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Saturday, April 2, 2011

The Wicked Moon by Amber Redd

Nate walked home from the feed mill. His boss had insisted he stay late and help him complete the inventory for the month. Why couldn’t George ask one of the other men to help him? Why did it always have to be him?

“You take your time and do the inventory right,” George always stated, pipe dangling from his mouth. “Why pay one of those other nitwits to screw up what I know you’ll do right the first time?"

Sighing, Nate plodded on toward home. He liked to walk to work and back. And since he only lived two miles outside of town, traveling via shoe leather saved him the expense of gasoline. He glanced skyward. The moon had risen early. White moonbeams caressed the landscape. The apple blossoms in Old Man Dover’s orchard glowed with ghostly luminescence. The grass and leaves, the rolling fields...all of it looked as if someone had painted it in tones of gray, silver, and white. It reminded Nate of some of Van Gogh’s nightscape paintings.

As he cut across the orchard, Nate saw her. He stopped cold.

Naked, she stood in a small clearing, coal-black hair hanging to her ass, her perfect face tilted upward, gaze trained on the moon. The moonlight gilded her body in a magical glow. It defined the shadows that caressed her curvy form, and heightened her smooth planes and rounded swells.

He couldn’t tear his gaze from her beauty. What was she doing here naked and alone? A macabre thought struck him. Could she be a witch about to perform a ceremony? Reluctantly, Nate started to retreat and take a side path home.

Somehow, the woman sensed his presence. Turning, she beckoned to him.

Nate stepped behind a tree, his heart thrashing so hard he feared she could hear its beat.

“I know you’re there,” her voice, soft as the silk of a spider’s web, soughed to him through the tree branches. “I won’t hurt you. Spend time with me for I am only here a short while.”

Slowly, he approached her.

“Come,” she said and waved him over. “Show me the love I so desire.”

Although fear sluiced through Nate, for some reason he also felt drawn to the woman. Was it a trap? Were others lurking in the shadows ready to pounce on him, subdue him, and offer him as a sacrifice?

It didn’t matter. Nate had to have her.

Her heavy, ripe breasts enticed him. The sharp curve of her waist and ample hips paid homage to the voluptuous actresses of old black-and-white movies. The moon graced her skin with a silver sheen, and strands of sapphire highlights gleamed in her black locks. Eyes as inky as storm clouds and framed by thick lashes regarded him with curiosity and innocence.

“You’re not as sweet as you look, are you?” he said. Inwardly, he groaned at his verbal blunder.

She smiled. He wanted to kiss her deep-red lips....and to do other things to her, things that would make grown men hard and painted ladies blush.

“I’m only here for a little while,” she said. “Just until the moon wanes.”

“Then what?” He studied her with skepticism, but something in Nate told him that no matter how hard it was to believe she was there in front of him, she was very real indeed. Could magic make her seem real? He didn’t know, but although part of him screamed he should walk away, another part begged him to stay and find out more.

She said nothing, just turned and looked up at the moon.

“Where are you from?”

“There.” She pointed at the heavenly sphere.

“The moon?”

“Yes. And it’s a wicked moon, my prison.”

He frowned. Could she be touched in the head? “What do you mean?”

“People say that it’s the man on the moon, but it’s really a woman.” She bowed her head. “My prison on the wicked moon.”

Surely she was jesting. “Who put you there?”

“Whatever power exists.” She turned her dark-pool eyes toward him, her gaze lonely, soulful. “I don’t remember. It’s been too many millennia. I’m only allowed to visit Earth once a year.”

She suddenly appeared directly in front of him. The aroma of fresh water and almonds assailed his senses. The aroma intoxicated him, and he breathed deeply, desiring more.

“Make me feel wanted,” she said so softly he almost didn’t hear her. “Make me feel...needed. I want to know that I belong to someone.”

She kissed him. At first, her lips proved cold, but the more her mouth moved against Nate’s, the warmer she became, and the harder his cock grew. She tasted like honey silvered with moonshine, both sweet and intoxicating with the burn of fire.

“Come with me up there,” she whispered and trailed kisses down his throat to the open neck of his shirt. “Take me as your woman and stay with me forever.”

Desire raced through Nate’s body on a whirlwind of flames. He wanted more of her, desired to ride her until he grew raw, but he couldn’t. If he stayed with her, he sensed he’d be lost forever. He had a life. He had work to finish. And most of all, there were people who depended upon him.

“Let me have you as my lover,” she said. “Give me love. Stay with me. Let us make love until the end of time.”

Oh to live with her in her ethereal world and make love to her forever.... No, he had to be strong, had to remain here on his plane of existence.

Until then, he’d enjoy her body, even if it was only until the moon waned.

He found himself lying on the dewy orchard grass, his clothes tossed to the side, her pliant, voluptuous body beneath his.

“Make me yours,” she pleaded as the light of the moon shimmered in her eyes.

Cock straining for release, he entered her. She wrapped her long legs around his driving hips, pulling him deeper into her core, urging him to pummel her delicate, satiny folds.

She sighed. “Mine. You are mine.”

He rode her until he spewed himself into her body. Apple blossoms drifted down upon their nude forms as his howls of ecstasy echoed in the orchard. Her inner walls milked his member, clenching and massaging until she screamed out some bizarre language.

“Come to me again,” she said. “In a year’s time. Look for me here.”

He rolled to one side and looked at her only to discover her fading into the ether.

“Don’t forget about me....” Her words drifted on the night breeze, the aroma of rain and almonds tantalizing his senses.

Nate sat up, admiring the heavens, his disappointed gaze trained on the wicked moon. He had tasted of her body, her love but didn’t even know her name. The need to see her again overwhelmed him, but the desire to love her anew proved a greater power. Nate scrambled to his feet and found his clothes to don them.

“Where are you?” he cried to the darkness.

An owl hooted in the distance.

“Please come back. I need to see you, spend more time with you.”

The only reply was the soft wind rustling the bloom-laden tree branches.

“Damn.” Nate glanced around at the orchard. “I don’t think I can wait a whole year to see her again.”

He started his trek toward that path that led home. As he walked, he plucked a long ebony hair from his forearm—one of hers. Remembering an old tradition his grandmother had once told him, Nate wrapped it around his wedding band finger and tied it there. It didn’t make any sense, but he loved the esoteric woman, loved her with his entire soul.

Waiting for her return in a year would be torturous, but until then, he would worship her through the moon’s bright and wicked phases.

About the author: Amber Redd is a professional freelance writer who also writes m/m romances. She resides in the mountains with her family, two dogs, and several cats that she saved from an animal shelter. Amber loves to write erotic romance so hot it melts the hinges off the bedroom door.

When you pick up one of her books you’ll find vampires to demons to lonely schoolteachers and dark, brooding men. Just be prepared for surprises and scorching love scenes. For more about Amber and her fiction visit her website or sign up for her newsletter at

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