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The Rougher Explicit Collection of Stories Box Set Compilation

Page 120

by Amira Bradford


  As he walked through the market and passed through the archway into the Muntz district he noticed Karanan men rubbing shoulders with Tamrainian's; those who they would have killed only a week before hand. He smiled and inclined his head at a few well dressed ladies as he walked by, pondering the confusions of the war he had so recently fought in. He continued to ponder the futility of the past strife as he walked through the district, which was also decorated with green and yellow ribbons. He climbed the steep hill that was the east side of the Muntz and passed through into Tyseley. The houses here became larger and he knew he was nearing the parks that surrounded the tower dedicated to the Spring Goddess. The streets were distinctly more crowded as well, elaboratly dressed people clad in the colours of the Lady, as well as the red and white of Karana mixed with the blue emblem of Tamrain, spilled out of the pubs and lined the streets.

  There were more than a few drunken soldiers... ex-soldiers, along the streets, being hugged by a group of young women, little more than girls. He smiled again as he passed them, having decided to not use the excuse that he was a soldier, and therefore a hero, to get attention from them. He finally crossed through into the parks, walking under another well decorated archway strewn with yet more ribbons and flowers. There were a lot of people on the large lawn, relaxing in the warm spring sunshine. It looked like the entire east side of the city has turned out to see the parade put on for the goddess. He had already missed that particular event but had agreed to meet a friend anyway. He walked onto the grass and crossed it, taking the most direct route to the tower which dominated the large lawn. He pushed his dark hair out of his face and gathered his strength. He could not help but wonder what was required of him on the day of the Spring Lady. He passed another group of middle aged merchants and nodded as he did so, they raised their wine glasses in his direction and he let out a laugh and a salute.

  He turned to the tower and spotted a young woman waving enthusiastically at him. He raised his arm and walked swiftly over to her. "Hello Valentine." she smiled.

  "Sylvia." he nodded.

  "Leantris watch over you." she said, placing a hand on his left shoulder in blessing. "Thank you for coming to see me at such a time."

  "Anything for you." he replied. "How can I help you?"

  "Please, come inside and I will explain everything to you." he gave her a puzzled look but she shook her head and lead him into the tower. The soft green light that the outside of the tower radiated at this time of year did not penetrate through to the inside, which was sparsely decorated. He was led along a carpetless stone hallway, through to the back of the tower where the initiates lived. Although he knew Sylvia was no initiate, she obviously still had her rooms at the back of the tower on the ground level, rather than with the other fully initiated members of her Order. She pulled a large key from underneath her home spun woollen gown and unlocked the door. She ushered him inside, closed and locked the door behind him. He took a look around and found that he was in a sparsely decorated room, much like his own Order's back in Quillia. There was a small simply carved wooden table with two chairs around it. In the centre of the table was a vase containing a single green rose. There was a double bed in one corner of the room and a set of shelves against the opposite wall.

  "Please, take a seat." she urged, sitting herself on the one opposite him. He did so and folded his hands in his lap, shifting about a little.

  "How can I help you?" he asked eventually.

  "I have a very sensitive issue that I am hoping that you can help me solve." she said.

  "I see." he nodded, "You understand there is a strict code to what I do?" Sylvia sighed and stood up, she crossed over to the shelves and took down two glasses and a wine bottle.

  "I was hoping to keep this off the records." she evaded, pouring out two glasses of red wine and handing one to Valentine. She pushed her long mousy hair out of her face and regarded him with her bright blue eyes.

  "What I do is always off the public record."

  "I mean just between you and I." she replied.

  "Could be problematic." he replied, "There are very strict rules."

  "I don't need anyone killing Valentine."

  "So what do you want." he frowned, sipping the warm liquid.

  "What do you know of me?" she asked, evading his question.

  "Well now." he smiled, "Apart from following Leantris, you are married to Rasputin, you're a fine healer and an easy woman to get on with." he surmised.

  "And you cannot see a problem with this?"

  "No." he shrugged, taking another draft of the wine, feeling the Thorian spirits flow through his blood. He instantly knew that it was fortified alchemically, but he did not know what with.

  "I serve the Lady of Life, I follow her mind and soul and am bound to do her will where ever I go. I am unable to do so on the most basic level." she said, her tone rising as she spoke.

  "Is there something lacking?" he asked, feeling the warmth flow throughout his body, feeling the warmth spread down from his stomach and through his legs, he even felt his toes tingle slightly.

  "Children,"

  "How so?"

  "Stop being deliberately dense Valentine." she sighed, draining her glass and refilling it, "Rasputin is a Necromancer. There is nothing wrong in... that... department." she said, flicking her eyes over him as she spoke, "However, he is unable to father children."

  "So that rumour is true!" he said.

  "Yes."

  "Working with the dead makes you sterile." he nodded, "Where do I fit into this equation then?" he asked as she refilled his glass. She did not answer him but lowered her eyes to the floor as she flushed scarlet. "Oh." Valentine nodded. "It will only lead to trouble."

  "He never has to know." she replied, running her slender leg against his under the table. He felt fire at her touch and he smiled at her.

  "It must stay between the two of us, no one can ever know of this, ever. No matter what happens this has to stay secret." he said, despite the lurch of desire he suddenly felt. "If you attempt to reveal this child is mine, I shall deny you. You have to understand this." she frowned for a moment as he spoke, "This is not an insult to the Lady but in order to protect my identity. I cannot have claims of a bastard child while I am working for the Order of the White Rose. For both your sakes."

  "I understand. This child will not be yours but mine and my husbands." she replied. "We will not speak of it after tonight."

  "What did you put in the wine?" he asked

  "Pardon?" she frowned.

  "What did you put in the wine?" he repeated

  "It's just Thorian grape." she said innocently.

  "Come here." he smiled. She nervously walked over to where the assassin sat and stood in front of him. He took her hand and placed it on his crotch. She let out an indecorous squeak as she felt the hardness through his soft loose pants. He resisted moaning as she brushed her hand against him tentatively. Not moving her hand away but preferring to touch him as he spoke again, "I am no stranger to the ways of woman, and am by no means unwilling to do as you ask. However, I do know that what you are touching does not all come from me."

  "It's alchemically enhanced," she smiled, rubbing his length through the material, "It was in case you were more unsure."

  "You drugged me." he sighed as her other hand came round and worked at his belt buckle.

  "Only a little." she shrugged.

  She pushed him back in his chair and undid his belt. He felt his deft little hands on his cock as she worked it loose from his clothing. She knelt between his legs with her arms resting on his thighs, and took his already hard cock into her soft mouth. Her hand curled around his firm balls and gave them a firm squeeze in turn. He felt her deft little tongue explore the smooth head of his cock. He pushed his hands through her long hair and he let himself relax as she continued to explore his shaft with her tongue. He jumped a little as he felt her nails grip his soft sack and she moved her head back and forth along his shaft. He began pushing
against her as she moved and he felt his cock swell into her mouth, encouraging her to continue her movement against his with a brush against her cheek.

  She withdrew from his shaft to his slight disappointment and replaced her hand around his cock. He felt her mouth envelope one of his balls, suckling on the sack as her hand pumped his shaft. Her firm tongue rolled around his sack before she released it and picked up the other one. He felt his head roll back and he bit his lip as she began lashing against his shaft once again. "Sylvia..." he muttered and she brought her head up with a smile.

  He lifted her up and placed him on her lap so that she straddled him. He hurriedly moved her skirts so that they were on his chest and he gripped her tight ass in his hands. He felt his shaft pushing against her under garments and she let out a small groan. Her lips suddenly pressed against his in urgency and he yielded, allowing her tongue access to his mouth. She tasted sweet, with the slight tang of his own flavour mingled with her own. He traced his slender hand down her front and began kneading at her small breast with one hand. He used his other to wind its way up her skirt and stroke her already moist under garments. She groaned as he pushed the damp cloth out of the way and used his tip to tease her quivering pussy. He felt her tongue tease his ear lobe and he moaned as she breathed heavily in his ear.

  Unable to prevent himself any further, he pushed his cock against her wet heat and groaned as she slid down his shaft. Sylvia gave a squeak as she settled herself around him and then pushed herself forward. He felt himself swell as she moved and he withdrew before slamming into her again. The delight of her grip around his shaft caused him to smile up at her, a smile which she returned before rocking back on her hips. Her soft centre yielded to his firm intrusion again and she groaned in encouragement.

  Knowing that she wanted this more than he did, he began thrusting upwards against her resisting warmth. He felt her slick liquid slide down his shaft as he began pumping back and forth. Her nails gripped him through his shirt and he felt his balls clench as he continued thrusting. He placed his hands on either side of her ass and lifted her weight up and down as he climbed upwards into her. She placed her head on his shoulder as he continued thrusting and he felt her breath come in rasps as he pushed into her deepest recesses. Her hair clouded his vision and he blew it out of his face as he slowed his thrusts.

  She sat up and gave him a puzzled look as he placed his firm hands around her waist. Her eyes went wide as the strong assassin picked her up as he arose and staggered over to the nearest wall. Her legs snaked around her waist and he drove her back against the wall as he renewed his thrusting in earnest. He heard her groans thick and fast in his ear as he shoved his engorged cock into her again.

  "Val..." she muttered as he felt her clench tightly around his swollen member. He watched her eyes roll back and she tightened her grip on him further. He felt her teeth sink into his shoulder through his thin white shirt and it nearly sent him over the edge. His already hard cock swelled further, to the point of being almost painful and he began pushing her against the wall wildly. He gasped in breath after breath and the sensations seemed to focus entirely on his tip. He felt her begin to shudder around him and he began to have spasms of his own.

  He let his head roll back as everything seemed to gather around his burning cock. He heard his heart beat loudly in his ears and he pushed forward as his erection swelled further. He felt his balls clench against his thighs as he let out a groan. Moments later his seed burst forward into the hot liquid of her heart. He rammed forward as he let forth a second and third pulse before a long shudder wracked through his body. Not willing to let him stop at that moment, Sylvia clenched herself around him and began shivering against him. He became aware of her load moans and held her against his slight form as her own orgasm took her. Her muscles clenched and unclenched against his still hard cock and he enjoyed the waves of heat it sent through him as she reached her climax. She shuddered one final time before turning to him and managing a weak smile.

  He held her against the wall for a moment before carrying her to the bed and laying her gently upon it. She kissed him but he pulled away from her with a sad smile. He brushed his lips against her forehead before pulling up his pants and refastening the belt. "I hope this works out for you." he whispered.

  "Can we do so again is not?" she asked contented for the momentarily

  "I don't think it a wise idea really." he replied. "But if you demand it of me, then I will oblige you." he added when he saw a frown cross her face.

  "Thank you." she said with a smile, reaching up to pat his hand.

  "I must be going." he whispered.

  "You won't stay even for a little while?"

  "I cannot." he replied, rising from the bed. She nodded in understanding at his unwillingness to stay and smiled again.

  "I am sure you remember the way out." she yawned.

  "Of course." he nodded, "I will see you again soon no doubt." he added before turning to the door. She nodded silently before he bowed his way out, wondering what kind of trouble he had got himself into now.

  The End.

  Looking For Love and Foucault

  "Remember, you have type 3 hair, so promise me you'll use a good conditioner, and don't borrow some other girl's," she said.

  "Okay, Mother, you can leave now, my hair and I will be fine."

  "And sweetie, the most important part of this year is rush. So start researching the sororities early, and focus on a few superior ones that you think you really have a good shot at."

  "Yes, Mama--"

  "And don't fall into the habit of snacking. The 'freshman 15' has doomed more girls' chances of getting that M.R.S. than drugs or getting you-know-what."

  "Okay, Mama! You can go--"

  "My little girl, gone to college--" she started to tear up.

  "Not here, Mother!" I said, getting more formal again.

  "Right," she said, and pulled herself together. Years of competition-- she had been Miss Low-Till Farming in 1977 and Miss Soybean in 1978, and I had been Miss Cledmore County and come in third at the state finals last year-- meant that she knew how to conquer her emotions and put on a brave face. "Have a wonderful time and find a wonderful boy, preferably pre-med or business school," she said, kissed me on the cheek, and then there was just the clacking of her heels down the hallway.

  I looked around my private room-- Mother had insisted on paying for one, she was very concerned that I not end up with a roommate who might stand in the way of landing the right husband. Well, considering how well she had done with Daddy, and Stepdaddy Jim, and Stepdaddy Brad, she could afford to give her little girl the very best. It didn't entirely have Mother's personal touch-- she hadn't had time to paint it dusty rose-- but it did look like a flower factory had exploded in here. That was her style, for sure.

  I unpacked some things and thought back, a little nostalgically, on my last few days in Croweville before moving up here to the university in Sparta. My last date with Trent had gone badly. He knew he was being dumped, that Mother wanted me to find someone more collegiate than a guy who was likely to work in his dad's body shop the rest of his life, so he tried to finally get me to do it with him.

  I got out of it, as usual, by giving him a BJ-- Mother had taught me early on that there were ways to keep a boy happy without risking a baby-- but as I worked on his thick, bumpy, stinky little pole until he splattered his goo onto the Kleenex I kept handy, I couldn't help but think that this was a pretty high price to pay just for having a boyfriend to go places with once in a while. Would sex with the future doctor husband of Mother's dreams be any more satisfying? Or would it just be the price I paid for the house and the cars and the trips, too?

  That night, as I lay in bed on my first night away from home, I thought about the path Mother had laid out for me-- for the first time, or at least it seemed like the first time. It was so simple, and it had worked for her so well, that I had never questioned it-- find the first husband, if things didn't work out encour
age him to have a fling by cutting him off in the bedroom, then catch him in the act, big settlement, find next husband, repeat as often as necessary. It sounded like a great plan, except for one thing-- what about love?

  Where did love fit into it? Where did finding your soulmate and growing old together come into it? Mother had nobody but me now, and now I was gone from her house, at least, if hardly her control. Was that how I saw myself, 20 years or so from today-- sending my girl off to college and coming home to a big, admittedly very big and nice, but empty home?

  Suddenly college was making me very sad, and scared.

  * * *

  The social life in a dorm is so busy in the first few weeks that I had no trouble meeting lots of boys. But there were so many of them and they were so much the same-- all bony elbows and pawing-- that I think my doubts started to show. I heard a couple of stray comments about "boring" or "stuck up" or "doesn't seem interested." And you know what, they were right. I was just kind of freaked out by the whole thing-- that I was supposed to look over all these young stud bulls and decide which one had the best earning potential for me, and then rope him and brand him. ("Ring by spring...")

  Meanwhile, I was kind of getting into the school part of college, believe it or not. High school work had always been easy for me, but for the first time I had professors who weren't just teaching to the dumbest kids in the class but actually forcing me to think, analyze things, use my head. Mother had always warned me about seeming too smart, that that rarely helped a girl get a man, but suddenly, smartness didn't seem such a liability, even if it was a surprise for them sometimes to hear something bright come out of a tall blonde with good beauty habits.

 

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