by DS Williams
Winter’s Kiss
By
DS Williams
©2012 All Rights Reserved
Also By DS Williams
Erotica:
Forbidden, The Darkness of Passion
Dirty Little Thoughts
Dirty Little Thoughts, Too
Darker Still
Erotic Art By DS Williams
Sex Crimes
Sex Crimes Book 2
For More Information Visit
www.DSWilliams.com
He walked out of his cave and shivered, beating his arms against around body to try and get the blood flowing again. His name was Xing although he was no longer sure if that was true. So many names over the years, so many lives he had lived that they seemed to merge and swirl like the snow all around him. Despite prodigious layers of furs draped over him his old frame was cold. That was the cruelty of living, when you finally get a good idea of how to do it you start to die. He chuckled at his own melancholy. That was not like him. The wind shifted the snow into swirls of living ice that danced around him seeming to lick at his furs in an attempt to draw out the last of his heat.
With a simple gesture and a quick thought he cast a small magic that made a small tornado of wind that sucked the drifting snow into it until it was a solid vortex of ice. He watched his creation as the ice shifted and swirled and danced for him. There was a day when he had awed the imperial court with such small tricks as though they were great magics that could change the world. He had, long ago, had the appearance trappings, and office of an important man. How strange he thought to himself that only now, standing alone, did he fully understand how little power he had there and how much he had here standing on the side of a mountain. Exile had been first cruel but then kind to him. Living where they assumed no mortal could live he stood now above the world looking out at the kingdoms of man before him. They were so small compared to everything he had thought of them.
He flicked his hand again and the ice vortex flew apart and the snow continued its chaotic dance of nature. The wind, the snow, the cold, the sky, the clouds, even the stone under his feet, all of these things he could command but he no longer cared to on most days. Instead he took great joy in watching them do as nature dictated. Even the stone. He would sit and watch the stone for hours and while most saw stagnation he saw perseverance and courage. Stone, by its nature wants to fall down. A rock, freed of the mountain’s hold, will roll until it reaches the bottom. But this mountain was like he, old and stubborn. It refused to release the rocks to their playful jaunt, holding them firmly in place so long as it could. He admired that.
He caught a scent in the wind. Here in this lonely place the faint smell of plum blossoms. Sweet to the point of pain, the scent, even the very feint trace of it, reminded him of younger days and women whose kisses were as sweet as the scent. He grinned. She was coming. There had been no doubt in his mind that she would, the cold was too intense for her to stay away. Here so close to the sky the days of sun could warm even her flesh but these nights of cold were brutal in their invasive caresses. Like long fingers of cold they would sneak under any covers and tickle your feet until the chill was deep in you. Even he, a master of fire, had nights so cold he thought he could not endure them. He had no idea how it must be for her. So when the cold north wind began to blow he knew she would come. She always did.
“How many animals must you drape over yourself old man?” Her voice drifted in out of the cold night ahead of her. It was smooth like honey. He grinned.
“As many as I can.” He answered and chuckled.
She seemed to drift in between one shift of the wind and the next, a vision that the night flickered before his eyes. Resplendent in crimson robes trimmed in silver fox fur that hugged her lithe frame and seemed to be part of her. The wind did not wish to disturb the beauty of the vision, it left her robes un touched even while tearing at his furs. Her face was hidden under a cowl so that her voice seemed to echo from the darkness, slithering forth to seduce his hungry ears with licks of sweetness.
“I thought WuJen were forbidden to eat meat.” She said stepping closer.
“Oh. . .yes. . .they are. Thus my paradox.” He said chuckling. “For I am WuJen and I am man. WuJen is chaste and does not eat meat. Man likes meat. So we compromised and WuJen does not enjoy the succulent flavors and man does not Savor the warmth of the furs. He shivers but is full and WuJen is warm but hungry.”
“I am glad they could come to an understanding.” She said with a slight laugh that was like tiny bells ringing in the wind.
“They always do these days. The days of arguing and fighting are over. They are both too tired to argue anymore.” He said.
“Peace is a beautiful thing.” She said and finally stepped close enough that he could see part of her face. Her skin, as white as the snow, perfect, unflawed and eternally youthful. Her lips stained so deep red that one would expect them to bleed but they did not. As she smiled he found himself completely entranced by the movement of her mouth, the slow bending of the lips, the slight pout to them. She paused and allowed him to savor the sight before turning away.
As much as she entranced him, he entranced her as well but in different ways. She had watched him age from a young man running for his life to an old man who finally knew what it was to live. She had seen brash youth flower and then gracefully mature into age that suited him so well. His voice was always harsh, it always had been and age had not mellowed it at all. His laugh had always been quick and full of life and age only punished him with coughs when he laughed now but had left the joy of the sound intact. His soul had flowered into a true wise man. His power had grown and redoubled many times until he was the last great WuJen master. As much as he loved her lips, she loved his soul in her own way. Although her heart could no longer pitter patter in girlish delight, her mind admired all he was.
“You need to bathe.” She scolded him and then swift as the wind swept by him and into the cave behind him.
“Bathe?!” He snorted. “This a manly scent, a natural scent!”
“Bathe!” she called out from inside.
“But. . .”
“You smell like dead animals.” She called out and he broke into laughter then coughing. “Bathe.” She said peeking her head around the corner, no cowl or robe, he saw her flesh and melted immediately.
“Manly. . .” He protested one last time. She raised one eyebrow and he laughed again followed by several coughs. “ok.” He finally agreed and she smiled and vanished once more inside.
He chuckled to himself as he flicked his fingers once more and another vortex formed, sucking in the swirling snow and ice into a solid spinning mass. With another gesture he sent it stumbling into the cave. He followed it in and with his will directed it down the mouth and past the hanging furs that kept the wind out. Once inside he motioned one last time and the vortex meandered to a circular depression in the rock and then collapsed, dropping all of the ice and snow into a mound which over filled the stone basin. Xing motioned to a candle nearby and the flame grew and danced wildly and then jumped off the wick and into the pile of ice. As he mumbled arcane words so old most ears could never hear them the fire grew and the ice melted. The fire danced and cackled as it devoured the ice and left only water behind. After a short few moments the basin was filled to the brim with hot bath water. Flicking his wrist he directed the flame back to its home and it jumped back to the candle’s wick and shrunk to its proper size.
“Flowers.” She said from behind the paper blind that hid his sleeping mat.
He snorted but complied and took a jar from the shelf and emptied the dried flowers into the steaming water. Mumbling a few words he blew on the water and it frothed and bubbled and devoured the flower petals, the tiny dots o
f purple vanishing into the froth and then it went calm again. The scent instantly filling the room with a hazy scent of lavender and he paused to breathe in the smell.
“It reminds me of summer when I was young.” He said with his eyes closed.
“You were never young.” She retorted.
“I keep forgetting that. . .it must have been someone else then.” He laughed and he heard her chuckle. “It was so long ago though wasn’t it?” He paused and breathed in deeply once more and then snapped himself out of his recollections and began to strip down naked.
“Very long ago.” She whispered as she slid around the blind clothed only in the sheerest of silk robes. It was in fact spiders silk that he had convinced several spiders to weave for him. It retained a constant appearance of being wet and almost but not quite see through. It clung to her frame and teased him with all the pleasures it hid. He grinned at her and even at his age felt the sight affecting him as his cock shifted and began to stiffen.
“Wash.” She said to him smiling. Her face was almost innocent looking, eternally fresh and youthful. Her body was lithe and tight, small pert breasts and nipples that seemed on the verge of cutting the fabric away. Her legs were long and slender and yet muscled enough that she had a certain feline grace to her.
Grinning he stepped down into the basin and let his old body down. In fact the hot water soothed his aching bones and he closed his eyes as he let his entire frame drift into the water. The scent surrounded him completely and he lay his head back so that just his nose and mouth remained above water. The heat of the water penetrated his joints and muscles, slowly making him feel less and less broken. He raised his head with a start as he felt a hand upon his chest. Looking up he saw her leaning over him gently reaching down and caressing his wrinkled flesh lovingly. She smiled and he felt like crying at the sight of her over him. He closed his eyes and savored her touch.
“I remember. . .” he started to say.
“Hush. . .” she whispered. She knew all he remembered because she remembered it all too.
“So long ago. . .” He said and stopped, his throat choking up as he spoke.
“Hush now. . .bathe old man. You still stink.” She said, smiling wistfully at him.
He chuckled and reached out for the cloth at the basins rim to scrub his old flesh clean for her. He looked up at her and a thought occurred to him for the thousandth time. Once more? How many more times would it be?
“Hush old man. . .let your soul be still now. . .peace is a beautiful thing.” She whispered close to his ear and took the cloth from his hand and began to gently wash his flesh. Dipping the cloth in the scented water and then raising it to drip the warm liquid on his chest. He nodded and lay back against her and let her wash him clean.
“Manly scent.” He said, grinning.
She chuckled and squeezed water out on his face before returning to washing him.
“You know. . .there was a day when I had a dozen virgins giving me my bath each day.” He said in a dreamy voice. She smiled softly, she had heard the tale so many times. “I was the imperial WuJen and my every whim was satisfied. The Emperor himself gifted me with a beautiful beat copper tub so big that it took twelve servants three trips to carry enough hot water to fill it. Big enough that those nubile virgins could bathe with me.”
“That put an end to having virgins bathing you then didn’t it?”
“Yes. . .but it lasted once. That was enough.” He paused and his brow furrowed. “The water went red you know.” He said in contemplation. “So many virgins, the water stained red before I was done.”
She ran the cloth gently over his face. “Hush now, that was another life. There are no virgins here.” He snorted.
“I was different then you know.” He stated.
“Yes.”
“More WuJen than man. More wizard than mortal.” He sighed.
“They enjoyed themselves I am sure, old man.” She tried to comfort him.
“No. They didn’t. I didn’t want them too.” He opened his eyes. “That is why this place is so good for me.” He said, his eyes pleading for something, be it forgiveness or understanding she did not know.
“When I was at court I had what I thought was power. I had every vice and every craving satisfied. There was no want out of my reach and I wanted it all. He gave it to me and more, the Emperor was so envious of my powers that he gave me whatever I wanted so that I would do his bidding. I lost myself into it. Not the WuJen but the man. I lost him to that whirlwind of hungers. When I was sent away I was crushed. I was angry. I was so lost and I thought my life was over. But then here. . .” He went silent.
“Here is good for us both.” She agreed and ran her fingers over his furrowed brow and pushed the wrinkles away.
“I found the man here. I found myself but that hunger. . .those hungers. They never go away. Then you. . .” He went silent again and she smiled down at him as he fought back tears.
“You are good for me.” He said softly.
“Yes.”
“But I worry. . .”
“About?” She tilted her head as she asked.
“Do I ever hurt. . .” He began and she snorted a giggle and then quickly covered her mouth as she laughed. It was such an innocent sound coming from her it caught him off guard and he did not finish his question.
“Old man,” She paused and measured her response, gently stroking his brow as she chose her words carefully. “I can promise you, you hurt me no more than I allow myself to be hurt oh mighty WuJen.” She grinned and finished washing his face. He smiled and nodded and accepted her words.
“Now get your wrinkly old butt out of there before you wrinkle away completely.” She said and swift as a breath was up and sliding away across the floor. “The night is cold.” She turned and looked at him and with a knowing grin undid the tie to her gown so that it fell open. “I am cold old man. Come and warm me.” Her flesh was like the purest milk, so white and without blemish it almost seemed to glow from within. Her nipples, stiff red berries, the only break in the perfect color. Her hair shaved so that her body was a continuous, uninterrupted flow of cream. Nubile, fresh, untainted cream for him to corrupt.
He carefully exited the basin and stood before her forgetting his own nakedness, his cock hard, his body trembling in excitement. He knew at this moment he was not her fantasy of a man in flesh but he would be and much more. He smiled and the innocent smile began to morph and change on his face as the WuJen began to surface, the wizard within him waking up. The inhuman hungers began to waken. His sparkling green eyes ran over her form again and again as he licked his lips in a bestial hunger. His breathing ragged and excited, he stepped forward to her with a deep growling chuckle. She bit her lip. That look sending small shocks through her body as her own excitement grew.
He longed to kiss those lips, those red, red lips but he knew to do so was death, even to a WuJen. So for many years he had wanted her kiss, even as he indulged in her body, that kiss remained a dream he could not wake from. Those lips haunted him, the thought of how sweet that kiss would be. She let the robe slide off her shoulders and drop to the floor so that she was nude before him. Turning she showed her ass to him and then turned back again. She did not ask for approval, the look on his face was so much more than any words could have been right then. The hungry, evil, sinister look that told her that he was wide awake, that he remembered, that he hungered, and that he was ready to warm her. Which was good because she was cold, so very, very cold.
“I have written something for you.” He said looking around for the piece of parchment in the clutter.
“Have you now? A poet now are we?” She said knowing that if she were able she would be blushing at the thought.
He grinned “Always a poet.” He chuckled and found what he sought. He handed it to her and she took it tentatively like it was fragile and might break at her touch. She read it and then again. She looked up at his smiling face and then read it a third time. She found herself wishing
she could cry, wished she could react as the words deserved. A blush, a tear, all she could do was smile. There were no tears in her any more, no blushing. She smiled at him and saw his face beaming with pride.
Skin like virgin snow
Flesh chill to intimate touch
Forever beauty
Each character perfectly formed which she knew was a task for his old, shaky hands to do. The entire thing beautiful beyond any words she could conjure. She was surprised at her own reaction to it, she had thought that these feelings had long since passed from her ages ago. That her ability to be shocked and wooed had long since died in her but, all of a sudden there it was. His words tearing back the years to her own mortal youth before she had changed, before she had died and she was a blushing virgin again, star struck by a man’s words of her. She grinned and nodded. She pursed her lips and handed the parchment back to him, her eyes blazing with hunger, passion, new found emotional urgency.
“Give me this.” She said and turned away and knelt down before him. “Forever, make it part of me old man,” she bowed her head slightly and waited.
He felt his heart racing, his breath coming in ragged and feverish bursts. He looked at his own words, his own writing and then at her pale flesh and he could see it, could see it there in her flesh in his mind. Yes. . .this. . .forever.
By his hand. . . in her flesh, forever. . .
He grabbed at the table and took a knife and tested the blade. It was razor sharp. He had always kept his blades thus, always ready to be used. Now he was glad of that, the urgency demanded immediate action. He saw the kanji, each stroke on her flesh. Reaching out his hand he found himself uncannily steady despite excitement and age. His hand was sure as he placed the blade and pressed against her flesh. The feel of the first cut was like deflowering a thousand virgins, that yielding pop and then the slow sensual pull. Not deep, barely through the skin but deep enough that blood began to trickle across the snow white flesh. She moaned and raised her head slightly, the pain exquisite and pure. As the blade slid through her flesh, that pain awakened her soul. So long she had felt nothing and now so much, this old man made her feel so much.