May 27, 2012
Enticing Words
A Red Chamber Story
Enticing Words
By Sopphey Vance
She held his hand as they walked around the apartment bus stop toward her apartment. Their bodies grew close together as they neared her door. He locked their arms together, and their thighs vibrated with friction as she lead the way through the night.
He wasn’t her shining knight in armor, but he rode a bicycle. He wasn’t the well dressed programmer either. He sported his usual leather jacket and torn jeans. He wasn’t the sweet guy she last dated. He invoked unsettling feelings inside her. Those unsettling feelings were the root to their misguided situation. He told her his life story, of traveling with his motorcycle to Mexico and learning the art of motorcycle mechanics through rain and heat. He showed her photos of his latest travels and the enchantment grew.
They sat in the warmth of her apartment; her toes cozy against the carpet. He sat on the loveseat while she fetched a book of her writings. She turned to him; the mild yellow light crystallized his auburn hair into a delicate brown. She noticed the danger in his eyes. Raw, merciless feelings radiated from his pupils while his cheeks blushed.
She had him. It all started with her quick declaration of intent, then everything went according to plan. It was obvious that he found her attractive and she intended on tasting his attraction. She sat on the floor in front of him and flipped the book to a particular set of poems.
“Read this.” She commanded. She refrained from commenting on his rose-colored cheeks. As he read she imagined kissing the blushed flesh, it only made her cheeks burn in response. She stared as his face, the line of his jaw, and the apple of his neck. She saw his reaction immediately, and a small delight of feelings rose to her thoughts.
“I’m turned on.” He exclaimed without finesse. But, she didn’t care. He was her rebellion and she took her time entice him.
“I wrote it for a lover.” She quickly took the book from him. “He loved it as well.”
“I bet he did,” he took the bait. He leaned his face closer to hers, and she only leaned against the couch.
“I’ve had such a bad week at work. Nothing beats the pain in like constant dish washing for over four hours, in a warm room.” She wiggled her toes, knowing that he’d sympathize. “I’d really love a foot massage.”
“Let me.” He offered with the same confidence of knowing the game too well. He sat on the floor with her, his attention set on her feet.
“Thanks.” She murmured as he ran his hands over her ankles. He massaged her feet with skill, too. Careful not to push too hard, and gentle enough to relieve the pain. His hands worked a steady barrier into her plans. He finished his massage and they sat together doing nothing but revel in their mutual attraction.
He made the first move and turned to her. He ran a small trail down her arm with one hand, while the other held her hand. She closed her eyes, considering her approach. She could let him run the show and let his touch dominate the entire evening. Or she could do something.
He called her name, and her thinking halted. “Yes?” She quizzed him, her mouth half open in anticipation.
“There’s too much sexual frustration here.” His hand stops.
“Oh?”
“It’s not wise to have sexual frustration between friends.”
“Friends.” She repeated while her mind screamed of her desires for more than friendship.
“We’re friends?” He stared at her, knowing that she wanted more than friendship. Yet, he had a hunch that friendship wouldn’t be easy with her.
“We’re friends.” She stated and traced the curve of his rose-colored cheek with a finger. Her finger continued its path over to his ear, and around it to the back of his neck. “We’ll stay friends.” She whispered and leaned forward to kiss his ear lobe. The act sealed the path of their game. The power of her poems emerged through her lips.
He wrapped one arm around her. He unhooked her bra in two seconds. In shock, she pulled it off. He didn’t notice his reaction, his hand were on their next target. She stopped his hands, and pushed him back against the loveseat. She kissed him, taking his upper lip in between her lips. A low moan escaped his throat.
He broke the kiss and pushed her against the loveseat. Hi kneeled over her and brushed his lips over her lips. He ran his hands down her neck, and then back up again. He kissed her chin, the curve underneath her chin, and the erroneous delta where her cleavage sits.
She moaned a light and sincere sound like the song of a siren.
“Where’s the bed?” He said as his hands ran up and down her spine. “Or is here good.”
“In the other room.” She managed. His pants pulsed of an immediate need. A need she would stall as long as she could.
“Ok.” He stood up and helped her stand. He motioned for her to lead. She smiled and grabbed his hand. They walked into the other room. He zeroed in on the bed and sat down, waiting to devour her.
She laughed; she could only stand at the door for so long. She walked over to bed and sat next to him. She kissed him, slowly. He kissed back at the same speed, overpowering her lips, and ultimately picking up the pace. He pushed her down against the bed and ran his hands down her back. Then up again, creating a rhythm of possession over her.
She ran his hands down again, by passing her pants and undergarments. His hands cupped her bear flesh, then moved back up and traced her spine. He pulled at her shirt, and together they pulled it over her head. He pulled at her pants, and they pulled them off. She pulled at his shirt, and without struggle, he took it off. He pushed her against the bed as he pulled his pants and boxers down. He lay over her and moved his hands over her breasts.
He kneaded them, enacting small rivers of electricity through her. She moaned and called out his name. His body responded quickly. His pelvis rubbed over hers. His lips covered her nipples and suckled without pause. First one nipple then the other, until her moans grew hoarse. She nudged her legs open, while he his body found its way inside her. They held hands as their bodies merged.
Their lips found solace while their physical lust found destruction. His body rocked toward her while her body rocked toward his, creating a continuance of rhythm. Their bodies combined in those few seconds of bliss as they surpassed into ecstasy.
They lay next to each other. Her eyes half closed, his focused on hers.
“I’m just going to lay here.” She whispered while her eyes confessed sleep.
“I’ll lay here with you.” He said and watched her drift to sleep.
Read more stories by Lady Vance
May 20, 2012
When He Visits
A Red Chamber Story with a green chamber twist
When He Visits
By Lady Vance
He doesn’t call often. He hardly needs to with the abundance of women in his bed every night. I’ve heard the tales of how he single handedly slept with more than five and satisfied them thoroughly. He only seeks a woman once, yet he’s been to me at least six times over the last year.
The doorbell alerts me of his presence. I look around my spare bedroom, counting the tools of my trade.
I met him through one of his “girl friends,” I believe was her name Anya. Anya had to book an impromptu Party, she was having lunch with him near my day job, and so I swung by to drop off some invitations. He didn’t speak to me at all that day. But, hounded me with every detail of a Party the next day.
“Tanya,” he greets me as I open the door.
“Kevin,” I nod and lead him into the parlor.
I inherited my grandmother’s old house complete with parlors, balconies, and a ballroom. I only use the main parlor and the guest bedroom for guests. The rest remains a mystery to them; they’ve confessed that it adds to the excitement.
We make our way to my grandmother’s old piano. Weathered, unturned, and desolate it serves one purpose only. He pulls an envelope out of his suit and slides it over the piano to me. Unceremoniously, I open it, check the contents and nod.
“What is his name?” I murmur as I place the envelope back on the piano.
“Zak.” He mumbles and walks down the hall into the guest bedroom.
“Zak?” I call out, following a couple steps behind. Guests call the shots, house policy.
“He’s taller than me.” Kevin’s voice rises a few timbres. “Golden hair like the summer harvest.” He moves around the guest bedroom, finding all his favorite possessions in place.
The house keeps a guest’s favorite instruments in a labeled box. No guest shares, even if they’re married. Unwanted tools are discarded, I take all precautions.
Kevin stands in front of a strap-on. “I walked into the bathroom yesterday.” He picks it up and measures the length and girth. “Do you have something with less grooves and a bit smaller?” He said his back straight and his chest puffed out.
“Absolutely.” I step out of the guest bedroom into a neighboring room. I call out a size, he agrees, and I bring out his new playmate.
“Perfect.” He removes his blazer and drops it on the nightstand along with his watch. He kicks off his shoes then stands in front of the windowsill. “Zak is a bit lanky, just like you.” He leans forward and peers at the scene outside. It’s the perfect mix of stars and clouds.
Kevin leans one arm over the window frame and places the other on his hip. He closes his eyes and sighs. I tie the strap-on over my tights and shirt. I walk behind him, in character.
“I want you.” The customary phrase indicates the start of the evening. I smile and run my hands down the crisp material of his shirt. I massage his arms with a mild force, exuding the masculine touch. He whimpers and leans his forehead over his arm.
I run my hands up and down his sides. Careful not to stray to his chest or backside. I increase the speed every time I go up. His breath quickens and I move my hands faster. He’s nearly panting, a hand moves over his chest.
“The things you do...”
My hand massages his nipple through his shirt. He moans over the windowsill, his rear pushes against the length of the toy. His toned backside rubs against it, aching to feel the hardness inside of him. I move the toy in between clothed taut posterior.
“Ohf,” His hands move over the defined edges of his back muscles. I put my hands on my hips, steadying the rhythm of ‘Zak’s love.’
His hands move around to undo his belt. His pants and drawers fall down. I move Zak’s love in between the naked flesh, slowly letting it absorb Kevin’s heat. I pull away from Kevin for a split second to check the warmth of the plastic.
Kevin squirms in place. I reach onto the nightstand to find the house’s preheated tasty liquid. I add a few drops of it to the tip, and approach Kevin again.
He whimpers as I slowly place the tip to his opening. “Yes, fuck,” he moans deeply. I push the tip in a bit, and then pull it out. Every time I push in, I go in a little deeper. I feel his muscles relax and the toy go in with ease.
“Now.” He groans, a tinge of despair in his voice.
I pull out and add some more liquid. I rub it gently to cover the whole end. Kevin leans forward, his hands on the windowsill and his legs bent leaving complete access to Zak’s love.
I take a deep breath. By instinct, I push in slow and pull out. In then out, giving his muscles time to welcome it. He doesn’t protest, he only moans with a unique patience of trust. I keep the rhythm steady, focusing on the ease of entry. Intuition born out of practice.
‘Zak’ makes love to him, each movement causing a wave of new life. His moans are a wave of delectable trance. His breath stops completely, then his body jerks and his body pants to a conclusion.
“You’re wonderful.” I pull in and out a couple of more rounds, then pull out completely. I take off the strap on and leave it on the bed.
Like most nights, Kevin finishes undressing. He lies on the bed with the night’s chosen partner. He lies on the bed, runs his hands over his body. Slowly captivating the newfound enchantment with each touch. His lips touch the tip of the toy, licking the mix of his taste and the liquid.
Kevin fondles his erect self while he licks the toy. He licks, sucks, and moans as his hand moves in a frenzy.
He calls out Zak’s name one last time as he indulges in a second wave of euphoria. He lies there naked, a strap on in his mouth, and a satisfied customer.
Read more stories by Lady Vance
When He Visits
By Lady Vance
He doesn’t call often. He hardly needs to with the abundance of women in his bed every night. I’ve heard the tales of how he single handedly slept with more than five and satisfied them thoroughly. He only seeks a woman once, yet he’s been to me at least six times over the last year.
The doorbell alerts me of his presence. I look around my spare bedroom, counting the tools of my trade.
I met him through one of his “girl friends,” I believe was her name Anya. Anya had to book an impromptu Party, she was having lunch with him near my day job, and so I swung by to drop off some invitations. He didn’t speak to me at all that day. But, hounded me with every detail of a Party the next day.
“Tanya,” he greets me as I open the door.
“Kevin,” I nod and lead him into the parlor.
I inherited my grandmother’s old house complete with parlors, balconies, and a ballroom. I only use the main parlor and the guest bedroom for guests. The rest remains a mystery to them; they’ve confessed that it adds to the excitement.
We make our way to my grandmother’s old piano. Weathered, unturned, and desolate it serves one purpose only. He pulls an envelope out of his suit and slides it over the piano to me. Unceremoniously, I open it, check the contents and nod.
“What is his name?” I murmur as I place the envelope back on the piano.
“Zak.” He mumbles and walks down the hall into the guest bedroom.
“Zak?” I call out, following a couple steps behind. Guests call the shots, house policy.
“He’s taller than me.” Kevin’s voice rises a few timbres. “Golden hair like the summer harvest.” He moves around the guest bedroom, finding all his favorite possessions in place.
The house keeps a guest’s favorite instruments in a labeled box. No guest shares, even if they’re married. Unwanted tools are discarded, I take all precautions.
Kevin stands in front of a strap-on. “I walked into the bathroom yesterday.” He picks it up and measures the length and girth. “Do you have something with less grooves and a bit smaller?” He said his back straight and his chest puffed out.
“Absolutely.” I step out of the guest bedroom into a neighboring room. I call out a size, he agrees, and I bring out his new playmate.
“Perfect.” He removes his blazer and drops it on the nightstand along with his watch. He kicks off his shoes then stands in front of the windowsill. “Zak is a bit lanky, just like you.” He leans forward and peers at the scene outside. It’s the perfect mix of stars and clouds.
Kevin leans one arm over the window frame and places the other on his hip. He closes his eyes and sighs. I tie the strap-on over my tights and shirt. I walk behind him, in character.
“I want you.” The customary phrase indicates the start of the evening. I smile and run my hands down the crisp material of his shirt. I massage his arms with a mild force, exuding the masculine touch. He whimpers and leans his forehead over his arm.
I run my hands up and down his sides. Careful not to stray to his chest or backside. I increase the speed every time I go up. His breath quickens and I move my hands faster. He’s nearly panting, a hand moves over his chest.
“The things you do...”
My hand massages his nipple through his shirt. He moans over the windowsill, his rear pushes against the length of the toy. His toned backside rubs against it, aching to feel the hardness inside of him. I move the toy in between clothed taut posterior.
“Ohf,” His hands move over the defined edges of his back muscles. I put my hands on my hips, steadying the rhythm of ‘Zak’s love.’
His hands move around to undo his belt. His pants and drawers fall down. I move Zak’s love in between the naked flesh, slowly letting it absorb Kevin’s heat. I pull away from Kevin for a split second to check the warmth of the plastic.
Kevin squirms in place. I reach onto the nightstand to find the house’s preheated tasty liquid. I add a few drops of it to the tip, and approach Kevin again.
He whimpers as I slowly place the tip to his opening. “Yes, fuck,” he moans deeply. I push the tip in a bit, and then pull it out. Every time I push in, I go in a little deeper. I feel his muscles relax and the toy go in with ease.
“Now.” He groans, a tinge of despair in his voice.
I pull out and add some more liquid. I rub it gently to cover the whole end. Kevin leans forward, his hands on the windowsill and his legs bent leaving complete access to Zak’s love.
I take a deep breath. By instinct, I push in slow and pull out. In then out, giving his muscles time to welcome it. He doesn’t protest, he only moans with a unique patience of trust. I keep the rhythm steady, focusing on the ease of entry. Intuition born out of practice.
‘Zak’ makes love to him, each movement causing a wave of new life. His moans are a wave of delectable trance. His breath stops completely, then his body jerks and his body pants to a conclusion.
“You’re wonderful.” I pull in and out a couple of more rounds, then pull out completely. I take off the strap on and leave it on the bed.
Like most nights, Kevin finishes undressing. He lies on the bed with the night’s chosen partner. He lies on the bed, runs his hands over his body. Slowly captivating the newfound enchantment with each touch. His lips touch the tip of the toy, licking the mix of his taste and the liquid.
Kevin fondles his erect self while he licks the toy. He licks, sucks, and moans as his hand moves in a frenzy.
He calls out Zak’s name one last time as he indulges in a second wave of euphoria. He lies there naked, a strap on in his mouth, and a satisfied customer.
Read more stories by Lady Vance
May 17, 2012
April 13, 2012
April 8, 2012
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