Well since everyone seems to be posting their entries from the Great Kirby Smut Contest, I figure I might do so as well.
Here it is, my first every attempt at writing porn.
BOUNDARY OF LONELINESSNights were supposed to be dark. Black and blue, with silvery stars shining in their thousands in the skies above. The way she remembered them back when she was the fury of the battlefield.
***
Back before she became a phantom, a snake, a terrorist.
The heavens above the enormous metropolis of Tokyo were anything but the clear desert skies of her childhood. The innumerable lights of the monstrous city illuminated the night, dying orange the clouds that were lazily rolling over the night sky, as if they, too, were taking a rest until the daybreak.
The wall opposite the entrance door was one giant glass panel, offering a breathtaking view across the endless city. In turn, the room was always bathed in the dimmed blue and orange of the countless lights shining from below.
She was leaning against the window, her head tilted so that she felt the hard, cold glass against the end of her cheekbone. Her eyes were dim, unfocused.
“Don’t you ever get tired?”
“I can’t sleep.”
“You never can...”
The other woman’s voice rarely betrayed emotion, but when it did there was no mistaking it.
Irritability. Frustration. And sadness.
“Your mind is elsewhere again,” she whispered as she rolled over in their bed to look at her lover, “Isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Come back to bed.”
Alphard turned her gaze from the streets below.
“What is it, Ryougi?”
“Just come to bed already.”
Impatience. Frustration. And more sadness.
“Alright.”
She slipped her nightgown down her shoulders, leaving it in a pile next to the bed.
Shiki raised her head a little to admire the sight. Not satisfied with just looking at Alphard as she climbed into bed, Shiki ran her fingers down a naked shoulder, feeling her lover’s collarbone under the tips of her fingers.
“Seems to be your favourite part,” Alphard observed, lying down next to Ryougi.
She tilted her head a little, giving more space. Her strongly-built shoulders shuddered for a brief moment when Shiki’s fingers reached the base of her neck.
“Perhaps...” the woman replied. Her pale and thin lips curved awkwardly as she mouthed the words.
Favourite and most hated at the same time.
As Shiki’s soft fingers continued to play with Alphard’s muscular physique, spiralling down the woman’s chest, her eyes remained fixed on the collarbone protruding starkly under the dark olive skin.
Blacker than the charcoal hair of her lover. Redder than the leather jacket she still wore whenever she roamed the city streets alone at night. Coiling around the bone then splitting into dozens of sharp ends at the base of the woman’s neck.
A line of death.
“Now it’s you whose mind is somewhere else.”
Shiki’s eyes met Alphard’s.
“Tell me, what do you see?”
“I see you?”
“Don’t play around. Like I told you that evening, I can tell your eyes are not normal.”
“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”
Alphard bit her lip and averted her gaze.
“Each gets two rules, right? That’s also something you said that evening,” Shiki’s voice was cold. Cold, but faltering. “So stick to it.”
“Sorry.”
“You’re always sorry.”
Alphard couldn’t find words to try and retort to that. She knew that Shiki was right.
Ever since that fateful day, on a lonely train in the desert, her life was one of regrets. A never-ending ‘sorry’. Even if she denied it. Even if she refused to admit it to herself.
Alphard wasn’t particularly good with words. Like all predators, she preferred to rely on and communicate through her senses. Shiki was quite alright with such an arrangement.
They drank together, danced together, fucked together.
Words were superfluous to people like them, a burdensome annoyance. Words could hurt far worse than a fist or a whip could. Words could confuse, deceive, lie – lips and fingers couldn’t. Bodies always told the truth; through the swinging of the hips, through the feeling of teeth against the flesh, through short, shallow gasps.
Alphard pulled Ryougi closer into her embrace, burying her face in the dark, ruffled strands of Shiki’s hair.
“Can I make it up to you?”
She heard Shiki let out a long sigh.
Tiredness. Frustration. An ever-growing sadness.
Still, Ryougi nestled herself in Alphard’s embrace, her thin fingers caressing the smooth skin on Alphard’s back. Muscles trembled beneath her fingertips.
Emboldened, Alphard slid her left hand down Shiki’s bare shoulder, taking her time to take in the soft, smooth sensation of the naked skin under the rough palm of her hand.
She couldn’t get enough of Ryougi. Of her ghostly pale skin, smooth and soft as silk. Of her thin lips – teasing, sweet and dangerous. Of her cute moans and gasps...
Alphard reached between Shiki’s legs.
Something between a purr and a moan reverberated against Alphard’s chest. Her lips curled into a faint smirk.
A loud gasp escaped Ryougi’s lips.
She shot a glance at Alphard, her eyes wide open, her lips parted and slightly quivering.
Their gazes met once again. Shiki desperately wanted to pay the other back for the cheeky grin she was returning. But even more desperately she wanted to feel Alphard more. She needed to feel more of her.
Shiki buried her fingers in Alphard’s messy strands. She left a quick peck on her lover’s lower lip then pressed her hips forward a little. Alphard didn’t fail to take the cue.
This time Shiki let out a deep moan. She closed her eyes to feel the sensation better. Stronger. Harder.
“Harder...”
They were a good pair, Alphard fancied. From the very first night they read each other as if sharing a single mind.
“Please...”
Hints and pleas weren’t really necessary for either of them. But Ryougi enjoyed moaning them out, and Alphard enjoyed drawing them out. Shiki loved to tease Alphard, to see the stoic, muscular soldier lose herself to ecstasy. Alphard couldn’t resist toying with the mob queen, always dancing on the edge, probing how far she could go with Shiki – a true dance with death, even if she didn’t quite fathom it. Even if she couldn’t.
Mystery was what drew them both to each other.
A ghost-like princess in an elaborate kimono and an Arabian noblewoman in a black dress embroidered with pearls stole the spotlight at a cocktail party in one of Tokyo’s most luxurious hotels, celebrating the conclusion of the terrorist attack on Shibuya.
A mobster and a terrorist. Two killers were toasting each other in the light of a thousand flashing cameras.
“I can smell my own kind,” Shiki told Alphard during their first night together.
“I can sense people who have special talents, “Alphard said in reply.
Shiki felt as if her body was on fire. A jolt after jolt went through her body, resonating with every fibre of her being, every nerve and muscle. Her vision grew clouded, her mouth helplessly open, her dry throat letting out a series of ever louder moans.
Alphard briefly pressed her lips against Shiki’s, then slowly made her way down Ryougi’s jaw. A peck in the corner of her open mouth, then another one on her chin. With each kiss, Shiki murmured with pleasure. With each thrust of her hips, she felt a burning sensation inside of her.
Shiki was seemingly overwhelmed, and that was Alphard’s cue to strike.
She slipped a third finger inside of her. As Shiki gasped for breath, she buried her teeth in her lover’s exposed neck.
Ryougi had thought the pleasure was overwhelming before but this left her mind in complete disarray. She let out a scream of ecstasy, leaning into Alphard’s bite and wrapping her arms around her waist.
“Fuck...” was all she could muster.
“What was that?” Alphard said, snickering as she looked down on her lover.
Shiki did her best to catch her breath. Alphard was still inside her, her long and lean fingers teasingly poking upwards. “Fu...”
“Yes?”
Shiki looked up. Her chest was heaving with ecstasy, her hair had stuck to her face, and she could tell that her entire thighs were soaking wet. Still, she scrambled what little composure she had left and shot a determined look at Alphard.
“I said I want you to fuck me harder.”
(...)
The morning, they both agreed, had come too soon.
By the time they got around to eating breakfast it was already past eleven.
“I didn’t know they even served breakfast this late,” Alphard said.
“Well, they do for me. I own this hotel.”
Alphard chuckled. Gone was the devilish domineering grin from last night, and she just smiled gently at Shiki’s off-hand comment.
“It’s the first time I see you smile like that, you know?”
“Is it, now?”
“Yes. It’s a pleasant change from your usual over-confident self.”
“You didn’t seem to mind this ‘overconfidence’ last night...”
“Shut up.”
Alphard couldn’t help it. She chuckled again.
Ryougi, too, seemed more relaxed than ever before. She didn’t eat but merely sipped on a cup of jasmine tea, still steaming hot.
The staff had served them breakfast on the small terrace adjacent to their suite. The sun was lazily climbing up to its zenith, bathing the balcony in warm, golden rays. Two women shared a cozy silence between them, enjoying a rare peaceful moment together.
A moment without dances, without parties or cocktails, without pressure they only had one way of releasing.
It was a moment they had all to themselves, away from whatever haunted them the rest of the days.
When the room serviceman came back to clear the table, he handed Alphard a dirty and worn-out envelope.
“From Shanghai, Ma’am,” he said briefly.
Alphard narrowed her eyes at the man but said nothing and took the envelope.
“A letter? From whom?” Shiki asked once the man had left them to themselves.
“Someone who died long ago...” Alphard replied, tossing the envelope on the bed. She went back to the balcony, though now her mood had changed completely. She was restless.
“How do you know that they’re dead?”
“I know,” she said, “because that man never called me ‘Alphard’.”
“Weird,” Shiki said, joining her on the terrace, “What did he call you, then?”
Alphard took a while to reply.
“He called me ‘Canaan’. That was my name before I changed it.”
“Canaan? What kind of name is that?”
Alphard’s eyes were unfocused again, just like on the night before. Just like every day since that fateful day on a lonely train in the desert.
“A special name,” she said after another lengthy silence. “Unique.”
“You see”, she murmured and turned to Shiki. The line of death coiling around her collarbone seemed to be strangling her by the neck.
“There can only ever be one Canaan.”
***
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