This is an excerpt from a story called “the lost epic of a wandering muse”
This part of the story is where the wandering muse of enthusiasm sets out to enthuse the other muses of the world and he follows a trail of paint and pleasurably enlightened beauty leading to a lovely androgenous figure, the muse of radical self expressionism… And there they sit wondering if their work here is done, and the muse of enthusiasm gets to help add to the joy in the muse of radical self expressionisms work, it’s an “amuse your muse” theme where they end up bouncing radical ideas off each other with renewed music, renewed stories, and renewed feelings of being nude beneath the eyes of their own recreational recreation of self and all else!
I’ll start the except off here and cut to the chase…
He knocks on the door,
They answers with a rush of radical expressions,
They see him for who he really is, their smile reaches wider than the sky inside his eyes,
he reciprocates with excitement…
They motions to welcome him in,
he graciously takes his place amongst their musings, the art lives and breathes in every fiber of their existence, the walls, the tables, the chairs, even the floor begs to have dripping wet expressions of self enlightened creation added to it
It’s as if the instrumental decorations of time and space depended on them to make it happen…
Right here and right now just like that…
“I’d like to show you something” they say confidently ushering him towards a painting…
He feels an array of feelings oozing from textured desires of their well composed reflections spread out and ready to be known…
“This is where the occurrence starts…” They take his hand off his hips and bring it from caressing their chest to the bottom left corner of the painting inviting his touch to explore it further…
His hand warms up and the paint seems to come back to life as if it were just freshly painted all over again…
“This is beautiful…” His mind sparks up with a flare of self discovery… “The terribly wonderful mystery of light unraveling in pigments mixed before my very conception”…
They stand beside him resting a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it firmly, stirring up some blood to be released from his neck as they delicately dance their other hand across his abdomen feeling it harden as he flexes to maintain his posture with their second firm shoulder rub which they then lightly slide down his arm as they switch sides, dragging the other hand along his waist to the small of his back …
“Here, at the occurrence of every painting, is where we enter it, slowly, but firmly with a sense of uninterrupted creativity, let your eyes relax” they nudge him forward and his hand slips into the swirled up paint pieces … He is startled at first … “It’s ok, we are at one with the art now, allow this experience to become something, no pressure necessary” he looks at them with ease, feeling their heart as they hold him in a tango and fall completely in the picture…
(To be continued upon request)
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/s161zb/story_excerpt_from_the_lost_epic_of_the_wandering