingers continually thrusting into her as her body rocked against my face, her thighs and her hands ensuring that I did not stop as I caused her pleasure to continue its gradual rise, her voice rising to the sky as I looked up her body, admiring the quivering of her shapely breasts upon her ribs, enjoying seeing her mouth agape as carnal sounds rose past her lips...

In time, however, I was aware of Zhuri moving, keeping to the outside of the circle of hard-packed dirt. From the movement of her head, her attention was divided between the couple and me, and my heart soared with the knowledge that, even though she had just witnessed the lovers' impressive and inspiring display, she was still able to focus on me.

Even more amazing to me in a way was that the closer she came to me as she rounded the circle, the more her eyes were riveted upon me. I could practically feel her gaze upon me, her eyes stroking my arms, my sides, my hips, rising up my stomach and my ribs to gently grasp my breasts...