A brief kiss, gentle, introducing my lips to hers and nothing more. Pulling back, I met her wide eyes and softly smiled. My hand still by her face, I cupped her cheek, something so right about touching her like this.

I needed to cherish her.

“Did you hate that?” I whispered, idly playing with the strands of hair loose from her bun.

“You surprised me,” she whispered back.

Tilting my head, I stroked her earlobe and said, “And?”

“Well, I was too surprised to notice whether or not I hated it.”

Before I could reply to that, she leaned in, her hands coming up to cup my cheeks. Not a far distance, I managed to breathe in before our lips met.

More than an introduction, she kissed me, almost innocent in how she didn’t know exactly what to do, far from innocent in how her tongue grazed my lip, ticklish, tingling, the breath between us so very hot on my wet lips. Drinking, drunk, my thoughts melting away as all I wanted to do was be hers. Let her hands hold my head in place, my lips part for her tongue.

Whatever of me she wanted, I wanted to give her, needed to give.

My lips, my breath, my mind, I gave it all up, asking only for her touch. The touch of her fingers as they slid through my hair, loosening the bun. The touch of her lips, soft and warm, sending shivers down my back. The touch of her body to mine, at some point having climbed onto her lap, my “bed rest” robe kind enough to let my spread my legs, surely fate that this put us at the perfect height to kiss.

Yes, we only kissed, but that didn’t make it feel any less euphoric. Soft and gentle, like the feeling of being held.

When we finally broke apart, breathless, flushed, I stared into her eyes. Wonderful eyes, inky black with a shimmer, reminding me of the night sky. Oh my heart thumped happily in my chest, eager to be closer to hers if only for a moment.

Idly caressing her face, I finally remembered I could speak, so many things to say. For now, though, I just said, “We have both been born inside a cage. Instead of yearning for things beyond our reach, let us cherish the few freedoms we have.”

She softly smiled; at least, her eyes narrowed as if she did smile. “The freedom to love.”

In answer, I left another kiss upon her lips. “The freedom to cherish.”

“Lian has taught me much today,” she whispered.

“I hope to teach Hua much more another day,” I replied, hand sliding up and rolling her earlobe between my thumb and finger.

A moan slipped out before she could catch, quickly covering her mouth before another did.

“So much more,” I said, smiling.

It became a game for us—the most dangerous game. Whenever we could find a moment alone, we kissed. There were no words to be said or longing looks or innocent touches. If we had time to do those things, we had time to kiss, so we did. Perhaps because I was always in bed when she visited, perhaps her personality showing through, she always led, holding my face as she set the tone of our kiss, whether gentle or harsh or deep—whatever she needed from me, whatever she needed me to be.

That was not to say I did nothing. No, I played my part. Paintings of valleys and caves, of lake pairs which each had an island, a waterfall—never vulgar, but teasing, making her think of such things, making her think of the same things I did.

Little by little, learning the shape of her body and how she liked to be touched through her robes that thinned as the weather warmed.

It all came to a head one summer day. A holiday, she had excused most of the maids, yet stayed in the palace under the pretence of disagreeing with the heat. Well, my building was on the cooler side, so naturally she came to visit, bringing sweet and cool things to enjoy.

And after a while, she said, “This one wishes to nap. See to it that none disturb.”

“Your servant understands,” said her maid, bowing, and she closed the door behind her on her way out.

My heart pounded, the situation settling in. Instinctively, I licked my lips, sat straighter in my bed.

But today she wished to talk. “That last painting… must you torment me?” she asked.

“How do I torment you? Those are simply paintings of the world,” I said lightly. Why would I tease her if not to be punished? Of course I wouldn’t admit it, not until she made a threat I liked the sound of.

Her face didn’t show anger, that a polite smile. Cold, thin lips thinner and eyes narrowed—this was frustration.

“Does something about my paintings excite you?” I asked, smirking.

“Yes,” she said, surprising me with her honesty.

I gulped, that straight-forward answer so arousing. “How so?” I whispered, voice coming out rougher.

“Seeing them and thinking of you, I feel an ache that my fingers cannot reach,” she said, her voice deeper than usual and so very smooth.

Well, that answer was too much. “You know, when I think of you, I cannot help but touch myself,” I said, my hands clenching on my lap.

“Show me.”

She didn’t hesitate and neither did I, obeying her, wanting to do it, doing it. I pulled the blanket off, then hiked up the robe, shuffling in place, before finally easing my legs apart. Even with the shorts-like underwear still on, my own excitement was plain to see, a patch of the cotton damp.

Wanting to tease her more, I kept my underwear on and slid my hand inside. Through the curls of wiry hair, I rubbed either side of my lips, wanting to take my time.

Because she stared at my crotch with such a deep, intense gaze that I worried I’d cum just from breathing too deeply.

So I avoided my clit, rubbing either side, yet still felt my breaths quicken, heart race. Closing my eyes, I let out a shuddery breath, then my other hand came up, chest aching to be touched.

As I felt a quiver roll through me, I looked at her again—cheeks flushed, eyes half-closed, her own robes parted, but only enough to let in her hands, not my gaze—and I realised that I could cum as many times as she wanted me to. Struck by that realisation, I pressed down my palm and rocked my hips, grinding against it, turning that quiver into a wave, my whole body tensing up for a moment.

Then the orgasm hit, sweet, flushing out everything but the bliss as I fell limp onto my bed, barely able to get my head to loll the right way to keep watching her.

She looked incredible. Glowing. Even now, she held herself with such poise, her breaths measured, but her toes curled, lips quivered, eyelashes fluttered. Outer robe loose, I watched her chest heave with every inhale, no doubt struggling against the binding-like covering, and I heard the muffled squelches that accompanied her lower hand’s rhythm.

Such a tease.

Wanting to see her climax, needing it, I pulled myself together enough to sit up and face her, then began to undress my top half. That was easy enough since I only dressed in an inner-robe and chest cover, my breasts now clear for her to see.

And she did.

I cupped them for her, pushing them up, teasing my nipples with my thumbs—not that they weren’t already stiff. Every graze tugged at my breath, trying to take it away, and I didn’t keep back those half-gasps, nor did I stop myself from squirming, legs rubbing against each other in search of friction.

Whether or not she needed the help to finish, my display almost certainly helped, her body tensing up. So beautiful, the way her legs clamped together, her head bowed and shoulders hunched, like she was becoming a bud that, once the last tremble ran through her, then flowered with a warm smile, her eyes full of love once they found mine.

Well, it was perhaps wrong to say she had “finished”. A minute of staring at each other, then she stood up, no sign of lingering weakness, her strides as elegant as always, then she was in front of me, bending down to find my lips.

A hungry kiss and, for a moment, I almost slid my dirtied hand through her hair, catching myself at the last second. But she noticed, her mouth breaking away to suckle on my fingers. I gasped, surprised, but that breath came out a moan, her swirling tongue sending a shiver from my arm to my spine.

It felt incredible to be desired.

Wanting to return the favour, I held her hand with my free one and guided it to my mouth. She tasted sweet. Kind of familiar to my own, but certainly sweeter. Perhaps out of my love for her or perhaps from her diet, either way, I didn’t care, just knew I wanted more of my Flower’s nectar.

Drawn back to her lips, I pulled my fingers out of her mouth and kissed her. Heady with erotic thoughts of tasting myself on her tongue, for a while, I forgot my plan, only after a minute or so guiding her onto my bed through our joined lips, silently beckoning her as I gently pulled back.

Once I had her here, I lay her down and began to undress her. She didn’t object, complying, allowing me to pull off her robes, exposing her.

So beautiful. Her story echoing in my head, I realised she wasn’t as old as I’d guessed, maybe not even yet forty. Empress Dowager sounded so old; Hua suited her better.

“Hua,” I whispered, throaty, desperate.

“Lian,” she whispered back, still oh so very smooth.

Bigger than mine even as she lay on her back, I kissed her breasts, then left my hands there as I trailed kisses down. I felt her tension, below her stomach firm. A moment of clarity, I worried she wasn’t comfortable with this, pausing there.

Glancing up, I waited for our eyes to meet, then asked, “Do you want me to continue?”

She nodded, but that wasn’t good enough.

“Tell me,” I said, lightly squeezing her breasts.

A tiny gasp left her lips, followed by her tongue as she licked them. Fuck, even now, seducing me, my tongue copying, desperate to kiss her.

“Kiss me,” she whispered, a gentle order. An order she knew I would obey without needing to be forceful or sweet.

And her gaze told me where she wanted to be kissed, not on my lips, but lower.

My own abdomen clenched tight, yet, when I carried on my kissing, her tension had left, soft, without resistance. No, she welcomed my kisses, spreading her legs that little wider, pushing her hips up that little higher, bringing her mound to my mouth.

Coming to her hair, a musky smell lingered that sent tingles down my spine. Her scent. A reminder we were but animals driven by a singular instinct, fruitless as it may have been.

Driven by her whimpering breaths, no longer measured, by her squirming, I dove between her lips. Though new to me, I knew what felt good for me and what I could only hope she might do to me. So I trailed my tongue, seeking the nub, knowing the moment I touched it as she bucked.

I almost laughed, her composure truly crumbled. But I didn’t. It was maddeningly erotic to know what I had driven her to, and I wanted to drive her even deeper into this hedonism.

Learning as I went, I flicked my tongue and I lightly sucked and I kissed, guided by her reactions, by her breathy moans and shudders and how her legs tensed either side of me. My hands eager to learn too, I stroked along her side, caressed the inside of her thighs, loosely tugged on her curly hair, finding anywhere that made her shiver.

Even when my tongue felt dead, I bobbed my head, rubbing it against her. And she was close, so close, every time I exhaled out my nose her breath shuddering, but not yet there.

I didn’t know why until I looked up, our eyes meeting again.

Breaking away, I let my fingers take over, well-practised as they were, and awkwardly climbed up her body to kiss her. Instantly, I felt the tension leave her, sinking into the mattress. The next moment, her legs clamped together, my hand still able to rub unimpeded, pushing her over the edge and through the waves. Trembling, she silently moaned against my lips.

“I love you,” I said back.

Whether she needed that or not, the next moment, she broke out of our kiss and held me, pulling me close, tight, like she wanted us to fuse together. Her arms looped around my back, leg curling around mine, face buried in the crook of my neck.

Holding me so tight, but not enough to hurt me.

“I love you,” she whispered, loud enough for me to hear.

If this was to be my tomb, how fortunate I would be buried with the one I loved.

mialbowy

The end! This was a little break from something else I’m writing, so no plan for another arc right now, but I hope it won’t be as long before the next one. Thanks for reading!