Year of the Inner Goddess

January 2026 – Audia Version – Listen Here

Have you ever been undone by moonlight… not merely seen it, but felt it settle upon the skin, pale and unyielding, as though the night itself had chosen a single, perfect point of focus? The way her light quiets the world, drawing the eye upward and the breath inward, until even thought softens beneath her dominion.

And then…
Smoke.

Not sudden. Never abrupt.
It arrives as memory does: slowly, deliberately, curling into the spaces moonlight leaves behind. It does not rush toward her brilliance, but drifts along its edges, dark and deliberate, a masculine hush that understands the power of waiting.

Imagine them together.

Moonlight pouring down like a held benediction.
Smoke threading through it, darkening and deepening her glow.
Shadow and silver braided so closely they seem to breathe.

It was there…within that argent suspension, that cimmerian stillness…that I found myself.

Not arriving.

Not announced.

But drawn into being.

I was Breath.

Sapphire-dark and reverent, an awed exhale given form. I did not disrupt their familiarity; I moved within it, a soft stirring in the luminous air Diana commanded so effortlessly. Smoke already knew her…knew the cadence of her light, the way she ruled without insistence. Their intimacy was old, unhurried, written in the quiet ease of bodies that no longer needed to ask.

I lingered at the margins of that knowing, felt rather than seen, learning the shape of them by the way the air warmed when I passed, by the subtle way Moonlight seemed to soften and Smoke paused…as though listening.

As always, the Goddess Diana took charge without ever seeming to claim it. Authority clung to her the way moonlight caresses marble…not imposed, not questioned, simply true. She moved with that quiet certainty that never needed to announce itself, and I, predictably, answered her presence with my familiar ungainliness.

I offered her my devotion in stumbling measures…shoulders unsure, limbs a half-beat behind intention…like breath forgetting its own rhythm, toppling over itself in tiny, graceless waves. I hovered too close, then retreated, only to feel my shin collide with the bedframe. A mortal faltering mid-step, possessed of all the inelegance of someone very much not born to divinity.

I was spectacularly awkward. Every attempt at seduction seemed to triple my clumsiness, until I felt less like a goddess and more like a fledgling bird flapping desperately for its first, ungainly flight.

Beneath my fumbling, my Inner Goddess rolled her eyes, exasperated but undeterred. She pressed against my ribs, restless, cloying, having spent the whole day pacing impatiently behind my mortal shell. “Really?” she grumbled, as I stumbled again…fingers brushing air instead of Diana, shoulders bumping where they should not, hair tangling in the most inconvenient places. And yet, with each misstep, I murmured reassurance to her, that even the most stammering of breaths, if coaxed just right, can swell and bloom… until they are moans.

Diana never hurried me.

She never needed to.

Her patience was eternal, a calm that made space rather than demands. Fingers brushed the sapphire fall of my hair from my shoulder, and her mouth followed…first the softest press of lips, then the faintest suggestion of teeth…until a low, silvered laugh spilled warm against my throat, loosening some of my contained apprehension inside me.

Her touch, when it turned purposeful, knowing, and skilled.
Never rushed.
Never greedy.

She undressed me as one might undo a spell…slowly, with care…until the world itself seemed to slacken. Fabric surrendered. Time thinned. The weight of daylight slipped away. I reclined upon the broad bed like an offering left beneath the starry sky, veiled only in a peach-hued whisper of lace and spider-silk, so insubstantial it felt imagined, like a dream recalled only by sensation.

Enwrapped in each other’s embrace, the Goddess Diana and I became a closed circuit of femininity and sensuality. The music pulsed beneath us, low and hypnotic, and my body answered before thought could intervene. I arched and sighed as though remembering an older language, one spoken not in words but in breath and yielding.

Diana’s hands traced me…cool as moonstone at first, a reverent chill…then gradually warmed as they learned me again. the hollow of collarbone, the curve of breast, the swell of hip. Each pass left a ghostly wake behind it, as light dragged slowly across water, lingering long after she moved, bending the air to memory.

And I…the Breath…felt Diana’s devotion threading through me, lifting me from the edges of my usual clumsiness. Each brush of her lips, each soft sigh, steadied my faltering motions. Gradually, the awkwardness melted away.

My shoulders straightened. My hips found their own deliberate sway. Fingers that had fumbled now traced over the goddess with intent, eyes that had darted now held Diana’s gaze. Warmth pooled in my core, spreading outward…thrilling, wanton, impossible to contain. Breath no longer faltered; it flowed with purpose, carrying the slow, knowing rhythm of desire. I arched, I swayed, I moved with the confidence I had kept buried beneath the weight of responsibilities.

But now… now I was Breath, and my Inner Goddess claimed her throne. She rose, imperial and commanding, intoxicated by the night’s possibilities, every nerve and every thought a spark, every movement a declaration. I was no longer merely a witness to desire…I was its pulse, its tide, its flame, and the air itself seemed to yield to me.

Diana’s hands were everywhere at once, and nowhere else but exactly where they should be…tracing, teasing, drawing me into her orbit like moonlight bending over a midnight lake. She laid me back upon the bed, my body pliant beneath her, every curve exposed to the sweep of her touch. Lithe, molten, I felt the delicious elongation of each limb, the subtle sway of my breath as I flowed, pliant and yielding, into the glow of her radiance.

Her fingers parted my thighs with the ease of moonlight sliding over shadow, pulling aside the coral veil that had dared to obscure me. Her rumble was low and liquid, spilling across my exposed folds. Diana took her time, licking broad then sweeping, like tides across shore, erasing the weight of every day, every care. Her mouth mapped me with bewitchment and precision; when her silver tongue probed the most sacred curves of my pearl, I felt my body ignite.

A wash of euphoria rolled through every nerve, bright and blinding. Muscles grew taut, singing beneath her brilliance, each fiber alight with longing. Fingers dug into the soft yielding of the bedding, arching me from the plush mattress, rising as though pulled by some invisible tide, every exhale trembling into a gasp, every heartbeat pounding with the exquisite burn of surrender.

Breath and Moonlight tangled, mingled, became one in the ache and the fire…lifted, claimed, spiraling. I became air-light, flowing, responding, consumed by the delicate, unfailing devotion of her hands and lips, which held the space between my thighs as if it were the only truth in the world.

And then…

Smoke.

He did not announce himself. He did not intrude or force himself.

He was simply there…a presence reclining into the bed as though he had always belonged to it. Quiet. Potent. A masculine gravity that bent the air without disturbing it. He observed with glittering eyes, granting us a moment, a space, yet each second of his stillness was charged, more provocative than any overt movement could have been.

When he finally moved, positioning himself behind the Goddess, it was seamless…an insinuation rather than an intrusion. Broad, weathered hands found Diana first, reverent in their roughness, as though Smoke itself had learned how to worship. She received him without hesitation, a soft intake of breath, dark curls spilling over her shoulder, lips parting…full, lunar, and undone. Every motion between them was fluid, a silent conversation written in touch, in the weight of hands, in the subtle incline of her body toward his.

Moonlight and Smoke began to play.

They threaded through one another…her pale radiance shifting, his shadowed heat deepening…until the boundaries blurred, until I could no longer tell where one ended and the other began. Diana’s face remained between my thighs, her breath hot and insistent against my sensitive flesh. Mesmerized, I watched them move and flow together, and then, inexorably, I was drawn into the current…caught between curl and glow, suspended in a consuming magic.

And then it happened: Moonlight, Smoke, and Breath…all at once. Multiple hands traced the length of my thighs, slid down my calves, and drew me upward into a rising tide of sensation. My eyes opened in the dip of euphoria to see Smoke behind Diana…one knee bent upon the mattress, the other leg planted, his body leaning into hers, moving with a slow, inexorable rhythm. There was no brute carnality here, only an unspeakable, elemental flow.

Diana moaned against me, her body rocking in time with him, her dark curls brushing my stomach, her heat spilling over me. And I…folding my hands behind my head, losing myself in the curl of Moonlight and Smoke…found my own pleasure suspended in the rhythm of their devotion, every nerve alight, every breath mingling with theirs, carried on the tide of an intimacy that was fluid, eternal, and impossible to resist.

In the next moment, I found myself wrapped in Diana’s arms, my tongue swirling over her hardened nipple, face buried happily in the creamy depths of her ravishing breast. Each breath I drew was laced with her warmth, her scent, the heady friction of her skin beneath my lips, while her fingers pressed insistently into me, the pad of her thumb teasing my pearl, and I lost myself entirely in her enfolding.

And then Smoke turned his attention to me, his presence folding around my thighs, face descending with knowing, attentive purpose. Even now, I feel the memory…the tilt of my hip, the clench of my thighs…remembering the surges of rapture that coursed through me under his skilled worship. He was neither vicious nor brutish, as some men might be; nor shy or unpracticed. He was keen, attuned, a dark current of heat and gravity, and with Moonlight holding me in her arms, I surrendered fully, moaning and crying in the language of sensation alone.

All the while, Diana lavished me with attention, her hands, lips, and warmth moving over me in tandem with Smoke, a tide of indulgence that carried me upward. I floated…no longer merely Breath, but a living confluence of desire, sensation, and wanton delight, a body and spirit braided in the flow of Moonlight and Smoke, utterly aflame, utterly alive.

The room itself seemed to hold its breath, suspended in a hush that belonged neither to day nor night. Moonlight pooled across silken sheets, glinting pale over the curve of a shoulder, the hollow of a thigh, tracing the glimmer of sweat and skin as if the air itself were liquid light. Shadows from Smoke’s presence deepened and softened in tandem, curling around us without pressure, without claim, a dark counterpoint to the luminous, gliding radiance of Diana. 

Music…low, undulating, hypnotic…throbbed through the space, syncing with every heartbeat, every sigh, every tremor of touch. The scent of heated skin mingled with the faint trace of coral fabric and lingering candle smoke, a heady, dizzying perfume that made the world outside fade to nothing. Time had no meaning here; there was no urgency, no need for a climax or a conclusion. Only the undulating, sinuous rhythm of bodies and breath, the slow, deliberate weaving of three currents…Moonlight, Smoke, and Breath…entwined in their own private eternity.

Smoke lay sprawled across the bed, every line of his body humming with quiet, potent heat. Diana knelt beside him, one hand wrapped around his firm, commanding cock as her mouth traced him with deliberate, sinuous devotion, dark curls spilling like a shadowed waterfall over his hip and thigh. Her lips glided and lingered, moving with a rhythm both tender and insistent, a private rite that drew every nerve into sharp, trembling awareness.

Smoke’s chin lifted, eyes half-lidded, breath ragged, muscles corded and strung taut with tension, yet even in his own rising fire, his fingers worshiped her in return…tracing the hollow of her shoulder, following the swell of her spine, lingering with the slow adoration of one memorizing a sacred form. The ruby glow of the room wrapped them in a private world, every movement a whispered communion, every shiver a silent benediction. In that suspended hush, desire and reverence twined, and I…still Breath…felt the pull of their shared gravity, the irresistible sway of something far older and more elemental than mere flesh.

Sitting just to the side, I watched, spellbound, caught in the rarefied architecture of touch and gaze…the ebb and flow of two bodies in seamless communion. His breath hitched with each glide of her lips, her head bobbed in fluid, measured cadence, and the glint of her saliva caught the crimson light as it glinted off the swelling crown of him. My presence felt small, almost ethereal, a breath hovering just beyond the edge of their heat…drinking in every flick, every slick glide, every murmur and gasp of pleasure. The ruby light softened edges, gilded curves and shadows, and I found myself aching to memorize every suspended instant, to etch the ritual into memory, to dwell wholly in the molten, palpitant awe of it all.

Shaking myself lightly, chastising the wide-eyed awe that had pinned me still, I crawled across the bed, settling to straddle one of Smoke’s thighs. Coral filigree had slipped from me, and I could only assume Diana had whisked it away with some quiet, knowing magic. Lowering myself, I allowed the warmth and wetness of my folds to brush against his skin, a subtle announcement of the stirring arousal the scene before me had wrought.

Diana continued her ministrations without pause, and I bent to join her, tracing and tasting the heavy, glistening orbs before me. The faint, musk-laden scent of him rose into my senses, and my Inner Goddess moaned, pressing insistently against my ribs, her impatience now a delicious insistence. I delighted myself with meticulous care, taking one jewel into my mouth, swirling it with languid precision, and then releasing it with soft grace, fingers stroking the breadth of his thighs and hips. Every movement was a slow, sensuous concord with Diana, a threefold current of heat, light, and breath flowing as one.

And then it was my turn to adore, to acquaint myself with his cock…stout, long, straining beneath my hands. My Inner Goddess pressed, and I surrendered to her guidance. I opened my throat and explored, tracing the map of thick veins and swelling muscle, noting the subtle tightening of his thighs with each glide of my lips and tongue. From the corner of my eye, I glimpsed Diana’s lips pressing into his skin, her attention elsewhere, and I marveled at the way my throat, my body, my very being responded, ablaze with rising fire. I exulted in my own audacity, testing limits, taking him deeper, fingers curling possessively around his jewels as I studied him, learning the contours and swell of flesh within the confines of my mouth.

Diana moved around us like liquid argent, her eyes and lips ever close, a teasing shadow and glow upon the incandescent hush of the bedroom. When she whispered, a low, chime-like murmur, coaxing me to share, I inclined him toward her, fingers still clutching the base, guiding our motions into a slow, interwoven cadence. Our tongues danced across the warm, quivering length, a triad of heat, light, and gravity…Goddess, Breath, and Smoke entwined, spiraling through one another in an intoxicating, molten convergence of power, radiance, and flesh.

Sitting back on my heels, I watched in a daze, barely remembering to close my mouth…trying not to resemble a codfish gawking at the sweltering beauty before me. I tried not to betray my awe as her majestic bosom rose and fell with the swell of her body, each movement a sensuous negotiation of muscle and desire. Diana shifted over him like liquid moonlight, sliding along his length, grasping and aligning him before impaling herself. She paused, a heartbeat suspended in time, and then her body rose and fell again, carrying them both in a timeless, sinuous communion of heat and shadow.

“Ride him.”

I repeated her whispered instruction in my mind, tasting its weight, feeling my Inner Goddess stir…ancient, murmuring, and insistent. I made certain Smoke was amenable…and indeed, a vigorous tilt of his head answered me. Nestled against Moonlight’s rise and fall, I lowered myself over his face, my back brushing hers, body balanced on thighs and knees, hovering, yet fully drawn into the ardent warmth beneath me. I ached for the tongue not yet granted, a low thrum of want coiling in my core. I dipped lower, rolling my hips forward and back with the tender searching insistence of his tongue, fingers buried in the thick chocolate locks between my thighs, every nerve afire, every shiver a current building upon the next.

My heart nearly stopped when Diana’s ravishing face hovered inches from mine, an errant curl brushing my cheek as she whispered, almost a command, “Drowned him.”

The instruction nearly shattered the last of the restraints barely holding back my floodgates, but it freed something far older, far wilder. My Inner Goddess surged, leaping and jubilant, untamed and unshackled. I was Breath incarnate…untethered, sovereign, a tempest of desire and fire pressing against every fiber of me. Heat pulsed through my veins like wind scouring smoldering embers, alive and infinite. We were ancient, unstoppable, elemental: a triad of flesh, shadow, and moonlight, each movement igniting the next in a slow, furious conflagration of sensation.

The words spilled from my lips without thought: “Poor mortal man.” I mindlessly wondered if he would survive us. Mindlessly, I rocked my hips with abandon until my body shuddered, arches breaking, until the climax swept me prostrate, quivering over the bed, breath ragged, shaken with my own momentum. I was Breath – jubilant.

When Diana bid me turn and face her, I obeyed without hesitation, fully attuned to the luminous pull of her presence. I straddled Smoke once more, this time pressing myself against her, wrapping my arms around Moonlight’s exquisite body, drawing her face to mine, letting our breaths, our heat, our essences mingle. Fingers threaded through her dark curls, deepening our embrace, binding us in a slow, elemental communion. We were infinite atop him. The Goddess governed his cock, rising and impaling. Facing her, I rode him nearly to suffocation. We were unstoppable.

And then it was my turn…to ride him, to let myself flow fully, and every fiber of me ached with anticipation. My body tightened, muscles coiling and quivering as I straddled his hips, dripping with the electric hunger of a goddess discovering her own power. I lowered myself onto him, supple and yielding, ripe with desire, molten and feminine, every curve of me pressing, molding, claiming.

The sensation was nearly impossible to restrain. The beast within me rumbled, craving dominance, aching to press, to stretch, to conquer. My body embraced the fullness, senses aflame, every nerve igniting in the exquisite tension of new heat, new weight, new presence beneath me. I wanted to surrender entirely to the magnetic current coursing through every cell, to let the floodgates break and carry me away…but the moment was tender, tentative, soft, not yet claiming everything, and I hesitated, mindful of the new god beneath me, unsure of his proclivities, unwilling to drench his only bed with my overflow.

I clenched, coiled my power around my inner fire, pulling it back, letting it thrash and hum beneath the surface. And still, when euphoria struck, it hit like lightning. My body shivered and convulsed, pulsing against him, muscles taut and trembling, my breath ragged, and I let out half-apologetic, half-lost cries into the electricity of the air. My eyes remained closed, drowning in sensation, as my limbs shuddered over him, and Diana’s hands roamed across my spine, shoulders, and hips, guiding, caressing, grounding, a steady moonlight anchoring the tempest of Breath.

We moved as one, a tide of bodies, curves, and shadows, entwined in slow, fluid devotion. Kisses devoured and lingered, breaths mingling against skin, Smoke a shadowed current beneath us, Moonlight tracing the arches and hollows of every curve. There was nothing frantic, nothing feral…only the quiet, molten intimacy of presence.

I knelt on hands and knees, hips lifted, and yet his mouth found me with deliberate ardor, tracing the center of me with a careful, attentive hunger. He explored, mapping and tasting me yet again with unmeasured abandon. I was fully exposed, vulnerable in the most blushing manner, yet I found myself pushing back, greedy for the press and pull of his tongue, the way his attention drew me taut and free at once. Breath, Moonlight, and Smoke wove through the room, through us, a living, spiraling current of heat.

Then Diana was beneath me, and I felt myself drink in the full measure of her godly presence, floating in her orbit as though pulled by some secret lunar tide. She produced, with a flourish that seemed conjured from the air itself, a long, supple device, each end gently rounded, the width a little more than the breadth of two fingers, with a subtle, sensuous curve to it. She moistened the tip between my folds, lingering in a slow, deliberate tease, tracing me with it before plunging within, then withdrawing…again and again…as I quivered, suspended above her, every nerve singing, every breath caught in the exquisite tension of anticipation. In that impossible moment, it was only her and me, the world contracted, fire thrumming deep within me, a craving growing…urgent, impossible, insatiable.

Time stretched and softened, each instant steeped in a languid reverie. My senses drank in Diana’s vulnerable, bowed neck, the shiver at the sinful of her lip, her pale hands clutching the bed linens, dark curls haloed around her like some sacred shadow. Smoke’s muscles tensed and flexed beneath her, attuned to every undulation, knowing when to hasten and when to linger, guiding her limbs, adjusting her angles with a silent, intimate knowledge, eyes catching the mischievous smile dancing at the corner of her mouth as her body quivered and broke around him.

And then, at last, we rested together on the bed…nibbling chocolates and blueberries, murmuring soft laughter into the warm hush of the room. Hours could have slipped by unnoticed. My heart soared as I lay there, the three of us unguarded, bodies bare, entwined, the air thick with quiet delight. Even as I dressed, the memory clung to my skin, replaying like whispered enchantments, each pulse of heat and sensation pinned carefully away. And as I drove away, I carried the knowledge that the night had been an odyssey of senses, a sinuous prelude to whatever dark delights waited at my journey’s end.

Until next time, XO. Elsie