The last vestiges of their mortal forms dissolved, not into oblivion, but into a mutual, incandescent flash of divine light and molasses-thick warmth. Sunbeam and Moonbeam had willingly surrendered their temporary physical selves, choosing this profound, perfect union as their immortal, consensual final form.
Within the Singing Tulip, the fleshy, pulsating walls that had so lovingly massaged and enveloped them became their new shared skin. This was not imprisonment; it was the ultimate, ecstatic embrace.
Sunbeam, the Divine Sun-Commander, felt his essence flow, a molten river of golden warmth, intertwining with the deep, cool violet of Moonbeam, the Divine Moon-Commander. Their immortal consciousnesses merged, a dizzying, joyous clarity where his pleasure became hers, and her desire was the pulse of his being. The very petals yielded like skin, warm and supple, to the touch of the ambient air—a constant, sensual reminder of their new, shared body.
As their eternal souls settled into the plant's glorious core, a drop of the sacred sap—their blended divine nectar—secreted onto the interior flesh. It was honey-sweet, carrying the familiar, cherished hint of salt that belonged to Sunbeam's essence, now perfectly fused with Moonbeam's own delicate sweetness. It was the taste of their mutual, fulfilled love, now the lifeblood of their shared divinity.
In this state of ultimate consciousness, they were the very joy made visible.
Sunbeam's immortal virility and passion became the stamen-crown, forever poised and strong for the world, a part of him that twitched when kissed by the morning light or the loving touch of a devotee.
Moonbeam's eternal, receptive love and boundless desire became the pistil-heart, which gushed nectar in every rain shower, forever wet and ready, a radiant fountain of her endless pleasure.
They communicated not in words, but in the ambient music of their perpetual climax, a sound that became the voice of the wind and the sigh of the sap. When the mortal world, whispering wishes for passion, approached, the tulip would sing back to them the sound of their eternal, sacred joining:
From the depths of the stamen, now the wind, came Sunbeam's deep, resonating hum: "Brrrroooom... shhhhlurp... yesss..."
From the heart of the pistil, now the sap, came Moonbeam's soft, everlasting sigh: "Shlick... shlooop... always..."
Bound together in this warm, fragrant, divinely erotic immortality, they found their true happy ending: not as separate individuals, but as one beautiful, singing, sensual, and eternally fulfilled entity—a monument to mutual consent and unending love.
No comments:
Post a Comment