Standard disclaimer applies.
The Night's Exquisite Torture
It was nighttime. It was time for the torture to begin again. He closed his eyes and there before him like magic was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He imagined looking down at her toes. Each one was painted the color of the Rosa rugosa, a very traditional Japanese Rose. Around her middle toe on each foot was a plain gold ring. The gold set off the beautiful golden hue of her skin. Moving up to her ankles each one was adorned with a golden bracelet of rose bells. When she moved each bell would send its glorious tune to the sky. Slowly moving up her magnificently long legs proved to be most enticing, making his body react as it always did. Her legs were sculpted, dancers legs, the muscles clearly evident as they bunched and lengthened as she walked.
He couldn't go on looking as the image in his mind moved to her thighs. He concentrated instead on her fingers. Like her toes each of the nails were painted the exact shade of the Rugosa rose. On each of her middle fingers she wore a plain gold ring underneath a band of gold with inlaid ruby roses on it. Each of her wrists showed a golden charm bracelet. On each there were five charms, a pink rose, a brown tree, a silver unicorn, a black eighth note, and two gold hearts interlocked. Each arm was slender and smooth. Her shoulders were strong, her neck long and elegant.
He opened his eyes and groaned. He looked down the length of his body and saw the arousal this torturous image had given him. He knew that if he closed his eyes again he would just see her and continue where he left off. He couldn't get her out of his head. With a growl he pulled the covers off and sat up. He stalked to the bathroom and took a cold shower.
When he returned to his bed he looked at the clock. Eleven o'clock it read; seven more hours of the torment caused by that infallible vixen. He lay down and again closed his eyes. As he knew she would, there she swam in front of him once more.
He moved from her shoulders to her graceful collarbone, clearly visible, and beautiful. His gaze moved to her full breasts, large and teardrop shaped; their rose colored nipples hard and begging for attention. He could almost taste their silken flavor. He begrudgingly moved down her flat toned belly, stopping only briefly to admire that golden rose that hung at her navel. He wondered very fleetingly how it would feel to tug on it with his teeth. Again, ever so slowly did his eyes move down. His sight fixed on the soft flesh between her satin thighs. She waxed, all of them did, he knew because he heard them talking when they didn't think he was around. She had tried to convince them all to go completely bare, but they had refused… and he had laughed. He had laughed loud enough to be discovered, and he had been thoroughly beaten as punishment.
He opened his eyes a second time. He looked though he knew what he would see. Before him was a thick erection, purple and shaking. It hurt. He needed another shower… It was his strict policy never to masturbate. So cold showers and baths were what he used to get his body back under control. It was getting harder and harder to keep to his policy however. And his girlfriend was beginning to notice that nearly all of their dates ended with nearly brutal sex. Sometimes he would call her in the middle of the night after one of these images. He would go to her apartment and fuck her. There was no other way to describe those meetings. She had asked that he not do that anymore. She had cried when she begged him not to come see her at night. So there was nothing but a frigid shower.
Once more he returned to bed, the clock read two A.M. As he closed his eyes, he was looking again at her smooth labium, wet, and hungry. He tore his gaze away, forcing himself to look at her face. Her eyes were bright, her pleasure obvious. Her pink lips were open showing just the tip of a rosy tongue. He stared at her lips, full bottom lip swollen from her biting it. Her top lip glistened from her recent lick. He moved to her ears, so delicate, slightly pointed, elf-like. He wished he could run his tongue along their edges. Her hair was pushed behind them, allowing the full view of her face. Her hair was long; it swirled about her body, framing the radiant picture that she made. He wanted to tangle his fingers in it. He wanted to grab fists full of it and force that pouty mouth down on the part of his body that was so painfully aroused. He wanted to feel that supple flesh under his fingers. He wanted to ram himself into that gleaming cavern between her luscious thighs. He wanted to bite her rose colored nipples until she screamed her passion. He wanted to feel her Rugosa nails tearing into his back. He wanted to cover her with his mark. He wanted to…
He leaped out of bed and dashed to the shower. His alarm went off as he stood in the tiled enclosure. The freezing water wasn't cool him this time. His body was like liquid magma, and this little sputtering of chilly fluid did nothing to change that. An hour later, he was still inflamed but it was much easier to dress. His running pants were a bit snug in the groin area, but running was doable. He left his apartment at 7:15 A.M.
10:45 A.M. and he was climbing the stairs to his fifth floor apartment. He was exhausted, and in terrible pain. His legs and thighs were burning, his groin muscle was aching, and even his lower back was giving him fits. He wanted to go home and take a nice hot bath to ease the discomfort. He was so ready to see his bed. He was not ready to see a huddled figure on the floor by his door. The figure was crying, he could tell by the shaking of the bundle. He stopped next to the weeping creature and kneeled down next to it, his muscles protesting. When the person looked up at him, his body reacted before he could stop himself. It was her. He pulled her into his arms, stroking that silky mane.
Time seemed to stand still as he helped her to her feet. She looked at him again, tears streaking down those normally rosy cheeks. Her eyes were red and puffy, her nose was running, and her lips were trembling. But he thought that she was still the most exquisite thing he had ever seen.
"Thank you, Mamo-kun" she murmured. She squared her well-built shoulders, and nodded her head. She stepped back and then fled.
He held his hand out, but she was gone. His heart fluttered, his body already hardened. He went inside and took an icy shower. He lay on his bed and closed his eyes. She was there waiting for him again. And he smiled her name on his lips as he drifted off to sleep.
"Makoto."