Veckah's Tales

Dracon's Fantasy

Sitting at the end of the bed I watch them sleeping. They are completely relaxed for once; even dear Christian's ever-present scowl has been washed from his face. Laron's milk skin is almost the same color as the sheets. Her ebon hair makes her yin and yang personified in one body. Calm, serene, and so very beautiful, looking at them makes my heart ache and my hands itch to touch them. Not yet though, not yet, I want to just watch them for a few moments longer. I want to steal this time and hide it away from everyone, even them. I am a selfish man, I know. So for now, I watch them.

She has carelessly thrown her leg over Christian's hip; even in sleep she dominates him utterly. Yet, his hand rests on her thigh, touching her in the familiar, even intimately. This is a new thing and seeing it makes me smile. Yes, he is hers but now she also is his, if she will admit it or not, and both of them are mine. Not only am I selfish, but I am a lucky son of a bitch as well.

There, a twitch. Something breaks through Christian's slumber enough to set him into a tiny motion. A hair perhaps stirred by the errant breeze coming through the open window, or a bug's wing buzzing too near his ear. I know not and it matters only enough that it is there and causes him to move. He turns slightly, giving my hungry eyes more of his torso to explore. He is toned but not overly so. Some may call him effeminate in his slightness, but I have seen the man that resides in his lovely body and there is nothing effeminate about him.

Christian's shifting has caused a chain reaction, gently stirring Laron into movement as well. She rolls, removing her leg and turning away from her paramour. Her face is lost behind a cloud of her night sky tresses, so my ravenous eyes devour the rest of her form. The hard line of her arm stands out in sharp contrast to the gentle round of her perfect breast. Even her nipple is pale, barely a shade darker than its fleshy bed. How often have I watched them harden under my touch? Yet each time it is a new and sweet experience.

Lost in my reverie, I'm not sure how long moss eyes have been looking at me through midnight strands. She smiles at me when she knows I have realized that she is awake. I return her look, raising a finger to my lips, wordlessly asking for retained silence. She nods slightly as she beckons me to her with a small lift of her dainty hand. How can I resist?

I take leave of my chair, letting the robe that binds me slide from my frame to pool in my wake. I move to her side of the bed, taking her hand then kneeling down to look her in the eye. "Do you have any concept under the ever-sky how perfectly beautiful the two of you are in sleep beloved?"

She smiles at me once more. "You are a sentimental fool Dracon," she squeezes my hand, "yet I love you all the more for it. Come back into this bed and let me show you how beautiful you are in the moment of passion." Her smile turns darker, promising heat and sex, yet I shake my head, resisting her siren song for the moment.

"I have a request."

"A request? Intriguing, do tell."

"I would watch you with Christian, as his lover, not his master. Do you think you could do this for me?"

She gives me a hard look. I do understand how difficult it is for her to lose control, how hard it is to relinquish the roles they have taken, yet I do not back down. I desire this, I desire them, I will have it if she is willing to give it. Slowly she nods and it is all the answer I need.

I kiss her, my passion conveyed through its intensity, then step back to my chair, not bothering with the robe this time.