Mai of the Island - A Preview

     Mai stood on the beach and watched the setting sun cast the water in the same shade as the lava that bubbled deep within the belly of Mount Peelu, while the gentle waves lapped at her feet and buried them in the loose sand. Her tresses billowed about in the cool evening breeze, a novelty which she quite enjoyed. The younger women of her village had taken her aside at the crack of dawn that day, and undid her girlish braid; anointed it with a sweet smelling herbal paste; and washed it with the hot water from the spring, welcoming her to womanhood.

     It wasn't how Mai imagined it would be, though. She had known about the blood and the hot pain in her womb, but somehow, she didn't feel all that different from the last week, before it had finally happened. A little feverish maybe, but she assumed it was the anticipation for her rite of passage tomorrow—men from her village would visit her in the ceremonial hut and induct her, one by one. The women were all quiet about what went on in there, even her mother. Then again, her mother spoke to her only when it was absolutely necessary, and avoided her at all other times.

     Mai wished her rite had coincided with a few other girls. She took a deep breath of the tangy sea breeze to clear her head; it helped, just like when she went spearing for fish. She freed her feet from the wet sand and made her way to the cliff. The grandmother had warned her not to wander too far, but it was her last night as a maiden, and she wanted to spend it gazing at the dark glittering beach in the sky; the place where her ancestors went to begin their next life.

~

     Mai didn't encounter anyone from the village; they were busy setting up the ceremonial hut. It had been a year since anyone attained womanhood, and hence it was an occasion to celebrate. She walked eastward, up the gentle hill that ended in an abrupt cliff overlooking the beach. The cliff was her usual haunt away from the village and its mundane life. The breeze was a little stronger up there; it kept the pesky mosquitoes away. She settled down leaning against a smooth boulder, watching the darkness chase away the last colours from the sky.

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Mai of the Island - A Lesbian Erotica

Life demands change, and change is scary.

When Mai's long-awaited turn to undergo the mysterious rite of passage to womanhood comes, she withdraws into herself, afraid to reach out. But help arrives from the least likely place to ease her mind.


Mai of the Island - Coming soon on Amazon!

Temple of the One - 2

(cont. from: http://eroticsnippets.blogspot.com/2015/08/temple-of-one-1.html)

The priestess, although in fervent passion, noticed our presence outside her alcove and gently tapped one of the acolytes, motioning the younger woman to shift into her position. The elderly patron barely emerged from the musky trance for a second before she was plunged again into the loins of the young acolyte.

Gathering herself for a moment, the priestess then sashayed towards us, unmindful of her nipples, still pert from the ministrations she had received, and the jiggle of her breasts. A luminescent silver circlet on her brow kept her long dark hair out of her face. A white cotton loin cloth hung from the glimmering golden girdle that adorned her hips. When she came to stand in front of us, she barely reached my shoulders, and yet there was a calm ferocity in her eyes that implied an uncommon strength.

And in the same silence that she had guided me through the passage, the High Priestess nodded at her lesser and then at me, and left us. I was now under the tutelage of this fiery priestess.

She didn't offer a greeting or a smile but she reached forward and clutched my arm, just above my elbow and tugged me closer. The hand burnt my skin with her passion as she impressed upon my lips a scorching kiss. She made me bend forward into an awkward stance for the kiss which was tapping into the water element inside me.

The steam of passion that misted around us let loose the fire inside me. It asserted it's hold on me; I say it like it's something different from me but it it's not, I'm it, and it is a part of me.

My raging fire met the priestess' inferno. With my primary element fully awakened, I pulled her small frame closer to my body and leant in, crushing her full breasts on my lean abdomen, and threatening to sweep her off her feet. I was inflamed with desire, yet she held her ground and her deft fingers invaded my loins and worked their magic. It was heat as I had never experienced before and its intensity seared through me, fanning my own flames even further.

Just when I thought I couldn't handle it any longer, the priestess relinquished her embrace. My heart raced, driving the blood to my skin in an attempt to cool my body. No one had ever made me sweat like this before. There was no doubt that I had much to learn, even about my primary element.

The priestess smiled; her pixie face lit up like a little girl presented a surprise gift. She led me inside her alcove to the elderly patron. She gestured me to take her.

Temple of the One - 1

Hush! 

The Head Priestess chastised me silently before I even opened my mouth. She turned and glided down the passage, towards the sanctum; I followed, in her wake.

The sunlight dimmed and the steady flame of the torches, mounted high on either walls, lit our path in a red-orange glow. I could hear the faint sounds at the end of the corridor, they were offerings to the One. 

I was going to see the spectacle of the patrons and the priestesses with their acolytes. I was an acolyte now, not a neophyte, I reminded myself. I was going to meet the priestess under whom I'd serve and learn and one day if I was truly blessed as they claimed me to be, I might experience the Visitation. I tried to calm myself and slow my thundering heart. I didn't want the Head Priestess to chide me again.

The songs of passion were clearer now; I picked up the individual notes. A keening, a grunt, a moan, a growl, and the percussion of flesh slapping on flesh. We arrived at the end of the passage. 

This was the sanctum. There was no idol or shrine like in the temple of the lesser gods and goddesses, for the One was everywhere life thrived, and in the sanctum, life was celebrated in its primal form, stripped off all trappings of society. 

I tried not to stare at the tangle of flesh, engaged in coitus in the alcoves set into the walls. I was but an acolyte fresh, the visions and the sounds and the aromas, worked their magic inside me, drawing both fire and water from my body, my dominant elements. 

The High Priestess halted before the mouth of one of the chambers. Inside, a priestess seated high was serviced by a patron, an elderly woman with grey hair and splotched skin. The woman was lapping at the nectar dripping from the priestess' cunt, while two acolytes kept her imprisoned in that position. Fire and water - sapphic dominance. My breath caught at the tableau before me, this would be where I begin my service to the One.

Lost Soul

Hazel held the red rose close to her heart, Amy loved roses. She fought back a tear as she knelt beside a grave. She had to set things right.

Amy Breech

1992 - 2011

Beloved Daughter

In our memories, you forever blossom.

The black marble headstone bore no other words. Hazel knelt besides it and placed the rose at its base. She took a chalk out of her pocket and wrote 'And Sister', next to the words 'Beloved Daughter'. A sad smile tugged at her lips as she ran her fingers across the chiseled name. Amy always brightened up whenever their father presented her with a rose from his garden, Hazel reminisced. Those were the most pleasant memories of her days in her parents' house. The days of innocence. Her parents still loved her back then. Maybe they still did, but Hazel was her mother's daughter, proud to a fault.

If stating her love for another was a sin, then it was something that she was willing to go to hell for. Hazel had left home and moved into an apartment of her own soon after the fallout. Amy had been their bridge and now she was gone. 

Her thoughts drifted to Tess, her girlfriend; it helped assuage her heartache to remember that come what may, as long as she had Tess besides her, she could take on the world, and win.

With a final caress to the marble, Hazel stood up.

Goodbye Amy.

She was about to turn back and leave when she saw a woman in a black dress with a white hat emerge out of a crypt. The woman saw Hazel looking at her. Hazel was rooted to the spot - never had she felt an attraction this strong, not even with Tess. She gazed for long into the woman's eyes. And then she remembered herself. She shook her head and blinked once. When she looked again, the mysterious woman was gone, vanished as if she were just an illusion.

Hazel chided herself and left the cemetery. She boarded the bus and sat at the back. The ride was a long one. A few minutes into the journey, she heard a soft moan from the seat behind her. It was the same woman in black and there was a girl with her, a ginger-head. They were making out oblivious to all those around them. The woman noticed Hazel watching her and looked straight into her eyes, the girl too turned to face her. It was Tess. Hazel stared, transfixed at the entwined pair. The bus jolted when it hit a bump in the road, and made her blink. When she looked again, there was no one there. She stared hard at the empty seats. Surely they had been there just a second ago. She could never have imagined it. It was too vivid.

The bus halted and she got out, trying to make sense of what she saw. She had to walk through the park.

The park was relatively empty despite the clear sky and warm sunshine. She turned into a path secluded by a thick copse. There on the bench beside the path was a couple, too intent in their intimacy. As Hazel drew closer, she saw that it was that same Woman and Tess. Tess' school girl skirt was hiked way up to her hips and her panties hung loosely from one ankle. The woman was fingering Tess furiously while kissing her neck. Hazel froze. She told herself that she was imagining things but the fact remained that far from feeling outraged she was thoroughly aroused. The woman halted her sensual assault on Tess and turned to look at Hazel with her hypnotic, silver-grey eyes.

"Is everything all right, ma'am?"

"Huh?" Hazel turned towards the voice.

It was a park warden. He looked concerned.

Hazel looked hurriedly at the bench, it was empty.

"Yes," she stammered. But the man looked unconvinced.

"My wife has this, you know."

"What?"

"Absence seizure, you were staring at nothing for a good couple of minutes there."

The possibility of an illness rattled Hazel. Her sister had died in an accident, she had run the car off the road on a zero traffic lane. The doctor had said something must have distracted her. Maybe this was it. Maybe she has whatever Amy had.

"I'm fine. I can manage," Hazel said.

She walked on, thinking about the strange visions. She needed to talk to Tess before she consulted a doctor. She walked up the steps to the mansion and almost went inside when it struck her. This isn't my apartment building. What's happening to me?

She would have walked away had it not been for Tess' voice coming from inside. Her head told her to leave. It was probably another hallucination but something more powerful tugged at her, inviting her inside. She went in of her own free will, curious.

She crossed the huge dark living room, and went up the ornate stairs. She arrived at a long hallway. There were rooms all long the corridor. The third room on the left. It was instinctive. She went in. The room was an exact replica of her bedroom back in her apartment. And on the bed was Tess, naked, and touching herself.

"Tess?"

"Hmm..." Came the half lidded response.

It was her. What was she doing here? But this was her home, why wouldn't Tess be here. Her mind went a little mellow as if she'd a little too much to drink. She didn't want to ponder. She just needed to rest. 

She watched Tess play with herself for a few moments. Tess moaned. It fuddled Hazel's thoughts, just enough to trigger her own arousal. The erotic daydreams(?) she had while retuning home brought out her own hunger. She began stripping her clothes off, all the while her eyes drank in Tess' sinuous body twisting with pleasure on the bed; one hand buried in between her thighs and the other tugging at her nipple piercing.

Once naked, Hazel joined Tess and cupped her breasts. Tess moaned louder. Hazel moved further up and kissed her. The smooth metal bead on Tess's tongue massaged her. 

Hazel remembered the way the dark haired woman had nuzzled and sucked Tess' neck while fingering her, melting her. She wanted to do that. She removed Tess' hands and replaced it with her own. The reaction she got out of Tess surprised her. Tess drew her closer as if she wanted to meld with her body. 

Hazel was taken by the power she wielded over her, she continued all the while Tess trashed beneath her in pleasure. She strummed the red head way past her climax and with her relentless action she was rewarded with successive orgasms.

Hazel yearned for a release of her own. She teased apart Tess' thighs and wedged her own in between. Their bodies fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Hazel began to sway on Tess's thigh, which was now wet enough to let her slide and stimulate her clit. Tess's pierced snatch ground on her thigh. It pushed Hazel over the edge into the bliss of a climax.

The high of the orgasm cleared up, leaving her even more hungry. Tess lay besides her catching her breath, her perked up nipples stabbed the air each time she inhaled. But Hazel sought something more. The woman from the cemetery. What was she? A mere phantom of her imagination? She wished she were there. She wished she'd take her like she did Tess in her dreams.

The door opened. Hazel turned her neck to see who it could be. It was the woman. Her dark hair streamed past her pale shoulders, her lips - red as blood would have riveted Hazel but it was the silver-grey eyes that enthralled her. Hazel wanted her. She wanted the woman to take her. It wasn't a carnal desire. It was something more, something primal. A longing in her very soul.

The woman in black, pulled at a knot and the silk dress she wore melted off her body and puddled on the floor. Hazel held her breath watching the pale skinned beauty  climb on to the bed and lie besides her. Hazel expected a blast of heat from her but all she felt was a vacuum, drawing her towards it, like a moth to the flames.  

Hazel leaned to kiss the blood-red lips. The moment she touched the lips, the room shifted. It was darker now, the mattress was softer and the bed, bigger. But no Tess. Tess,  the name echoed inside her head. Who is Tess? She tried to remember, but it felt like peering into a muddy pond in the middle of a moonless night, futile. The effort sapped her will and focus. Only the persistent need remained.

The woman's kiss was soft and insistent. Hazel yielded readily. She revelled in the invasion of her mouth and the submission of her tongue. Hazel let the woman take her. A cool hand cupped her searing hot sex. The contrast only made the heat from her own body that much more intense. 

Hazel embraced the woman, urging her closer. The cold, hard nipples crashed into her warm flesh. Smooth and soft, yet Hazel could sense the hard muscles beneath the woman's skin. But that was as far as her thoughts remained coherent. Two fingers  teased apart her nether lips, sliding up and down the slick pink flesh, while the pads of the palm massaged the clit gently yet firm. A finger penetrated her. Hazel shuddered. The finger delved deeper into her sopping vagina. Hazel moaned in to the the woman's mouth, the warmth of her breath was consumed the second it left her.

The woman broke the addictive kiss. Hazel opened her eyes. Hazel hadn't touched her and yet the woman seemed to be in rapture, as if Hazel's very presence was giving her a rush. But Hazel was far too gone to think now. The woman lowered her mouth to Hazel's breast and sucked on it. Sparks splintered form the nipple under assault and spread down her torso, joining the fireworks that the woman's fingers were setting off inside her sex. 

Hazel arched her back, drawn taut by the sensations that blitzed through her body. It was as if the woman was waiting for this. She let go of Hazel's breast and clamped down on the fully stretched neck. 

Fear, and desire erupted in equal measures. Hazel, at that instant, understood what was happening but it just a fraction of a second of total clarity brought on by fear. It was  lost just as fast, plunging her back into the wanton haze. She felt the throb of her pulse where the mystery woman was kissing. It resonated with the one in her vagina.

The woman swept Hazel's hair away from her neck. And then it came. It was pure bliss, nothing like anything she had ever had. Not on her own, not with Tess. It was drawing her very life out of her, merging it with something ancient and powerful. She didn't writhe, just a silent gasp of surprise. Her pupils dilated and yet all she saw was blackness. It was cold.

*

Hazel opened her eyes. By all rights it should have been dark - pitch black but she could see as clearly as in daylight. The ceiling was low at about eight feet, and it had murals painted all over it. They were of a woman in various settings. She seemed to be a queen or something. People bowed or knelt before her in all the different settings. What was this place? She looked around her, the walls were close too. It seemed like an empty store room of some sort. Why would anyone paint murals in a store room? She sat up. Her hands were on a marble platform. She got off it to see it better. 

It was coffin. She backed against the wall, fast. This was a sepulchre. She panicked and looked for a way out. There was stone door, sealed shut. She couldn't get out through that. She screamed hoping to attract someone's attention. Something shimmered through the door. She mistook it for sunlight at first but then the shimmering stopped and a figure solidified, a woman. She was wearing black. Was it her? She backed away fast.

"Amy?"

The woman looked at her with both pity and scorn, a look that only a sibling can give you. 

"I saw your scribbling on my headstone. Touching."

"Amy?"

"I think we've already established that."

"You are dead."

"Give the girl a golden star."

It was Amy. But did that mean...?

"Am I dead?"

"Technically, yes."

"Technically? What does that mean? Am I having some out of body experience? Did I have an accident as well?"

Amy laughed. "That's cute, sis. But you are in deep shit, you know."

Hazel stepped up to Amy. It was then she realised that her sister looked insubstantial. She placed her hands on her shoulder expecting it to pass through her but it rested on her. She however felt the same coldness she had felt when the woman had kissed her. She backed away again.

"Haze, remember that woman you were drooling at when you visited my grave?"

Hazel would have protested but her sister was right. So she merely nodded.

"She's a vampire. A very old one at that."

"A vampire?"

"You banged her, didn't you? Or was her who banged you?"

"So, she killed me?"

"Nope. She did worse."

"Worse than being dead? That's not possible."

"Tell me, Haze. Can you see clearly in here?"

"Yes."

"So didn't you wonder how? There's no light inside. And no light can get inside either. Don't you think that's a little weird?"

Being locked up inside a tomb was weird. Talking to her dead sister was weird. Being able to see didn't rank as high in the list of weirdness.

"And you have a cool scar on your neck by the way."

Hazel felt her neck. There it was on the left side of her neck, two small slightly raised bumps.

"Ames... Am I... Am I a vampire?"

"Finally. I knew there was reason we were related."

"That's a good thing, right? I'm not dead then."

"Hello? I just told you were in deep shit, remember?"

Hazel looked blank. She was not dead. She was moving about and talking. It was to her dead sister but still that was something.

"The hot vampire chick you banged. She has your spark, your soul. You need to get it back."

"My soul?"

"Stop repeating stuff. Just listen. You need to dig up my grave and take a small piece of me with you, my pinky would do. That way I can do where ever you go. Oh, and you have to wait till sundown. Go out now and you will get the world's worst case of sun burn, ever."

Hazel was processing what her sister had told her. It was crazy.

"How did I end up back here?"

"You never left the cemetery. You were all teary and emotional. Easy prey for a vampire to glamour you into their lair."

Hazel looked at the marble coffin. She dropped her voice to a whisper.

"Is she in there?"

"Nah. She's like this grand poompa of the vampire circle. You don't expect her to hang around here all day, do you? The only thing I don't get is, why did she turn you instead of draining you?"

"You are worried that she didn't kill me."

Amy shrugged "I could have used the company. The guys around here are all old farts. Not exactly fun. Do you want my help getting your soul back or not?"

Hazel wasn't sure. What if all this was another hallucination too? There was only one way to find out. She had to get outside. She needed to call Tess. She would be worrying about her. She ought to text her. My mobile! She searched the floor for her clutch. It wasn't there.

"If you are looking for your mobile, it's lying just outside."

"I need to call Tess."

"Yeah. And what will you tell her?" 

"Can you open the door?"

"Sis, you're a friggin' vampire. You can punch open the stupid door whenever you want. Tell me you tried to push open the door before you went all banshee?"

Hazel looked sheepish. 

"Well, that settles it. You'll stick to my original plan - Get out after sunset, dig a piece of me out, and go kick some vampire butt."

 

*

My Loving Dom

He caressed my thigh, the tantalising proximity aroused me to an extent. His thumb settled on a spot and kept brushing it. Curious to see what had caught his attention, I raised my head and glanced down at his fingers. It was a scar. He saw me looking at it.

"What happened?"

"It's old." I shrugged my shoulders.

"Tell me how you got it." The insistence in his voice was authoritative. Maybe he felt a little guilt that he wasn't there for me; I wouldn't put it past him to take on that romantic notion.

"My dog bit me when I tried to wrench my homework from her mouth."

He stiffened against me.

"What about this one?" He indicated a near identical scar on my other inner thigh.

I remained silent.

"Tell me."

"She had a daughter," I said.