There are many legends of China long ago, of pirates in the eastern seas, bandits in western lands, desert nomads, raiding on horseback. My story is about Ah Su, like me, a virgin but, unlike me, without experience of men. Elder daughter of a noble house, she was betrothed to the younger son of her father’s vassal. They said he was handsome. Her father sent her with guards, gifts and treasures, across a stretch of desert to the lands of her future husband.
The Raiders of the Khan attacked her bridal caravan, storming through in a cloud of dust. The escort had no defense against the horned bows of that thundering herd. Terrified cries of her relatives and bodyguards drowned in the bandits’ whoops of triumph. They came in like a whirlwind and rode the same away, blood of the slain seeping into the sand, Ah Su slung across the neck of a galloping horse, hair undone and whipping in the wind.
They flew over barren hills to an encampment, a low tent floored with skins and hung with colored cloths woven by the women of the tribe in the long evenings of nomadic life. When her captor lifted Ah Su from his horse his gentleness surprised her. She stood by its sweating flank, her lovely yellow dress flecked in foam. He fondled the horse’s ears, pulled off the sheepskin saddlecloth, and slapped its rump. She remembered her silly girlish thought as it trotted away, ‘How will I get home now?’ but then he turned to her and she found herself looking into slitted eyes of startling violet, lips wide and red as the cloth binding his brow. And he smiled, showing teeth so white she wished they were hers.
She had never set eyes on the princeling to whom she was pledged so felt no disappointment at losing a lover, only dwindling regret that she would not be able to fulfil the contract between their families. These thoughts came later because in that moment she felt a thousand feelings new to her sheltered palace life. The very smell of him was overwhelming, horse sweat and manliness, the light of victory in his broad flat face, and pride! He had captured a duke’s daughter, and the riches of her wedding entourage.
He seized her round the waist and pulled her close, her breasts crushed against his wolf skin-clad chest. His skin was a light brown and those eyes tilted up at the corners made his face look ever cheerful. He was the son of a Khan who once raided far to the northwest and carried off a fair-haired blue-eyed girl from the land of snows. Ah Su knew her later, wondering what her own child would look like.
She was ready for love, thinking of her wedding night, preparing herself for an ordeal with a stranger. Temeluk was a stranger but there was something …different…they connected that night, body, mind and soul.
He sat at her feet, and sang to her in his tented chamber. She knew none of the words but all of the meaning. His voice melted her heart, and she opened to him like a rain-kissed flower. Watching his face in the flickering light of the sand-lamp and hearing his songs she felt her heart beat and body heat. She wanted to be naked, to touch his skin and stroke his spirit-hair and, even as she had that thought, he reached out …
*Yes, there’s more to this story, and many more Erotic Adventures of Captain Harry West, so read on with a click here!
Extract from a Story a Week for 27 Weeks, so come back soon – or take the short path and buy them now with a click!
Coming Soon: Taoist Tantra, Sexual Secrets of Love