To Transcend the Flesh

I stood briskly, eyes clearing enough to view the restroom compartment beside the bed and the pool of water in the middle of the floor. Wait, I thought to myself, almost tripping into the bluish waters. A pool of water in the middle of the floor? Scratching my scalp with short nails, my eyes studied the way the raven black rug seemed to flow into a marble bathtub in the center of the room and how that tub was constantly churning as if powered by a faucet or natural spring. A miracle of modern plumbing, I hoped. Some things in this world simply Had to be mundane. Didn't they?

The light suddenly shot through the wall of glass, breaking my concentration; a brilliant spear of yellow-orange that seemed to move from the floor to the ceiling in a sweep of it's airy hand, highlighting the etchings into an amazing splendor. The figures upon the glass abruptly seemed to flow, moving with life. My eyes, trained in the arts, read the runes on the glass that were formed by the movements of the etchings absently before my feet padded their own way to the amazing sight. Azrof. Wyvet. Marxin, and many more flew beneath my glance as I helplessly studied the courtyard beyond.

Lavish green flowed beneath the five story exterior, a lawn decorated not with grass, as was want of many fashionable people, but with trees of all types, began barely six inches below my window-wall. The trees smattered around a weave-work of trails who's knot reminded me of Celtic rope-work; gave a sense of eternity, granted peace. Foreverness. Looking away for a moment I noticed that the sun had pierced the tree's barricade only by design; the trees were placed in a pattern to allow light in different areas of the building at different times of day. Smiling faintly at the antics of my teacher I noticed that the trees to the left and right of my room were several feet taller. He woke me up this early as surely as if he had turned on the lightbulb and shouted "Darian, Fire!" Eyes widening at the mind that must have created such a thing, I mused a moment on my teacher. The chuckle that resounded from my belly was in his honor; an unfocused moment before I gathered myself into a leap. I leapt, using other than my physical; I used my focus for a moment to consider how the trees must look from above. And my existence was rocked.

The trees, oak and elm, ironwood and dogwood, made, with their leaves, a face. A living face; the face of a woman. Her hair was the richest red, a red that mimicked the sun, and her lips were a flushed pink that only dogwoods could create. Her green-tinted flesh was as beautiful as any imagination and her face seemed to change expressions as the wind softly swayed through the treetops. Nothing marred that face; even the trails and animals that lived within the forest seemed to have respect for that, most Devine, visage. The neck of the creation flowed into the building as a wave crashed into a rock wall, and with just as much noise. The abrupt ending of her was enough to tear into my soul, choking a sob from my body before I clamped down on the emotion and settled back into flesh bindings.

"Oh Master, you torment yourself so. No wonder you acted to disinterested in the blonde beauty..." My words trailed off a lonely moment into a silence as heavy as any lead weight.

Breaking my focus on the Window, I turned and ignored the splendor that surrounded me, needing to focus on my own breathing rather than that which the Master had created to torment himself. I bathed thoughtlessly, not noticing that the water cleaned flesh as surely as if soap had been applied, without noticing my hair was more glossily healthy than ever and without noticing that I smelt of peaches.

I stood, letting the water dry from my flesh with a wave of warmth that eroded the icy shell that water usually leaves about a person, and placed my clean robes about my shoulders.

I was considering leaving my room and what manner of effort it would take to find my way around the huge complex when I heard a knock at my door.

"Are you here?" The questing voice wavered slightly with a very feminine fear.

"Only if your not talking to the door, lady." I answered jokingly and opened the door, the soundless movement causing the newly dressed Catherine to step back suddenly. Evidently she had been learning against it, hoping against hope, that someone would be here.

She half smiled at my quip, ruby lips twisting much like a rag being rung. "My name is Catherine...I do not believe we have er....met?" Her manner was strangely flirtatious; perhaps she was attempting to coo her way out of the mansion. I reconsidered for a moment, thinking to myself, 'the lady has had a tough night and is being friendly Dar, just calm down.'

"I am Darian, nice to meet you." I answered as sweetly as I could, shaking her hand briskly.

"Catherine here. Darian, do you know where we are?" She gestured about her grandly, indicating the setting.

"Unfortunately Catherine, the Master has never shown me his home before. I am as in the dark as you are."

"You call him, Master?" She asked with a fearful curiosity that reminded me of her namesake, a Siamese I once loved.

"Aye, he taught me the ways of Enlightenment, though he is not a practitioner." I shook my head raptly, indicating that the conversation should cease in that direction and asked, instead, "And you, Catherine, what do you do?"

___

My reply to his soft tones was hesitant, showing so much of myself, "I work in body-art...Darian." I kept the smile plastered on my lips self-consciously.

"Body-art? I've had a fascination with that for some time. It takes great skill, I assume, Catherine? I mean, making contact with another has to eventually burn within you… right?"

He's so shy, I thought to myself, smiling honestly. "Well, not really. We distance ourselves from our clients and learning how to draw isn't hard as long as you have some skill." Unconsciously I found myself contemplating how Darian's body would feel beneath my touch.

"Contact has always been a problem for me, so I really don't understand that, but I can empathize with skill." He made conversation with effort, as if he had not for years. How strange, I thought.

Enticed by the situation I stepped forward, closing the distance between us to a mere foot. "How has contact been a problem for you, Darian?" I made my voice a husky whisper, deliberately showing him my interest.

He showed signs of discomfort and embarrassment; his face turned a very pleasant shade of rose and his hands fidgeted with his clothing. "Well, I've always found that contact does something to me…" He trailed off as I reached up to touch his cheek.

Contact was luminous. As if a light had been turned on within the darkness of my body, I found a connection between us instantly ignited. I could feel how lonely and pent he was and he, I knew, could feel my interest and longing. It spread like a fire into him, an avalanche of lava that was mirrored back into me through the connection. I shook with the force of my desire doubled, then tripled.

He did not react to the sensations very much at all. He just gasped and shivered. I, however, was not so shy. I quickly shed my clothing, followed by his and shoved him onto the bed. He let me. Standing there, nude, above him, I eagerly explored his body with my eyes before I allowed contact to shatter my control.

His flesh was a flawless tan expanse of corded musculature, his manhood the apex of his masculinity that was, I somehow knew, perfectly shaped to fit me. It was wide, easily two inches thick if not more and long enough to fill me without bottoming out. I didn't waste time wondering how he had managed that feat; I joined him.

For Darian the sensations throbbing through his body were a painful temptation. He had not known the comfort of another for longer than would admit to himself and viewing Catherine, standing above him, naked was almost more than he could stand. She had a picturesque huntresses physique. Her cheeks were high and her ears slightly tapered, her blonde hair framed huge emerald eyes and fell just above her perfect breasts with large nipples and tiny areolas. Her pubis was trimmed into an elegant "V" shape that concealed only her most private treasures. She lacked almost any fat and her body was porcelain pale, just as Darian had always wanted. She was desire embodied.

My fingers moved across his body slowly, tracing his perfect, silk flesh longingly. I noted that the more erogenous areas caused a more intense reaction from myself as well as him; the bond between us made by contact was such a mirror that even tracing his hairless chest to his nipples made me moist.

I leaned down and ran my tongue around his belly button only to receive a throbbing stab deep inside my belly, as if all it wanted was for me to take him into me. I didn't give in, not yet. Instead, I flicked my tongue across his delicious lips and kissed him. He intuited through the contact just how I wanted to be kissed and that made it the most amazing experience of my life; we did not merely press our lips together, we bonded. Our flesh became one almost as surely as if he was deep inside me, completing me. It occurred to me then that I wanted this man as I had never wanted any other.

My hand went to his member, circled the engorged flesh and stroked once. The response in my body was a piercing throb that compelled me to straddle him, which I eagerly did. I knelt on the bed and ground my pelvis into his length, shoving my most need against his own. I came in a few seconds; it was an explosion that prodded my desire only into brighter sensation.

His manhood against my clit was sumptuous but I wanted more. So I took it. I sat up and reached down, ready to guide him inside me only to find that his member was already correctly positioned. Not really surprised I rocked back and down, forcing him deep within me.

His cock filling me was indescribably perfect. His width seemed to articulate to hammer me, spread me and stroke me from within, without his moving. Cords of muscle undulated inside his cock! Like some fantastically shaped vibrator, he was pounding me without moving!

Groaning desperately, squeezing my arms around my breasts, I began riding him. Thoughtless of the fact that I did not need to, I rocked up and down, forcing my toned thighs to move quickly as my desire was so potent that the thought of being without him inside me even for a moment was painful. The fact that he did not move didn't bother me at all; his cock was doing all of his moving for him when he was inside me.

"Oh Darian, fuck me, oh gods lover…take me…" I panted and moaned out my desire, careless of what I said as his need met mine in explosive force. Still somewhat shy and bound by an unseen force, Darian did not reach up and take her. Instead his member responded.

Like some super technological vibrator, it began pulsing within me even harder. He was fucking me! Fucking me! Fucking me! And it was the best thing I had ever felt.

I came then, over and over. It was the longest, hardest series of orgasms in my life – my belly was sore from them afterwards. Darian didn't but somehow he also felt the release. The Cheshire grin on his face as I landed the last time, with him still filling me perfectly, and moved my cheek against his hot chest, was proof that he had felt it too.

Catherine couldn't help but wonder, if Darian was the student, how good would Azrof be in bed?

End Part 3.

Note: I don't intend to write more on this story unless I get responses – it's a pretty big deviation from the Norm here in that sex did not occur until very late in the story and I do not believe that it will be a big "Hit" as it were.