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LauraInRed

 

This is a story that concerns sex between a man and a woman in a romantic
setting. Unlike my other stories, this is not a silly one. So don't
expect anything to explode, handcuffs out of pasries or evil robot minions.
This one is serious, or as serious as a romantic story can be :)

This story is mine and none of the events or characters have anything to
do with the real world. Feel free to archive my story as long as you don't
make any money from it.

As always, comments are welcome by e-mail. I especially like the
favourable ones, but complaints would be acceptable too :)

Laura In red By Shon Richards

At a Christmas party held by well meaning friends, I met Laura again.
She walked in from outside, and the room brightened by her presence. This
time I hesitated before going to her, but it was only from the shock of
seeing her. I watched as she took off her coat, jealous of a woman who I
only spent an evening with. She was resplendent in red, dazzling from the
bright crimson color of her dress. Once again she outshines everyone in
the room, and once again I was helpless but to go to her.

I appeared beside her, a fresh drink ready for her to take. She
accepted the drink gracefully, her red satin gloves catching the firelight.
Her eyes were as gorgeous as I had remembered, a clear blue you only see on
special summer days. The blonde halo that was her hair was longer now, but
retained it's vibrancy. She warmed me with her smile, and all the witty,
brave and eloquent things I had planned to say to her these past six
months, died on my lips. I was too happy to see her to speak. Too happy
to see that she was real, and not a fevered summer dream.

"Well Sir," she began, her voice cracking slightly with uncertainty.
"When last we meet, you filled me with such words that I thought the poets
of the past had been reincarnated in one man. Now you are only silent, has
time worn away the glamour of your Muse?"

"No," I answered truthfully. "I just wanted to hear you speak first, if
only to prove that you are real. Christmas is a time for when people long
for those things they cannot have. You can forgive me if I thought perhaps
you were a Christmas dream or illusion, born from a desire to see a perfect
gift?"

She laughed, the kind laugh that warmed me more than the roaring
fireplace we stood by. A crowd of people pushed by us, too engrossed in
their own debates to pay mind to the two of us. To my delight and
surprise, Laura placed her hand on my arm, just to stay near me. The feel
of her fingers, even gloved was a jolt that quickened my heart. I resisted
the urge to wrap my arms around her to protect her from the crowd, I was
still uncertain of where I stood with Laura in Red.

We were standing next to the stereo now, solemn songs of the savior
protecting our conversation from curious ears. She released her grip on my
arm reluctantly and sipped her drink to regain her poise. My eyes were
drawn by the simple silver cross she wore as a necklace. I was fascinated
by this little piece of jewelry, for it told me another small clue as to
who my enchantress really was.

"I looked for you after the Dance," I said suddenly.

She looked at me, her eyes enigmatic. "I thought you would," she said.

"Only having your first name made it a challenge," I continued, "and
despite my inquiries, no one knew who the Angel in Green was. Six months I
kept my eyes open for you, and six slow months taught me that the Grail
would be easier to find than an intelligent and sensual woman in this
town."

Her smile returned at my joke. "Ah sir, perhaps your quest failed
because I doubted you possessed the purity of heart of a Galahad.

"But how will I ever know," I offered, "if I never enter castle
Perilous." Then I leaned closer to her, whispering in her ear, "How will
you ever know for that matter?"

I was pleased to see her sapphire eyes alight with intrigue. She
considered my argument briefly, and then casually waved it away with her
hand. She resorted to the Greeks for her rebuttal.

"You remind me too much of what happened to poor Epimetheus," she said,
her mouth smiling with innocence.

The reference was obscure, almost trivial, but Laura had an ability to
evoke the best from me. I gave my answer boldly.

"So you suspect that I am like Pandora, and will open your secret box,"
I responded. "I have to wonder though, of what secrets I would discover.
Would they fly away upon discovery, or would they remain so that I could
scrutinize and study every facet of your hidden treasures? Would they be
as captivating as the White Witch's Turkish Delights?"

"If you suspect that you would feast on my charms forever, " she said
with an enticing slowness, "then ask yourself a question. Would it be so
bad to hold my charms in your hands forever?"

I was silent as my mind considered that 'curse'. I remember too
painfully what it was like to hold the soft mounds of her breasts. My
dreams had been filled with the squeeze of her feminine thighs. Even now,
I distinctly recalled the taste of her honeyspun covered sex. If I could
ever forget her vermilion lips, I might be able to look at other women
favorably again.

"I must commend you on your knowledge of the Fantastic," she said. "not
many people have such a good memory of the tales of children."

"If my mind can summon the Fantastic tonight," I began, "then it is only
because the Queen of the Fantastic is beside me now. You remind me of the
optimism of those stories. There, a woman was to be quested for, to be
obeyed in her wishes and to be treated with the utmost courtesy. In
return, the woman was a companion, a friend and the only lover a man ever
needed. If you think I am familiar with the fantastic, then it is only
because you make me believe in the fantastic all over again."

She answered my compliment with a silent sip of her drink. Delicately,
slowly, she let the wine touch her lips. I found myself jealous of liquor
as it entered her mouth. If she was stalling for time, then I was happy to
let her. Watching Laura's throat pulse as it accepted the liquid was
holding me in fascination. Let her stall, I would accept any amount of
time she choose just to watch her.

"Tell me sir," she began, "if I hold such fascination with you, will you
seek me out again after tonight?"

"It would be much easier this time, "I answered. "All I need to do is
inquire of our host, and your name as well as address would be easy to
find."

"But what if I asked you not to," she asked.

"Then I would acquiesce to your decision, however ill advised it would
be," I answered.

"Matters are not simple for me now," she said with measured words. "In
time they may simplify, or they may move me to another place altogether.
For now, I ask that you do not search for me."

My feelings were difficult to sort at that moment. On the one hand, my
angel in red wished for further aquaintances. Considering that the extent
of our relationship so far had been a heated moment in a park, I was
pleased that she wished to know more of me. It is difficult when you long
for a person to be unsure of whether they desire the same.

On the other hand, I was devastated that I might have to wait. Six
months after our dance in the park and I still haven't recovered. How
could I wait again? How could I wait when it is not even certain that she
will return to me again? How could I go to place my life on hold in the
hope that she might come back?

It was an easy answer, I just thought of Laura. As I looked at her
tranquil blue eyes looking for my answer, I knew it was no difficult task.
I would just think of Laura, and the rest is easy.

"Then wait I shall," I answered.

Surprisingly, she wrapped her fingers in mine. Through the crowded room
she led me, ignoring the curious glances from the other guests. The thrill
of holding hands was one I hadn't felt since my puberty. The intensity of
my feelings frightened me, but it ensnared me deeper into Laura's spell. I
didn't notice the Christmas tree we stood in front of until Laura pointed
to the presents with a sweep of her lovely hand.

"Tell me sir," she asked, "how are you at guessing games?"

Smiling, I reached down and picked a wrapped box up. Making a pretense
of shaking it, I closed my eyes in mock concentration.

"Oh this is easy," I began. "This one is a gift from a husband to his
wife. It's a gold bracelet, adorned with small gems. The gem colors are
unusual, emerald and topazes, but he knows she will delight in them for
they are her favorite colors. She will wonder how he found such an unusual
item containing an odd combination. He'll calmly answer that he had it
made for her, and that it was worth every penny."

She nodded her head, approval beaming with such a small movement. She
bent down to pick up a box, and I contained my sigh at seeing much more of
her cleavage than was polite. Laura could inspire divinity and decadence
in the same gesture.

"This present is from the father to his daughter," she said. "It is a
book of poetry by Elizabeth Browning. The girl about to become a woman is
disappointed by the gift of a book, and tries to contain her unhappiness.
Later, when the day is done, she reads poem after poem of love, longing and
desire, and her face often flushes. She wonders why her father would give
her such a wicked gift, and the answer eludes her for years. Only until
after she meets the man who invokes the same feelings as the poems does she
realize. Her father wanted the best for her, and gave her a glimpse of
what could be out there."

The next box was mine. I took a risk and went for a different kind of
answer.

"This present is from a friend to another. It's Hickory Farms and will
most likely rot in some desolate closet."

Another laugh was my reward, and it was double satisfying to see her
eyes widen in shock. I enjoyed watching Laura's range of emotions, and
felt a certain pride in knowing that it was I who evoked them.

"This one however is different," I said. Picking up a different box, I
told it's story to Laura.

"The statue inside this box is that of a mermaid," I said. "A man is
giving this to his brother, after a year of searching for just the right
one. The two brothers share the same fetish for mermaids, which came from
watching the movie 'Splash'. They had woken secretly in the middle of the
night when they were children, and in the quiet they watched this movie on
cable. They lost a lot of their innocence that night, but they lost it
together. It is their fondest memory as children, and as adults it remains
the one thing they can only talk about among themselves."

"I have my eye on that one," Laura said as she pointed to a tiny box,
almost buried in the back. "Look how someone took care that no scrutiny
fall on it. I suspect that it is a gift from a man to someone else's wife.
This poor man has been in love with this woman for years, but has never
told her. Looking for someway to show he loves her, yet still maintain his
anonymity, he buys her this. A simple locket, the kind that he has seen
advertised for lovers is his choice. He hopes she is impressed with the
diamond earrings he places in lieu of a picture. Because he doesn't leave
a name or a card, he hopes she thinks about who loves her enough to give
her this. In his world, the answer will obviously lead her to him. More
likely, she will follow the trail back to her husband."

"You have a talent for guessing gifts milady," I said. "But what gift
would you desire this holiday season?"

My hand became entwined in hers again, and I was silent as she pulled my
head down to whisper in my ear. In the crowded and loud party, I heard her
with perfect clarity and it gave me delightful shivers.

"I want another memory to treasure forever," she said.

With that request ringing in my ears, I was obliged to satisfy her. I
had visited the host before often, so I knew exactly where we had to go.
Hand in hand, we discreetly stepped through the patio doors and walked
outside. The December weather was mild, and the moon easily illuminated
the back yard. She trusted me completely as we walked across the dark
yard. We headed to the porch swing that was curiously not located on the
porch. It swung securely from under a large tree, safe from any eyes who
sought us from the house.

"First a bench," she began, "and now a swing. We appear to be fated to
confine our love making to the outdoors. It's a good thing that I love the
way your eyes look in moonlight."

I took off my jacket and spread it against the swing, my own face
flushed from your compliment. I didn't have a chance to respond for
Laura's hands were already wrapping around me. My eyes closed as her
wonderful hands undid the buttons of my shirt. Feeling her pressed against
my back was intensely erotic, knowing she was so close to me was the
greatest aphrodisiac.

When my buttons were released, Laura turned me around and pushed me
down. Surprised and delighted, I fell back into the swing. She placed her
hands on my shoulders and leaned close to kiss me. The tension was
unbearable as her lips of passion approached mine. Finally her lips
touched mine all of my concerns, all of my fears of her leaving and all of
my burdens of stress died in that kiss. As her tongue sought mine, as her
breath flared into my mouth, as her lips caressed mine, I felt myself
reborn with a singular purpose. That purpose was to be who I was for
Laura, and never had I had a holier mission.

The kiss lasted for a sweet eternity, and I gasped for breath when she
broke away. As I sat there absorbing air, my wicked Laura was exploring my
chest with her lips. She sucked my nipples into her demanding mouth so
tenderly. My skin shivered with sweet anguish as she breathed on my chest
hairs. Little bites and tender kisses covered my chest where my shirt was
exposed. Almost as erotic as her kisses was watching Laura's golden hair
bobbing so close to my body.

With my chest still molten from her kisses, Laura stood back up before
me. Spreading my thighs with her legs, she came closer to me till her red satin covered cleavage was so temptingly close to my mouth. Laura made
small lustful noises as my arms encircled her, and she beckoned me with her
hips. Instead of taking her dress off, I molded my hands to her body
through the dress. My fingers massaged her shapely legs through the
material of her dress. Passionate kisses of my own were like a friendly
storm on her bodice. She writhed under my hands as I sought to feel every
part of her.

Laura's hand touched my head, and she held my cheek more tenderly than a
lover. I found myself leaning towards her hand, my own hands forgotten as
I felt her fingers. They felt so fragile next to my cheek, yet also strong
with purpose. I smiled as her fingers moved around to the back of my head.
Softly, but with insistence, she pulled my head up so I would stand beside
her.

We stood for a moment, lost in the tempest of emotions in each other's
eyes. Then Laura unbuckled my belt, never once loosing eye contact with
me. I stood there, my own hands on the back of her neck. I massaged her
scalp as she unzipped my pants and let them fall to the ground. We were
silent as she undid the snaps on my briefs, but I thought I detected a
contented sigh as her hand touched my hard desire.

Conscious of the mild but sometime chilly night, I reserved myself when
it came to undressing my red lovely. I resisted the urge to unzip her
dress, which deprived me the sight of watching her full bosom spill from
her dress like a cornucopia. Instead, I placed my hands at her hips and
slowly inched her skirt up. I kissed her again while my hands performed
their slow labor. Our lips clashed again in a fever, in sharp contrast to
the slowness of her rising skirt.

When her skirt was finally around her hips, I shifted my grip to her
sort panties. Dropping to my knees like a knight errant before my lady, I
pulled her underwear down with me. She lifted one arched foot then
another, so that I may remove her underwear past her shoes. My goddess in
red finally prepared, I stood again. As she watched me with half open eyes
of desire, I folded her dainty red intimates and placed them on the arm of
the swing.

My Laura took control of the evening by placing her hands firmly on my
shoulder. Gripping the muscles on my arms tightly, she pushed me to sit
down on the swing. The warmth of my jacket paled to the heat of her
mounting me. The dress covered our joining like a crimson pavilion. My
face was smothered by her presence, my legs were encompassed by hers and my
rigid flesh was engulfed by her soft sex. She looked down at me with her
hands buried in my thick hair.

"Enter gently, my Christmas knight," she commanded.

I pushed lightly with my feet, and the swing traveled maybe a few
inches. My Laura made sweet noises as we swung lightly. Back and forth we
traveled, rocking delightfully in the darkness. Her molten sex gripped me
as my manhood combusted inside her. I was drawn into her, through her sex,
through her lips and through her eyes. Gently we swung until the violence
of our climaxes threatened to shake the swing from it's bolts.

When the fever of motion was over, we laid there quietly. I held her in
my arms with her head on my shoulder. I didn't want to move, I didn't want
to speak, and I certainly didn't want to do anything to disturb this
perfect scene. For an eternity that was over too soon, she sat upon me.
The swing slowly came to a rest. I was trying to memorize the smell of her
neck when my desire throbbed inside her.

"So quickly you recover," she said with a smile.

"I would return gladly to your paradise a thousand more times tonight if
time was available," I answered.

"A proud boast," she said, "but one I would eagerly allow you to try."

She rose reluctantly away from me. I followed her, and dressed slowly
trying to delay our parting. I was flattered that she watched me dress as
intensely as she watched undress.

"I will honor your request that I not look for you," I said. "But I
wonder what shall I do if you change your mind?"

She placed her hand on my chest and kissed me. I drank her kiss, my
heart pounding with attraction and fear. When she stepped away, she gave
me the answer I desired.

"You forget sir," she said, "that as easy as it may be for you to find
me, it would be just as easy for me to find you. Rest assure, that if my
situation changes, my heart will lead me back to this Christmas night."

Then she left, her red gown leaving like a comet from my life.

The End

 

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