Sequel to 'All The Queen's Horses'. Read that book first.
Sorry guys, I won't be finishing this story so you may not even want to start reading. Unfortunately, the demand for my original works is too high and time consuming for me to wrte any more...
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Photos above are actual pictures of Crazy Horse in Paris.
Chapter 3 – Crazy Horse
Faeryn
Thankful to be fully dressed again, I followed Gwion through several more unknown hallways, still flushed from our conversation.
He wasn't anything like what I expected him to be. I had anticipated him to be reserved and distant, because that was all I'd ever know. But he wasn't. He was playful. His eyes lit up and his mouth twitched with humor. I blushed again at the memory of his teasing me about vibration.
I certainly didn't have extensive experience with sex. Well, I actually had no experience at all. But over the years, I had a few friends who were very casual and forth-coming with details of their sex lives. I knew a vibrator was a standard sex toy. My best friend, Catelyn, had laughed gleefully at my expense, entertained by my look of surprise, when she had graphically explained the process to me. The next day, I had been shocked to find she purchased one for my very own.
It was still in the packaging, tucked away in the back of my closet, where Mama wouldn't be able to find it. We were close, but I cringed at the thought of discussing masturbation tips with Mama any time soon.
Gwion had stared at me in the mirror with his ridiculously sexy smirk, waiting for my reply. It was as if he was testing my boldness and willingness to freely talk back to him. As intriguing and mysterious as he was, Mama had taught me not to be intimidated by any man. Emboldened by his attention and in the spirit of fun, I had held his gaze steadily, and demurred a vague and open ended response, letting him decide what I might mean. My tactic seemed successful, if the surprise and satisfaction in his expression were any indication.
When we stopped at our destination, he held open a door, and I stepped into what appeared to be a music room – if the haphazardly scattered sheet music was any indication. There was an elegant seating area and bookshelves adorned the walls, but the crowning glory of the room was clearly the exquisite grand piano in the center.
Nodding toward the couch, he offered, "Please sit."
I eased onto its comfortable cushions.
He settled gracefully on the bench of the piano.
Oh...that was unexpected. He hadn't struck me as someone who would play the piano. Although, I guessed it stood to reason that if he dedicated an entire room to it, he might be able to. He didn't miss my look of surprise and asked wryly, "Do I not look like I would be capable of playing the instrument?"
"No! Um, it's just that..." I answered, stumbling over my words. I struggled to find a legitimate reason for my surprise, and finally gave up. I admitted a little sheepishly, "Well, okay...Yes."
"And pray tell, why?" He gazed at me intently.
Shit. I still couldn't come up with an answer that sounded good, so gave up and went with the truth, a slight blush creeping on my cheeks as I explained, "Your presence seems to scream more 'manly virility' than 'introspective musician'."
