Sex Stories by Letter ] [ Sex Story of the Week ] [ Story Forums ] [ Adult Personals ]
Sex Toys & Videos ] [ More Sex Stories ] [ Submit Stories ] [ Links ] [ Webmasters ]
Archived Sex Stories



This is a sexual story copyrighted by me, Shon Richards, so
please don't make any money from it. I welcome, read and respond to all
e-mail at

This story is the second part in a non-continuous series. That
means each part can be read for it's own enjoyment. You can read part 7
first and then part 2 and not miss anything. It also means that this
story is self contained and it won't leave you hanging.

For more of this series and essays on the nature of creativity and
writing; please visit
"Vanessa and Me"
Part 3
By Shon Richards
"What do you know about Mayday?" Vanessa asked me. It was the
first thing she had said to me since telling me to get into the car an
hour ago.

"It's on the first of May, and it celebrates the Spring," I
answered her. "It's also today."

Vanessa nodded and waited for me to reveal more. She was looking
adventurous today. Her long black hair was woven into various braids
reminding me of Amazons for some reason. Her usual sunglasses were
obscuring her eyes and she had her lollipop bobbing in her mouth. I
think it was lemon-flavored.

"Its also the day they put up a Maypole," I offered. I wasn't
sure where my sometimes lover and fulltime mentor on Creativity was
going with this topic, but it was clear she wanted to see what I knew

"What's a Maypole?" Vanessa asked as the wind rippled through her
white blouse.

"I think its phallic related," I guessed. "I seem to remember
some off-color jokes about it in a Fantasy series I read. It's a big
giant pole that young virgins dance around while wrapping it in

"Why is the pole phallic?" Vanessa asked.

"If I remember right, the pole represents some sort of Male
Fertility spirit," I added. "The ribbons represent binding his
fertility. I think. I remember researching it for a story once, but I
found conflicting information. It seems to be a European thing, but
every region had its own rules."

Vanessa laughed. I loved to watch her laugh lines emerge on her
face. Ten years my senior, she was a striking woman.

"It doesn't matter what the pole used to represent," Vanessa
said. She had her lollipop out and was waving it at the fields we were
passing. "They used the whole ritual to try to bind elemental forces
to grow crops and maybe have children. Both are things society has
mastered today. We have genetically engineered corn and more fertility
drugs than medieval people could have dreamed of. That's why no one
remembers the exact reasons for the Mayday celebration; they don't need
to know. Trust me, if eating next winter depended on knowing how many
ribbons were needed or what magic words to say, people would have

"Why do you bring it up?" I asked.

"Because, why do you think they picked the first of May?" Vanessa
asked back.

"I know this one," I laughed. "It was halfway between the Spring
Equinox and the Summer Solstice."

"Right, it was also the sacred day of Bel, a Celtic God of Fire,"
Vanessa added.

"Why was Fire related to Mayday?" I asked.

"Let me ask you this instead," Vanessa said. "Where do you get
your ideas from story-boy? How can you look at a car wreck and think
of a story about ghost cars and another person looks at the same wreck
and can only think about his insurance?"

"Just the way I am, I guess," I answered.

"Maybe," Vanessa conceded and we both laughed. We recognized
that we were both being evasive with answers today.

"Let me ask you another question," Vanessa continued. "What is
it like for you when you get writer's block?"

I grimaced.

"Its very frustrating," I said. "Like trying to grow an idea out
of dead soil. Sometimes I just sit there stumped with nothing to write
about the when I do get an idea it feels lifeless or uninteresting."

"Lifeless, exactly," Vanessa agreed.

We rode in silence until Vanessa turned the car down a dirt road.
A few minutes later I noticed a primitive roadblock crossing our path.
A man stood guard to one side next to a portable shed. Behind him, the
road continued and turned to cleave through a thick mass of trees.

The man approached the car as Vanessa pulled to a stop. He
looked like a stereotype of farmers from most movies, which is to say
he had overalls, a shotgun, a hunting cap and looked ready and able to
shoot us on a whim. Vanessa flashed him a piece of paper she had
folded on the dashboard. The man smiled and relaxed.

"If you two will step out and pick a mask?" the man said

"Certainly," Vanessa answered. "Come on," she told me.

The farmer opened up the shed, which was locked with a thick
padlock. I was a little surprised to see that what he had so carefully
guarded was just shelves and shelves of masks. They ranged from
elaborate leather hoods to simple domino masks that covered only the
eyes. Some of the masks were adorned with feathers and spangles while
some of them were Halloween masks of animals that covered the face
completely. I noticed there was nothing frightening or scary about the

"Pick one that sings to you," Vanessa said. "Something that
represents you as a writer would be best."

That was a tough choice and a little abstract. There were masks
of dogs and lions and some masks that reminded me of Zorro and a few
masks that reminded me of bondage parties. I thought of myself as a
writer and realized that I have a sort male swagger to my style that
I'm proud of. Or at least hope I have. I saw a green domino mask that
reminded me of Zorro and Robin Hood.

"Hold still," Vanessa told me as she applied the stage glue to my
face. The mask pressed against my skin and I felt a chill. Whether it
was from this sensual woman masking me, or some power of the mask, was
up for debate. Once affixed, it cut my peripheral vision. I couldn't
see out of the corner of my eyes and it reminded me of the binders
horses wear.

"Perfect," Vanessa said as she examined me. She either approved
of my choice or agreed with it. I liked her mask as well. It was
black snakeskin mask that covered her eyes and cheeks. It was shaped
like an upside down 'W'. It matched the snake bracelet on her wrist
and it blended right in with her black hair.

"We're ready now," she told the man, who moved the roadblock
away. We climbed back into the car and continued down the road. As he
moved the roadblock back into place, I felt sealed in despite the
bright sky above us.

"Fire is often associated with knowledge," Vanessa said as we
entered the trees. "Most myths begin human knowledge with fire, but I
like to think it also represents intelligence."

I saw where she was going with the reasoning, which was nice
considering I had no idea where we were going physically. "So in a
way, a festival on a day sacred to Fire would be sacred to ideas."

"Exactly," Vanessa said. "A few years ago some of us realized we
already had a day sacred to writers and artists. We decided to do
something about it."

She fell silent again as the car emerged from the forest. We were
now in a wide grassy area. I could see the ruins of a barn and assumed
this treeless area used to be a field. There were already cars parked
along the trees and I could see a large group of people gathered in the
grass. They sat directly on the grass with no blankets or chairs.
There was a small plastic pool set off to the side and a cooler filled
with bottles of water beside it.

I was not surprised to see a pole standing proud in the middle of
the gathering. It was decorated with various ribbons of all sorts of
colors. Something that resembled the tip of a cock was carved on the
top and the entire pole glistened from black varnish.

"Neat," I laughed. "It's a Mayday festival."

"Remember," Vanessa said to me as we got out of her car. "Just
tell someone 'No thank you' if they do something you don't like. Also,
don't call me by name. Your mask is your identity here."

She refused to explain herself any further. Vanessa just walked
towards the group and ignored my questions. When we reached the group
she sat down between two men. I noticed everyone in the circle
alternated between male and female, so I was forced to sit away from my
mentor. The group had an odd mixture of clothing; some were dressed
nicely while others wore work clothes. I sat down between a short
brunette with an owl mask and a black woman wearing a brown cat mask.

"The circle is finally complete," a man said. He was sitting
separate from the group by the pole and I was curious why I didn't
notice him before. Tall and deeply tanned, he was wearing a long green
robe that reminded me of a judge's gown. His hair was long and blonde
and the ends blew lightly in the wind. The simplicity of his mask
struck me. It was a blue ribbon that ran across his eyes with tiny
slits cut for vision. The rest of us looked oddly overdressed with our
elaborate masks.

"In ancient times, people gathered to call on the Gods to
fertilize their fields or their loins," he said. "Today we gather to
call on whatever powers there may be to fertilize our minds with

"Instead of wheat, we ask for originality."

"Instead of children, we ask for the inspiration to inspire

"Instead of food for our bodies, we ask for sustenance for our

"Hold the hands of your neighbors," the Blue Ribbon man
commanded. I held the hand of the Owl lady in my left and the hand of
the cat Woman in my right.

"Joined in hands, we make the call together," the Blue Ribbon man

"Men, look at your neighbor to the right in the eyes," The Blue
Ribbon man commanded. I looked at the cat Woman to my right and
noticed she was wearing light blue contact lenses. Her dark skin
soaked the sunlight like a cat on a windowsill.

"Look at your neighbor and see in their eyes, your own desire for
creativity reflected back at you," the Blue Ribbon man said. He was
right. Her contact lenses told me she liked to stand out in a group.
The cat mask she had chosen reminded me of Egyptian mysteries and the
yearning to make something that lasted forever.

"Now men, look at the neighbor to your right, and look into their
eyes for the same truth."

He was right again. The Owl Lady had brown eyes concealed among
white feathers. Her eyes darted over me, absorbing everything in that
visual artist manner that I often saw in Vanessa. Even in ritual, she
was memorizing and examining me to see if I would be a good subject
later. Could she tell I was doing the same for a later story?

"In ancient times, kissing the Blarney Stone was alleged to give
people the power of eloquence. I believe a fellow creative soul has
more power than a rock. Men, kiss your neighbor to your right, and
discover this for yourself."

I was a bit surprised by this command but the cat Woman was
already leaning towards me. Our lips met parted. Her tongue was
slippery in my mouth and I loved the flavor of mint on her. The
whiskers of her mask brushed my cheeks as we drank our kisses.

"Now men, taste the power of the neighbor to your left," the Blue
Ribbon man commanded.

With reluctance I broke my kiss with cat Woman and turned to Owl
Lady. Her lips were shiny and smiling. She kissed me softer than the
Cat Woman did but the passion was the same. Our tongues meet in
feathery light touches.

"In ancient Maydays past, the Green man was thought to bring
mischief and randomness to the festival. Perhaps this was to show that
chaos is male, or perhaps it was to put a fear of Nature into the
primitive people."

"Now women, release the hands you hold and touch the man on your
right," the Blue Ribbon man commanded. "Touch him with your fingers
and hands as you realize that such fears have no place here. This man
you touch has nothing for you to fear."

The Owl Lady released my hand and touched my cheek. It was a
gentle stroke that glided down my neck and moved my long brown hair off
my shoulder. She gripped my shoulders while her other hand moved over
my chest. I was being felt up but it was soothing. I stayed perfectly
still even when her fingertips brushed my pants and coaxed my knees.

"Now women, touch the man to your left and recognize that though
he is male, he seeks the same thing you seek. There will be no gender
conflicts here," the Blue Ribbon man intoned.

The cat Woman smiled as she lifted my t-shirt and felt my chest.
Her fingers toyed with my chest hair and I almost giggled. I watched
her mask covered face as her hands explored my shoulders and gripped
the muscles of my chest. Her expression was intense as she
familiarized herself with my body. I felt like I was being absorbed.

"Now everyone, you now know and see that we are all equal in our
quest," the Blue Ribbon man announced. "We all seek the same elusive
goal of creativity despite our gender. Shed your preconceptions and
modesties by removing your clothes and revealing your naked forms to
your fellow questors."

I froze with hesitation. Beside me, the cat Woman was already
pulling off her blouse and the Owl Lady was standing to remove her
pants. Across from me, Vanessa was whipping off her blouse and
snapping off her bra. The men were stripping as well, revealing bodies
both fit and unfit. The idea of modesty seemed more like ego when you
are the only one not stripping in a group.

I started easy by taking off my shirt. The sun glowed on the
scratches the cat Woman had left on my chest. I stood up and unzipped
my pants and nervously pulled them down. My erection was huge under my
pants and I could feel my face burning with embarrassment. I felt
exposed and vulnerable yet the rapid nudity of the members of the
circle encouraged me. As hard as it should have been to strip in front
of strangers, they didn't feel like strangers. The earlier rituals had
familiarized me with them as well as gave us a bond.

I pulled my underwear down and exposed my hard cock and bare

"In the oldest days, people used to come together on Mayday to
invoke fertility of the Earth," the Blue Ribbon man announced. "They
used symbolism, chanting and sex to command the power of creation.
Today, we try to invoke the fertility of the Mind."

"We don't have the symbols they used, we have our own. We don't
use their chants, we have our own. But there is one thing we can use
that they used and that is the power of sex. In the union of bodies
and sharing of sexual energy, we invoke the oldest form of creation."

"Let those who are satisfied with their creativity sit or leave,"
the Blue Ribbon man offered. "Let those who quest further stay around
the Maypole and stoke the flames of creativity together in a fusion of

I almost laughed. Was this whole ceremony an excuse for an orgy?
Part of me wondered if the masks and kissing and stripping were a joke
and this was the punch line. Perhaps this whole thing was an act to
get someone laid. As people moved together, kissed and held each other
as they moved to the ground; I saw that no one else was laughing. Even
Vanessa, who was locking lips with a man wearing a leather hood.

The cat Woman was looking around for a partner. That seemed like
a crime in itself. I reached for her and put my arm around her waist.

"I have a creative flame for you," I told her. She laughed but I
stopped her giggles with a deep kiss. Free to use my hands, I ran them
over her back and grabbed her dark buttocks. She moaned into my kiss
as my fingers squeezed her ass hard.

We ground together for a small span of time. My cock pressed
against her belly while her buttocks squirmed under my grip. Our
tongues and lips never stopped kissing and I was amazed by how aroused
I was. I was quickly losing myself under the warm sun of May and I
began to believe that today truly was dedicated to a God of Fire.

I don't remember who pulled whom to the ground, but somehow I
ended up on my back with the cat Woman descending onto my face. Her
dark sex was completely hairless and completely wet. Dark thighs
straddled my head like ebony pillars. She cupped my hands over her
breasts as she ground her hips into my mouth. As my tongue danced
inside her, I watched her torso sway to some unheard music.

Her sex was a fountain of desire that I lapped eagerly from.
Ideas raced through my head along with metaphors, imagery and plots.
While her pelvis grinded against my mouth, I felt like my mind was
going to explode with stories and novels. If I wasn't so damn horny, I
might have been tempted to push her off so I could write some of the
ideas down.

A hand gripped my cock and I moaned in the cat Woman's pussy as I
was slowly stroked. The touch was slow and delicate and I thought of
Owl Lady though it could have been any of the women assembled today.
My mind raced as I wondered who it could have been. Was it the redhead
with the fox mask or was it the older woman in the red satin veil I saw
earlier? I wondered if it could be Vanessa, my mentor come to stroke
my creative flames higher.

About then I felt a mouth encase my cock and I stop worrying
about who it could be. Their mouth dropped over the entire length of
my cock until I was engulfed and I could feel the exhalation of their
nose upon my balls. My cock pulsed under their tongue and I moaned
endlessly into the cat Woman's sex with pleasure. Slowly the mouth
rose and dropped and those tight lips stroked my cock with a delightful

The cat Woman grabbed my hair and pulled me tighter against her
sex. I was gasping for air but still I continued to lick. My senses
were torn in half as the smell and taste of her beautiful pussy
competed with the bliss of my cock being sucked. All my eyes could see
was the rich darkness of the cat Woman's belly as she pulled me harder
against herself.

In a quiver of thighs and final face grinding of her hips, the
Cat Woman climaxed. Her hard clitoris was pressing against my teeth
and I could feel her desire dripping down my chin. Despite my need for
air, I continued to suck and devour any space of her sex my tongue
could reach.

Finally she rose from my face. A parting smile is all I got from
her mask-covered face. The sun shone down directly onto me as I gasped
for air.

During all of this, someone continued to suck my cock. I looked
down and saw a blonde with very short hair and a Butterfly mask that
covered her entire face. Her body was small, almost delicate, and my
imagination immediately filled in her history. She was a Fairy,
summoned to the orgy by the noise and powers we had invoked.

As my imagination wrote a story around her, she released my cock
from her mouth and smiled at me briefly before continuing to suck me.
I laid back and relaxed. My hand rested on her back and felt the
sensuous seesaw motion of her spine as her head rose and fell on my

After a few minutes she stopped. Butterfly Imp gave me a wink
and stood up. As I started to rise, she walked casually away until a
Wolf man grabbed her and she squealed with delight.

At first I thought I might have done something wrong but I came
to understand that wasn't the case. Everywhere I looked, people were
hooking up and parting. It was like a sensual buffet. Some people
were sampling delights while others were fucking to completion. It
depended simply on the moods of the participants and more importantly,
according to their creative appetites. This wasn't just an orgy; it
was a meeting and mixing of spirits.

A bent over woman caught my eye. Well, her ass caught my eye
since I didn't see much of the woman. She was on her knees facing away
from me sucking on someone's cock. All I could see of her was her pale
ass framed by dark tan lines; swaying back and forth as her front half
did something naughty. The ass had a few grass stains but what I
really loved was the contrast of her dark tan against the pale skin of
her buttocks. Her tan lines were like intangible lingerie.

I walked over to her, passing a cat man mounting a Dove Woman and
one couple wearing identical leather masks as they performed oral sex
on one another. I ran my hands over her hips to let her know I was
there. She made no movements to stop me as I cupped my palms against
her firm ass. The man she was sucking wore a red bandana and
considering how tightly his eyes were closed, I doubt he even noticed

The unknown woman's ass pushed back against my hands in an
unmistakable invitation. Her sex had light blonde hair that tickled my
manhood as I slipped into her lips. I pulled her ass back towards me
until the globes of her buttocks rested against my stomach. Her ass
was amazingly cool in contrast to the heat of the day. Once my cock
had a moment to rest inside of her, to feel the heat of her fire and
for her to feel the size of my offering, I began to move inside her.

It was strange and surreal but completely enchanting. Her ass
had summoned me. I thought about the legends of Sirens and had a few
silly thoughts about singing buttocks. As I fucked her with a slow
steady pace, my over-active imagination was filling in the blanks about
this mystery woman. Was she as blonde as her pubic hair? Was she a
young woman or an older madam of refined wisdom? Was she thinking of
me or just the cock in her mouth?

As I fucked her I understood that the point of the masks was to
have sex with the unknown.

Her ass impacted against my stomach and sent delightful little
quakes through her buttocks. My hands sweated against her waist as I
pulled and pushed her onto my cock. I could hear her moans despite the
flesh in her mouth. With a final groan, my own fire burst within her
and added to her collections of inspiration.

I pulled away shaking. Despite my orgasm, my member was still
hard and eager. The unknown woman's ass was red from where my body had
slammed into it. She continued to suck and I was glad she never looked
behind her. I didn't want a mask to color the ideas she had given me.

"Come with me, Green Hero," a Snake Witch told me. Looking up I
saw the sun shining bright behind her and setting her dark hair aflame.
The hair between her legs was glistening from a dozen mergings. Her
heavy breasts were proud and flushed. It took me a moment to recognize
her for Vanessa.

"You need to stop and take breaks or else you'll get
overwhelmed," she told me. "Come with me for a minute and then you can
get back to your pursuits."

I followed her to the plastic pool filled with water. She
splashed some water on my cheeks and stroked my back as I cupped water
to my mouth.

"Wow, my mind is racing," I stuttered. "Is it really magic?"

"Do you want the mystic bullshit answer or the scientific
answer?" the Snake Witch asked me.

"Both," I said. It seemed like a crime in this place to not
listen to every idea.

"Polyamorists call it 'new relationship energy'," she explained.
"Its that thrill you get from a new sexual or emotional relationship.
It's that excitement you get for the first two months with a new
girlfriend. Your emotions are flying high because for one brief
moment; there's no limit to what might happen."

"Another explanation is that men and women each have different
kinds of energies. By participating in a physical orgy, you are
swapping energy along with fluids. Think of it as a metaphysical

"Another reason is that the Blue Ribbon man is a hippy who
organizes this event as a way to get laid and right now you're just
really horny and thinking its magic," the Snake Witch offered.

"Wait a minute," I said. "Which one is the bullshit answer?"

The Snake Witch smiled. "Does it matter? If it works, don't
question it. I've been doing it for a few years and I can honestly
say, it hasn't hurt my art at all. It'll be up to you to decide what
you think before next year's Mayday rolls around."

I laughed. Looking into the crowd, I saw a dozen different
combinations of people and masks. There were also a dozen different
stories and a dozen more different images that I wouldn't be forgetting
anytime soon.

"I'm going to need more research then," I said slyly as I pulled
the Snake Witch to me.

"Are you seducing me?" she asked as I cupped a breast and kissed
the nipple. "Or you just using me for my female creative energies?"

"Does it matter?" I said before sucking on the other nipple.

Later in the grass, she cried out her answer.


Sex stories by alphabet: a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z


© 2003 Sex Stories Archive. All rights reserved.