[Musing] The Tale of Mirabel and Erik the Pure, P.2

[pre-story]The conclusion to the patron-requested story of a lovely angel and her long-lost mortal love in paradise! Not much to say on this one, so just enjoy! 
As always, if you like what you see, [redacted][/pre-story]

Mirabel stood there, nude. She was a vision of angelic perfection, literally and figuratively. Her smooth, pale skin was devoid of even the smallest of blemishes, her face was soft and kind, her cheeks bearing a rosy flush, her full lips naturally pink, her features framed by long, wavy golden hair and lit by the golden glow of the halo hovering just inches over her head. Her body was equally divine, an hourglass figure, curves that even the most beautiful of mortal women would envy, but not so exaggerated they looked unnatural. Her breasts were perfect, supple mounds the size of oranges that sat proudly on her chest, riding high without the slightest hint of sag, with the unmistakable shape and softness of natural breasts. Her silhouette tapered in at the waist, her stomach smooth and flat, with just the faintest hint of healthy tone beneath it, then flared out into generous, rounded hips that in turn tapered down to shapely thighs, the perfect blend of firm muscle and soft flesh. Between those thighs laid the promised land, her womanhood, a small patch of golden cotton candy fuzz on her pubic bone her only body hair, her outer lips modestly closed, but still flushed rosy-pink, swollen and glistening with desire. Behind her, her glorious wings were half-spread, their neatly-groomed feathers so bright white they almost seemed to glow.

Erik, still on his knees in the seemingly endless field of flowers, could only stare up at her body with blatant awe. She was… divine. That was only word that could possibly describe her. There was a moment of silence as his gaze drank in her beauty, marvelling at every inch of her like he was studying a work of art. Mirabel smiled, softly. “You can do more than just look, you know. Touch me.” She urged, her musical voice taking on a sultry quality.

[Musing] The Tale of Mirabel and Erik the Pure, Part 1

[pre-story] [redacted][/pre-story]

Everything was dark. Then, he heard a voice, soft and feminine. “Erik…” it called, and suddenly, he saw a light, small and far away. “Erik…” The voice called again, it was coming from the light. It sounded… familiar, somehow. Unconsciously, he felt himself drawn toward the light, the voice…

His eyes fluttered open. It was so bright, but somehow, the light didn’t make his eyes ache as it so often did in the mornings. Had the nurse left his light on? But as his vision cleared, he didn’t see the light above his bed. In fact, he didn’t see anything above his bed. The sky was so incredibly blue, dotted with fluffy wisps of cloud, it just seemed to go on forever in all directions. The sun hung high above him, but he didn’t feel the heat of its rays on his skin, and it didn’t hurt to look at it… The air was so clean, cleaner than he’d ever experienced, and it smelled sweet, the fragrant scent of flowers filling his nose with each breath. A gentle breeze caressed him, flowing over his skin from head to toe as he lay there for a moment, it was so nice, so unlike the still, sterile, stale air he was so used to... Wait… Where was his oxygen mask?! His hand shot up to his face, moving with a swift responsiveness he hadn’t had in years, and touched his face, groping for the stiff plastic that wasn’t there. His skin… It felt so smooth on his fingertips. His eyes widened as he caught sight of his hand, it wasn’t the bony claw, twisted by arthritis and marked with liver spots, that he was used to, no, it was… young. What...

The Thousand Titles of Angra Ba'ahram; Ch. 1

Chaper 1: Angra Ba'ahram

[Pre-Story Bit]
I’m gonna keep this bit short and sweet this time. This story is one of three possible big, multi-chapter stories that are in the running to become my main project after I finish Daddy’s Home, and in gratitude to my faithful readers, I’m giving my fans control over its course! [redacted]
Content warnings: Hyper-scale cocks, size difference, cumflation, magic, rough sex, mind reading, girl-on-girl, Incest (kinda?), and possibly excessive exposition.
[/Pre-Story Bit]

For a human to truly understand the true nature of the multiverse, they must set aside their ignorant self-importance and open their minds to possibilities beyond the scope of their understanding. They must perceive the three dimensions that mortal minds can, and accept the existence of a fourth they cannot. They must open themselves to the aether, the raw magic flowing along the fourth dimension, for once a mind tastes the aether, it can perceive the magic all around them. They must look upon the ever-expanding infinite vastness of their own universe, and humble themselves with the truth that their realm is but a single plane amid infinite others. They must accept that even as their world is but a single grain of sand in the vast desert of their universe, that universe is, itself, but a single pages in a vast tome of realities, a single facet upon a shape beyond mortal comprehension.

The Thousand Titles of Angra Ba'ahram: Ch. 1 [Preview]

Chapter 1: Angra Ba'ahram [Preview]

[Pre-Story Bit]
I’m gonna keep this bit short and sweet this time. This story is one of three possible big, multi-chapter stories that are in the running to become my main project after I finish Daddy’s Home, and in gratitude to my faithful readers, I’m giving my fans control over its course! [redacted]
Content warnings: Hyper-scale cocks, size difference, cumflation, magic, rough sex, mind reading, girl-on-girl, Incest (kinda?), and possibly excessive exposition.
[/Pre-Story Bit]

[preview]For a human to truly understand the true nature of the multiverse, they must set aside their ignorant self-importance and open their minds to possibilities beyond the scope of their understanding. They must perceive the three dimensions that mortal minds can, and accept the existence of a fourth they cannot. They must open themselves to the aether, the raw magic flowing along the fourth dimension, for once a mind tastes the aether, it can perceive the magic all around them. They must look upon the ever-expanding infinite vastness of their own universe, and humble themselves with the truth that their realm is but a single plane amid infinite others. They must accept that even as their world is but a single grain of sand in the vast desert of their universe, that universe is, itself, but a single pages in a vast tome of realities, a single facet upon a shape beyond mortal comprehension.