Silk and Silver

Sari didn't object after that. She drew her hands back and took her forefinger gently between her teeth as she watched me. I brought my lips to her cunt and smooched several loving kisses around her soft-haired cleft, planting my lips firm enough with each kiss that the squishy flesh of her folds yielded downwards beneath them. The last kiss I planted directly onto her gash, and Sari's eyes jammed shut as her legs twitched around me. But I was far from finished. I put my hands to each side of her white-furred folds and pulled them open, spreading her flower. The little button of her clitoris rose forth and greeted me, but I didn't disturb it just yet. The tunnel of her cunt was thinner than I'd imagined it, as it was encircled and partly shielded by a thin membrane which took me a moment to recognize. Sari's maidenhead. Her gift to me. Thoughts came to my mind worrying of what pain I would inflict on her, but I quieted them. I knew I'd do everything I could to ensure that pain did not happen.

More of Sari's frothy essence bubbled up from her in her lust, and I put my open mouth to her cunt, gathering her nectar on my tongue and swallowing it down. It was a strange taste, a bit metallic and sour, but I immediately wanted more of it. I brushed my tongue against her in slow, rhythmic motions, licking every corner of her wet cunt with every long stroke. Sari began to gasp above me.

"Is it good?" I asked her, but I didn't wait for her answer before returning my tongue to her flower.

"Yes," she squeaked.

I ran my thumbs affectionately over her spread folds, lovingly petting her silver shorthairs as I swept my tongue a bit faster over her cunt. Ready to start truly working her, I gave Sari's clitoris the first quick flick with my tongue. Her legs locked like an iron jaw around my head at that, and the flow of her fluids came stronger. I delved my tongue as deep into her tunnel as I could, soaking it in her wetness for a short while before drawing it back again and flicking it across and around her labial lips and folds. I made each lick of her clitoris firmer and longer-lasting than the one before it, steadily building her pleasure to the best of my ability, and Sari's breath quickened from my efforts. It was exhilarating to see her reacting as she did. I was glad to know I could please my wife.

When Sari's gasps turned to moans, I knew she was close. I planted my mouth firm over her flower and lapped at her open cunt, battering her clitoris with my tongue. Her legs tightened firmer around my head and she bit down harder on her finger. I pressed my tongue against her clitoris, smothering the little button with unending heat and moisture, and Sari cried out at the top of her lungs, jamming her eyes shut as she reached her finish and a blissful pleasure wracked her body.

When her pleasure faded, I gave her one final, parting lick from the bottom to the top of her flower, and I finally took my mouth from her cunt. Her sour taste was thick on my tongue. Sari was lying utterly still when I stood to my feet, and she watched me languidly -- still coming down from the height of her orgasm -- as I began to unbutton my shirt. I tossed it aside and pulled down my trousers and breeches, freeing my erection that had become so hard that it now ached. Sari's eyes widened a bit at the sight of it, but she did not stare long. She shifted backwards into bed so that her legs no longer hung over the side, and she lay properly with her head against our pillows. I climbed into bed over her and she greeted me with a deep, tongue-laden kiss. She spread her legs as I put my knees between them. I grabbed my cock and guided it forward to Sari's silver-haired cleft, but I stopped myself when I looked back to her face and saw the anxiety in her eyes. She was nervous, too nervous for me to proceed. I wasn't going to let myself hurt her.

"Okay," I sighed as I rolled off of her and lay beside her. I tapped my hand on her thigh and then tapped my own waist. "Climb on top."

Her eyes went to my waist and then back to me. "I can't be top," she mumbled with a weak shake of her head.

"Why not?" I asked.

"It's not right," she said softly. "Not right for wife to be top."

I let out a short, tired breath. I'd grown quite tired of the Persevian culture and how it somehow manages to be more patriarchal than my own. But an idea came to me as I lay there, and I looked to Sari again. "I'm your husband, yeah?" I asked her.

She quickly nodded.

"And you ought to listen to me?"

Again she nodded.

"Then I say it is right," I told her. "I say you can do as you like."

That seemed to have convinced her. Sari rose forward and cautiously climbed over and onto me, putting her hands to my chest to steady herself. My cock brushed against her buttocks, and Sari turned her head to peer down at it when she felt it. "You set the pace," I said to her as I caressed her thighs. "We'll go at your speed. Just use your hips. And if you want to stop, you can stop."

My hand is burning now from writing all this, but I can't stop here. It's so vivid in my mind. I'm living the night again. I have to keep putting it to paper.

Sari reached behind herself and wrapped her soft hand around my manhood. She gave it a series of gentle, delicate tugs, familiarizing herself with the feel of it, and I moved my hands from her thighs to her breasts, filling my palms with her warm flesh. Sari raised her arse a short way and pointed my cock to her folds, and she bit her bottom lip as she lowered herself onto me. She moaned when my crown slipped into the tight slit of her cunt, enveloping me in an incredible heat and wetness that pulled the breath from my lungs. Gods was she hot inside. Like a furnace. But she wasn't just hot. She was sodden. No less wet than she was warm. And she was snug. I could feel the beat of her heart in her walls as they hugged and squeezed my prick. Sari then sank herself down faster than I thought she would, quickly pushing my cock up to her hilt, till her folds kissed the base of my cock and the shorthairs of our crotches mingled in colors of silver and brown. She shut her eyes and winced at what looked to be a sharp, pinching pain.

"Slow down, love," I told her. I grabbed her hands and clasped our fingers together. "Don't hurt yourself," I said.

Heeding my words, Sari took care to rise slowly, her gripping cunt sliding up along my length until only my head still rested in her heat. Already I felt a tingling in the base of my cock as pre-seed crawled up and leaked from my crown. I knew I wouldn't last long.

The pain in Sari's expression disappeared as she rose and fell on my cock in a slow, steady pace, and it wasn't long before I began to hear the pleasure again in her shallow breath. She opened her eyes and met mine, and we locked gazes as she rode me. She bounced on me with more and more vigor, till her breasts jiggled from the force of our lovemaking. I groaned as the pleasure grew stronger, and I felt more pre-seed ooze from me as it joined and became lost in the moisture of her tunnel.

Desire was flooding my mind. I'd never felt so much pleasure in my life, and yet I wanted more. Watching Sari moan over me, seeing her breasts swaying, hearing that slapping of our flesh, it tapped into a hunger of mine I didn't know was there. Sari's pain was gone, and thus I let my lust consume me. I took my hands away from Sari's and put them to her back and pulled her down onto me as I took her into a hot, hungry kiss. I rose forward a bit, keeping my hands to Sari's back, and I spun us around in one effortless flourish so that Sari lay on her back, all while keeping our lips joined in a kiss and keeping my manhood sheathed inside her. I put my hands to her thighs and pressed them open, as far as they would go, to give myself better room to thrust into her. I crashed my hips into hers, thrusting my cock hard into her sodden, grasping cunt, rocking her bouncing breasts. Sari moaned and whipped her head from side to side, tussling her silver hair as I pounded and ravaged her.

I was primal. I was animalistic. I wanted more of the pleasure Sari's body gave me. I wanted to feel her cunt gripping hot and wet on my cock and I wanted to feel it from root to tip. I pushed the whole length of my prick into her with every thrust, not once misfiring, not once letting my crown slip from her depths. A priest would've called my lust sinful. But if Sari is a gift from the Gods, then she is a gift I won't waste.

My legs tensed and my throbbing cock swelled harder as my orgasm hurtled towards me, forcing the walls of Sari's cunt further apart. Sari seemed to have sensed my climax. She put her hand to the back of my head and kissed me deeply and passionately, pressing her tongue firm against mine, just as I'd kissed her before, and I groaned loudly as my cock twitched and shot my seed into her by intense, blissfully burning contractions. I kept my length sheathed in Sari's hot cunt as the thick spurts of seed came one after the other, and though I could not see it, I began to wonder just how much of it I was putting inside her.

"I love you," Sari whispered to me after I'd breathed my last groan.

"I love you too," I whispered back.

I took my lips from hers, overtaken by a primal curiosity to see the aftermath of what I'd done, and I watched keenly as I slipped my cock out of her cunt. A stringy rope of seed hung from my crown to her gash, until it broke and fell onto the sheets beneath us. More of my seed suddenly flowed from her, making her slit drool a thick white.

I collapsed beside Sari as my mind lurched heavy and dull with tiredness. We slipped under the heavy sheets and embraced each other as a slumber came and took us.

69^th of Summer, Year of the Gods 1322.

I'd go to war for Sari. I'd kill for her. I'd die for her.

It sounds silly. It sounds of barbaric, chest-thumping bluster, I know it does. But I can't help it. I feel it in my bones. I'm besotted, friend, truly and utterly. I don't think I'd be able to sleep without her anymore, without feeling her head on my shoulder, her arm around my waist, her breasts against my side.

My passion for Sari is a fire that has been blazing this past week. I can't keep my hands off of her, and thankfully, she seems to be rather enjoying it. We spend the better part of any given day making love, again and again, every which way we can, until it's nightfall and we're collapsing into our bed, our chests heaving with breath and our flesh wet with sweat.

The morning before last, after we'd awoken, I had servants gather hot water in a tub for us. A single tub. Sari took issue with that, at first. She said Persevian culture dictates men and women do not share bathwater. A silly tradition. A tradition that Sari thankfully did not hesitate to discard.

I sat in the water first. Sari seated herself in my lap, keeping her hand to my prick as she guided it up and into her, and, despite myself being submerged in the water, I felt her. I so very much felt her. As hot as the water was, her cunt was hotter. No matter how many nights Sari and I join our flesh, the bliss Sari's depths showers my manhood in never fails to leave me wordless, my open mouth giving nothing but breathy gasps and groans. Even imagining Sari's cunt now, not four hours past the last time we've made love, I grow lustful still. Sari is every bit a goddess of pleasure as she is a goddess of beauty.

The water splashed noisily as she bounced on me, crashing her arse into my splayed hips. There was no pain on Sari's face, nor a single wince of discomfort, not like when I'd first bedded her. Instead, her violet eyes burned with passion. Her lust for me was no weaker than mine for her.

I leaned forward and put my lips to her breast to take her stiff teat into my mouth, and Sari answered by pushing her chest into me, offering me more of her flesh as I suckled her. I ran my hands across her body until one settled with a handful of her silver hair and the other with a handful of her shapely arse.

It's hard to put to words the pleasure Sari gives me. Joy. Heat. Thrill. Ecstasy. Euphoria. I'm sure there are other words too. I've never been much of a penman.

When Sari brought me to my end, I took my lips from her breast and gave a loud groan as I rested my head against the tub. I closed my eyes and savored the pleasure as my cock pulsed inside her cunt, twitching in bliss, my heart thudding hard in my chest. I'll never forget the feeling of pure heat in that moment. The heat of the water. The heat inside Sari. The heat of my orgasm.

My eyes were still closed when I felt Sari press her soft lips onto mine. Gods, I could kiss her till the end of my days.

I'm not sure if we were any cleaner by the time we left the tub, but we were certainly more satisfied.

71^st of Summer, Year of the Gods 1322.

Sari's not quite that timid girl I'd first met in the Great Hall. She's different now. She holds herself well. She keeps her chin a bit higher, her shoulders a bit squarer. She's speaking the western tongue near-perfectly, as well. It won't be long before she's speaking more proper than I do. Father and Mother have taken quite the liking to her, and even Norman seems to enjoy her company.

Last night, when Sari and I were in bed, she was resting her head on my chest and telling me stories of her five siblings, of funny things they'd often done, quirks of theirs. I thought I'd heard homesickness in her voice. When she paused, I asked her if she missed Persevia. I was going to offer to visit it with her, if she wanted. Or, Gods, if it meant her being happy, I'd even live there with her.

But she said no. "I don't miss it," she told me. "I don't want to go back." There was no sadness or regret in her voice. "I want to stay here," she said. "With you."

Of all the things in my life, perchance I should feel most thankful for being born in good health, or born in this great wealth, or even being born as Prince, second son of the King. But I don't, friend. What I'm most thankful for isn't any of that. It's her. It's Sari.

67^th of Spring, Year of the Gods 1323.

As you may notice from the signed date, a great deal of time has passed since I last wrote, and it was not by my choosing. But it's good to have you in my hands again, friend. I've missed you.

I've moved from the Capital to Wulcirk, but before the journey, Sari and I had lumped together a colossal pile of the gifts we'd been given for our wedding, and some bloody fool had cast you, this diary, into that pile, and there you remained, lost, until just this evening. I suppose I could've purchased a new diary and started anew, but it wouldn't have been the same, and there was too much here to begin anew. Too many important memories to lose. But, truth be said, I doubt I could have written much in these past thirty-something weeks regardless. Much has happened, and it's kept me very busy.

Aunt Lisbet's only child and my first cousin, Pierce, died to a fever early in the autumn. My family and I left the Capital to join her in mourning, but with his death, Lisbet was left both widowed and childless, and there was no longer an heir to Wulcirk. The week after the funeral, the decision was made that Sari and I would take up residence here, and that Aunt Lisbet would tutor me in governance until she felt I was sufficiently learned, at which point she'd abdicate the Lordship to me. On that note, Lisbet seems to have grown tired of governing, and all signs point to me becoming a Lord by the end of the year. I'm struggling to wrap my head around it. I know there have been Lords younger than eighteen, but the thought still seems outlandish. I've been training with guardsmen, learning to better handle Silver. Honorable Lords are expected to be able to fight for their city. I've never been much of a conformist, but in this regard, I intend to be no different.

As if that alone weren't enough excitement to write of, there is yet more that has happened.

Sari is pregnant. Those three words alone -- Sari is pregnant -- don't seem to fully do the fact justice. It's astounding to see a belly so swollen on a girl so slender. Sari has said she will not employ a wet nurse. She says she'll feed the babe herself, which Aunt Lisbet was not surprised to hear. She says Sari is "motherly." When I first laid eyes on Sari months ago, I would never have thought to describe Sari in that way, as "motherly," if only because a child was the very last thing on my mind, but it rings true. I imagine she'll spend more time with the little one than even the nursery maids will. I've asked Sari if she has ideas for a name, and though she says she has none, she always says it with a glint in her eye. She has a name in mind that she's keeping secret, evidently. But I have no ideas for a name myself, so I'm fine with waiting for her to unveil her suggestion.

Sari's grown her hair longer now, as well, down to the small of her back. A river of silver from head to waist.

To think, when I'd first met Sari, I thought then that she ate a great deal for someone so thin. Now she eats for two. Aunt Lisbet says Sari's thirty-six weeks along. I should note that the night I married Sari, the night we first made love, was thirty-nine weeks ago. The seed was swift in taking root. Mother said it's a good omen for a couple to be fertile and sire children early. She said it's the Gods smiling on our union. Maybe that's true, but it doesn't ease my worries.

Seeing Sari as heavy with child as she is, I can't help but think of Mother and how hard and brutal Norman and I were on her, how I myself had nearly killed her in my birth, how she'd been forced to consume silphium after my coming, lest she die birthing a third child. I think of all this, and I fear for Sari. I find myself picturing her grave, with Pierce's death still fresh in my mind, and picturing my life without her. I can't fathom it.

I am afraid.

But Sari isn't. She lives each day with more confidence and courage than the last. She keeps her eyes trained forward, facing what lies before us, without any thought of things out of our control. She is fearless.

73^rd of Spring, Year of the Gods 1323.

It's a boy. He has my hair and my eyes. Sari gave him my name.