Please be aware this excerpt is suitable for mature readers
only and contains graphic passages.
Excerpt from "One Hundred Women" from Soulful Sex Volume II
"Oh, Jent, that was a beautiful tune," Delinn told him.
He set aside his lute and flopped down next to her on the blanket. "T'is your words that make it so, Coz."
"I like that you are so positively disposed towards me these days, not like when we were younger and you called me a wench."
He lifted his arm so she could tuck herself under it, and her dark hair draped over his pale shoulder. "When did I do such a dastardly thing?" he asked. "Surely it had to have been long before I knew the meaning of the word 'wench.'"
"When I ran off with your wooden dog and hid it from you. I didn't know what the word meant either, but I cried to Mother because I was afraid you would never forgive me, seeing as you were angry enough to employ such a word."
"I will always forgive you," said Arjent, and kissed her.
They had been kissing off and on for seven years by then, and his technique had much improved over the years. In fact, he had learned to enhance the effect of his mouth's caresses by applying his hands to Delinn's breasts. So pleasant did she find this activity, that when they were apart she spent much time daydreaming of doing more of the same. And when they were together, no matter how engaging the conversation, she always hoped eventually the talking would stop for awhile.
"Linn, my sweet friend," sighed Argent. "There's something I would like to do, if you would grant it."
"Is it an unpleasant thing, giving me reason not to grant it?"
"I think not."
"Then tell me, and doubtless I shall say yes."
He ran his nose up and down over her cheek. "I would rather show you, and let you withdraw your permission any time if you so wish."
Delinn tingled with excitement and suspense. "What can it be?"
"Tell me yes and find out."
"All right, then, yes!"
It was a fine, hot summer afternoon, and Delinn wore nothing but her lightest tunic and sandals, the latter already cast off upon one corner of the blanket. Arjent now rose from her side and folded up her right leg so he could resituate himself between her legs upon his knees. Delinn stared up at him quizzically. He scooted down a bit, then reclined so that he might kiss her upon her left knee.
Delinn giggled. "You need not ask leave to kiss my knee, Jent...it is always at your disposal."
He said not a word, but gave her a look in response that told her to wait for more. She folded her arms under her head so she could watch him. His head bent down again, and this time he kissed her inside her lower thigh. Her legs were close together so that when he did this, his long hair fell delectably over both her thighs. One of his hands came up between them and gave a gentle push, and Delinn found her legs suddenly quite eager to spread apart.
In the past, once or twice, Arjent had been bold enough to lay his hand upon the hidden place, but only through clothing, and never for more than a moment. The effect of these gestures had been extreme: Delinn found when he touched her in that way, all at once he seemed like the most magical, divine creature in all the world, so mysterious and glorious she could hardly contain her wonder at him.
So now, at the prospect of Arjent's head with its exquisitely soft hair moving slowly up her thighs, she hardly knew what to do with her excess of feeling. His lips caressed the sensitive flesh of one thigh, his fingers stroked the other, and in between she felt the blossoming of such delicious heat that she was certain he could feel it upon his face. The possibility of him stopping filled her with panic; she wondered if somehow he might be persuaded to continue this the rest of the afternoon.
But that was not Arjent's plan, as she learned in a moment. He kissed her higher and higher, and then the kisses alternated with small, tender strokes of his tongue upon her flesh. Her body was inspired: without any aid of her mind it conceived what would be the most desirable conclusion of this activity, and she felt her legs part wide of their own volition.
Arjent indeed had the very intention for which Delinn's flesh was yearning. Suddenly she felt his mouth upon her sweetest place, and a half second later, his tongue.
The entire world was blasted away in the white ecstasy of that sensation.
Her back arched, her loins were set ablaze in bliss, she thrashed upon the blanket as if mad. After this first wave of pleasure she was seized with desperation that he never cease doing this to her, never ever. Her hands flew down to lay upon his head, fingers entwining in the gossamer waves. At this she felt Arjent make a noise into her flesh and the vibration was delicious; she realized her reactions were pleasing him deeply.
It was classic Arjent: to him there was no greater satisfaction than bringing joy to others, whether it be giving his mother an hour's rest while he tidied up the house, or making a crowd in the square laugh at one of his jesting songs, or giving a flower to a girl who was sad over losing her beau to another. No doubt when contemplating the idea of doing this act with Delinn, his measure of its worth was the potential for its giving her pleasure.
She guessed, therefore, that he was very happy. And it was also safe to surmise that he would not stop until she asked him to. This realization filled her with joy, for the possibility was now very real that they might stay there all afternoon and night, with Argent's glorious tongue pleasuring her.