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10:52pm 25/05/2006
  Why do you do this to me?
I sit on the bed in your lousy student accommodation. I can’t take my eyes off you. You’re working at your desk, not looking at me – have you forgotten I’m here? Can’t you feel my gaze pressing into your back? Or are you enjoying this, sitting there knowing that I want you, knowing that in my mind I’m undressing you, my eyes tracing the contours of the body I know by heart?
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I wrote this...   
09:30pm 19/05/2006
  ...in February 2005, about a month after I wrote the previous one, but for some reason I never posted it here. I came across it today while I was writing another story (which will be up here soon!) and quite liked it, so here it is:

Legs entwined in his, face pressed against the curve of his neck, she purrs contentedly in the afterglow of another climax. He smiles as he strokes her hair. When she took his innocence and promised to teach him all she knew, did she imagine that it would bring her nights like this? He has all but forgotten his sense of obligation to her, lost it in the process of learning her body. She is so soft and yielding that he sometimes thinks she must be made of a different kind of skin to him – her small breasts and delicate pink nipples, the perfect curve of her hips, the pert globes of her buttocks and the soft folds between her legs, as delicate as petals. She taught him her body and in return he gives her nights like this one, lazy and decadent in the twilight glow of a single lamp, nights of warmth and intimacy and the scent of each other’s skin. It is snowing outside; through a small gap in the curtains he watches the flakes fall. She sighs, drowsy and contented beside him, and her breath tickles his neck. He wonders, looking down at her, whether she will believe him if he says he loves her now – not out of gratitude, as it was before, but because there is no other word for this overwhelming tenderness, the way he feels when he looks at her and the pleasure he gets from giving her pleasure. She is already asleep, her head pillowed on his chest, so he hides the words inside himself, saves them up to tell her later. He doesn’t know that she, older than him and in love once before, has seen them in his eyes this night, and does not need to be told.		  
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Sorry it's been so long...   
07:32pm 30/01/2005
  She lies curled on her side in his bed, naked but for her chipped green nail varnish and the silver bracelets he has never seen her take off. The dawn light filters through the curtains, and he watches her as she sleeps. It is not so very long since she came into his life, bright and strange, with the body of a woman and the eyes of a child. Not beautiful, but striking, with her dark hair and her flowing skirts. And she saw him and wanted him, for some reason he will never understand. She led him to places he had never been before, into this twilight world of new sensations, soft whispers and warm skin, and after they first made love he looked at her and his heart swelled with gratitude, and the only way he could think of to express it was 'I love you'. He doesn't love her and she knows it, but she understands why he said the words. She has been in love before and she loves him now, with the impulsiveness and inexplicable loyalty of a child. That night she forgave him his youth and his inexperience, forgave him his aching gratitude that seemed somehow like scorn compared to the burning depths of her feelings, and for that he is all the more grateful. He puts his arm around her and she stirs in her sleep, the covers sliding away from her pale breasts. He covers her up again, tenderly, and presses his face into her hair. Even if he never really loves her, if he continues to let his obligation to her destroy their chances of an equal relationship, he knows he will remember her always. She knows it too, as she sighs in her sleep, and for now it seems enough to content her.  
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08:53pm 19/10/2004
  Oh dear. I have many ideas these days, but no time in which to write them down. As soon as I have time, I shall return.  
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At the Court of the Emperor - Chapter 1   
03:14pm 10/09/2004
  I created these characters a while ago, for an ordinary fantasy/SF story. The story didn't work out and I forgot all about them, but maybe all they needed was a little depravity...Needless to say, this is only the first chapter ;)

She was an outsider, and this was a dangerous place for outsiders. The inhabitants of the city lived in the shadow of the great, impenetrable Imperial Palace. Nobody knew what went on there, although tales were told of the shadowy rituals of the Imperial Court, and sometimes nobles were seen walking among the ordinary citizens, noticeable because of their unusual height and the scarification on their faces and arms. And sometimes, people disappeared. Orphans, foreigners, people who lived on the edges of society, who stood the least chance of being missed. She should have known it would happen to her, eventually.
Now she lay in the white room, dressed in a white shift and staring blankly at the ceiling. She had no idea how long she had been there. There seemed to be gaps in her memory – they must have drugged her when they took her away. But she knew that she was in the Palace now, and under their control. She looked around the small room again. The floor was soft, contoured, and the walls also seemed to curve. The room was completely white. There were no windows, and no sign of a door, but a soft light emanated from somewhere and filled the room. A person could go mad in here, she thought. Sometimes she heard moaning coming from other rooms, but somehow it didn’t seem like the moaning of the mad.
She slept, and when she woke he was there, kneeling on the contoured floor beside her, his hand beneath her shift tracing patterns on her thigh. He wore a dark blue cloak, and a birdlike mask that hid the upper part of his face. The scent of him was delicious, and the colours against the whiteness hurt her eyes. She pushed herself up on her elbows.
‘Who are you?’ she stammered. He said nothing, just leaned over and kissed her. His fingers moved up her thigh and flickered over her labia, across her clit. She moaned softly. ‘Don’t,’ she whispered. But she could not bring herself to push his caressing hand away. It was too long since she had been touched by a man, and there was something so compelling about this masked stranger. She wanted to be close to him, to get drunk on the strange, intoxicating scent he gave off. He wore nothing beneath the long cloak, and she could feel his cock pressing against her leg, hard and urgent. He pulled her shift up to her waist, exposing her fully. He spread her lips and pushed two fingers inside her, making her gasp, and as he thrust them in and out his thumb found her clit and began to rub. She moaned and arched her back, pressing herself down on his fingers, needing them deeper inside her. Her orgasm was near when he withdrew his hand, leaving her breathless and frustrated. She opened her eyes to see him poised over her, his cloak hanging open to reveal the taut body beneath. His skin was patterned all over with scars. Before she had time to think what this might mean, he lowered his body onto hers and plunged his cock inside her with one smooth thrust. Her hips bucked with pleasure and she clutched him to her as he thrust again and again, hard and fast. His mouth was against her neck and she could feel his teeth pressing against her skin. The tension built inside her until she could no longer bear it; she clenched around his cock and her orgasm overtook her, jolts of pleasure shooting through her body. He bit into the soft skin of her neck, but the pain only intensified her pleasure. She felt blood trickle over her throat. The stranger gasped in her ear as he came, his fluids spurting deep inside her. As he withdrew, she saw that his lips were coloured with the blood from her neck, and when she moved her head she noticed a small red stain on the soft floor, stark against the whiteness. He rose, adjusting his cloak to show no hint of his nakedness beneath, and offered his hand to help her up. She stood, her knees weak, shivering as she felt warm liquid slipping down her thigh. The door had no handle, was indistinguishable from the rest of the wall, but nevertheless it opened to his touch. He took her hand, and led her out into the darkened corridor.		  
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Dress Rehearsal   
10:32pm 05/09/2004
  This one has a kind of story to it! It was quite fun to write - I should do this more often...

The sunlight falls cool and green through the leaves. He watches her, covertly, where she wanders on the other side of the glade, arm in arm with another girl. From here he can make out the swell of her breasts beneath her blue dress, and as she walks the graceful lines of her legs show briefly under the silk. To his annoyance, a fairy wanders into his line of sight and stands there obstinately, watching the action.
‘All right, I’m sick of you lot,’ snaps the director impatiently, waving a hand at the assorted fairies arranged in front of him. ‘Next scene, please.’
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'I wake alone'   
05:22pm 25/08/2004
  This is my first proper attempt at erotic writing. It will be followed shortly by others - hopefully I'll get better as I go along :)

I wake alone, sunlight filtering through the curtains, and straight away I think of you. I imagine you here, lying beside me on a lazy Sunday morning, and I long to feel your skin against mine. I wonder what you would think if you saw me like this, my tangled hair spilling over my bare breasts, my body relaxed from sleep. Would you say I was beautiful?
I turn over on my side, close my eyes and imagine your body spooned into mine. In my mind, I awake to feel you kissing my neck, your hands gently tracing the slender curves of my body. You cup my breast in one hand and stroke my nipple with your thumb, feeling it harden to your touch. I am wide awake now: I moan softly and press myself against your crotch, encouraging you to go on. I can feel your cock stiffening, pressing against the cleft of my buttocks. And still you kiss my neck and shoulders, one hand moving down over my stomach while the other fondles my breast. Your fingers run over the curve of my hips and down my thighs. I move my legs apart a little, goosebumps rising as I feel your touch on my inner thigh. I can feel wetness between my legs, and a tingling sensation spreads over me from where your fingertips are moving. My body tenses in anticipation as your hand moves closer, tracing circles up my thigh. You slip the tip of one finger inside me and withdraw it, and I bite my lip in frustration. Your finger trails upwards, and I gasp as it passes briefly over my clit. You lift up my leg and position yourself more comfortably behind me. I can feel your hard cock now against my wetness, the head resting against my throbbing clit, and I press myself against you to intensify the contact. I slide my hand between my legs, take hold of your cock and slip the head inside me, hearing you groan softly. You must know by now that I am desperate to be filled, and obligingly you hold my hips and slowly slide inside me, letting me feel every inch of you as you enter me. I moan aloud and lift my leg higher to accommodate you: you know how I love the feeling of penetration, the way you can fill that empty space inside me so completely. You thrust into me and out again, slowly, filling me again and again. One of your hands is cupping my breast, the other is on my stomach, pulling my body close to you. As you thrust into me, you move that hand downwards, over the dark mound of my pubic hair, and press your fingers against my clit, making me gasp again. ‘You like that, babe?’ you whisper, catching my earlobe gently between your teeth. I can only moan in reply as you rub my clit, your cock thrusting harder and faster now, reaching deep inside me. My moans become louder; I can feel my orgasm approaching and as you rub me I come, hard, gasping, and I feel your balls tightening against my buttocks and you groan out loud and I feel a spreading warmth as you come inside me.
I open my eyes and I am lying alone again on this lazy Sunday morning, one hand between my legs. I am very glad of my imagination, until I can feel your touch again.		  
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purple_lady
 
 

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