Stories: Beginnings and Endings

I've been thinking about how stories differ from books.

In an erotic story, the sex must be hinted at, then soon appear – rarely is there time for a long prelude…unless, perhaps, the implications build and build convincingly.  How, then, to end the story?  There should be some quality that somehow puts the sex into a different context:  perhaps that there is a realization that something special has occurred; or that one partner has the advantage, but in the end the other is in control.  Or simply a surprise twist that makes the story different from what it seemed.  Here is one example.




"A tiresome event," thought the Royal Astronomer. Too much food, too many speeches. He'd looked forward to meeting the young queen, whose interest in his work had led him to accept the invitation, but she'd left after a perfunctory toast. The king was slowly getting drunk, his full attention on the erotic tableaux performed by three unclothed dancers. The Astronomer's attention wandered there briefly, but was not captured.  Bored as well with the silly chatter of minor courtiers, he made an excuse, and found his way to the apartments provided for his visit. He paused at the door, seeing a motion of curtains inside. "Rodney?"

"No sir." She was nude, wearing only the bright band of steel on her neck that marked her as a slave of the castle. "Your assistant became somewhat ill from the wine; possibly he isn't used to its potency. He's in the dormitory now, and should be fine in the morning. I'm here to assist your toilette....if you will allow it."

Without asking, she took his cape and hung it. He strode into the chamber, darkly shadowed with red and purple curtains against old cherry wood, and sat on the carved ebony chair. She approached, knelt, and began to remove his boots. "Do you have a name, slave?" he asked. Her eyes did not meet his. "I am called Marin, my lord. If you will stand, I will remove your clothing," she added. "Your bath was drawn as soon as I was told you'd left the great hall. It is very hot, and will need a few minutes to cool."

Her nimble fingers peeled the formal clothes from him, and he presently stood as naked as she. Her breasts were full, and dark hair flowed around her shoulders, not quite obscuring the polished ring of her collar. She rose, still not looking him in the eye. " is large, sir. It is most impressive." His glance at her betrayed nothing in her attitude but submission. He was indeed becoming aroused. Still, he was a man of honor, with a highly placed wife, a consort of great value to his career, and if not a passionate lover, a good friend, something rare among men and women of their caste. It would not do to casually take a slave girl to bed. Even if she were clean, there was the risk of gossip.

"All very well," he said, "But now I must urinate." And he turned toward the ornate ceramic pissoir. "Of course, sir," she replied. "May I assist you?"

"Assist me how?" he asked, amused. "Would you hold my penis for me?"

"Exactly, my lord. May I?" And she knelt, offering her small hands to cup his cock and balls.

"Well...why not?" Her touch was pleasant, firm but gentle, and she directed the stream carefully, taking care not to allow any fluid to splash. He relaxed, and enjoyed the odd sensation of a slave assisting him in this way. The rich rush of his urine flowed freely into the vessel.

As he concluded, Marin gently shook his penis, allowing most of the final stream to pass into the bowl. Then, spontaneously, she took his member into her mouth and sucked. A strange, electric sensation passed through him as the residue of his urine was drawn out. And he realized his erection had grown, and was still contained between the slave's lips.

"Girl," he remonstrated, "You've gotten me erect!" The slave did not answer. She could not answer. She only hummed softly, his cock securely remaining in her mouth. "Well, then," he said, "If you intend to finish what you've begun, at least allow me to sit."

With that, she released his now engorged penis, and followed him, on hands and knees, as he relaxed into a comfortable armchair. "Forgive me, my lord," she said, "I was presumptuous. Your member is so beautiful, and my mouth was drawn to it. Please, may I service you?" He merely nodded, then watched as she assumed a position of obeisance, still on her knees, and tongued the preseminal moisture from him before taking the head into her mouth. She proceeded to lick the shaft of his now fully tumescent penis, pausing to suck the cap, and dipping her head to caress his balls, darting her tongue into the creases of his thighs.

At length, she abandoned all but his cock, sighing as she took its length ever deeper, now penetrating into her throat. The sensation was unlike anything he'd felt, like a virgin vagina might feel, he imagined, its tight clasp lubricated by her saliva. He looked down at her. Her eyes were closed in ecstasy, and as she stroked, bobbed her head, and sucked, she began to whimper. The vibrations of her throat transferred to his cock, and he felt his climax building.

"I'm coming," he said. Her only response was a deep moan. His ejaculation was lengthy and copious, the slave's mouth expertly working him, one hand stroking his perineum, urging him to surrender his juices. It was by far the longest orgasm he'd had, prolonged even farther by her gentle but insistent tongue, teasing, drawing, milking him for every drop. Only then, his diminishing erection still distending her mouth, did she raise her eyes to meet his. Her eyes shone.

At length, she released his flaccid organ. "Thank you, my lord," she said, and wielding a silk napkin, she carefully wiped him clean of her drool.

"Will there be anything else, my lord?" she asked. Drained and somewhat bedazzled, he shook his head.

Bowing, she donned her robes and quietly left.

* * * *

The heavy door moved, and the two ladies, who had drowsed in their chairs, were suddenly alert. "Your highness!" And they hastened to her side.

"Help me off with this collar," said the queen. "And order a bottle of the green wine. Cock sucking is thirsty work."

"Oh, madam, you were successful, then?" And they fluttered around her, dressing her in her soft sable robe and cashmere slippers. "Is he truly as magnificent as you'd heard?"

"I was, and he is. Indeed," she said thoughtfully, "I think perhaps poor Rodney may not recover for several days. Meanwhile, I shall want to interview our guest tomorrow after mass. We will assign him a male valet for the morning. I think Marin will see to his evening needs. It should be an interesting week."