swordplay (part one)

Copyright 2009.  All rights reserved.

Part one


You started at the touch of the cool steel against your lower back. Just an experiment, I’d reassured you; a test of tolerances.

Sure; sure.

We both knew what the true purpose of this was, even if it hadn’t been expressed in words. There was something going here – a rite of passage; a voyage of discovery – that both of us wanted – nay, desired.


‘Just be careful where you’re pointing that thing,’ you said, half-gasping. I smiled, deviously.

‘Of course.’ I’d long desired a glimpse of you this way –bent over the bed – bare buns-up; kneeling. Who would’ve thought our little on-line discussions would’ve resulted in such an encounter, though? Yes, we had common tastes; yes, our mutual interest in kink had produced many a fruitful confab, but this?

…rather unexpected.

The afternoon had begun casually enough. Just a coffee date; we both had the day off and had wanted to get-together for the longest time, anyway. Friends from way back, there was always something more there – more than just a shared interest in the erotic, too. Perhaps it was because of that shared interested that we wound up here today, but whatever the case, when I arrived at your doorstep, you happily ushered me in, giving me one of your characteristically warm and firm hugs.

‘So good to see you,’ you said as we embraced.

‘Likewise,’ I replied, holding you as firmly as you held me.

As we lingered over the last of our coffee, the intellectual part of our discourse seemed to have reached an end. We’d mostly bantered inanely anyway, with at least one of us distracted by certain ‘other’ thoughts.

Daring to break the ice – and being the less introverted of we two – I popped the question first. ‘So you really have one,’ I said.

You paused, perhaps unsure whether to answer or just caught off-guard by such a brazen question. ‘…err…yes,’ you smiled, shyly.

‘Gonna make me beg?’

Pausing with your hands still around your mug, you looked at me, then looked away. Getting up from the table, you offered your hand. Noting the confusion written across my face, you said ‘it’s in…in the…bedroom.’

‘Aah,’ ‘I replied, standing. ‘Where else would it be.’

Couldn’t help but notice how…reverentially?…you stared at it, the summer sun gleaming off the blade as the sword lay, unsheathed, on the bed.

‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ you whispered.

‘Mmm,’ I said, feigning heightened interest as best I could. While not entirely clear what the attraction was, I was nonetheless curious to know where things might lead.

‘So…so, what do you like to do with it?’

You paused, reflectively.  ‘Well…I like the feel of it…the power it possesses…the sense of…danger…associated with it…’

‘Danger, huh. In what way?’

‘The concept of a sword being dangerous isn’t obvious? Sorry – didn’t mean for that to sound so…accusatory…’

‘That’s ok – no offense taken. No, I just meant, in the context of our discussions, I thought perhaps I’d get a better idea…that maybe you’d be…showing me…’

You sat, motionless, as if deeply contemplating.

‘It…IS…sexual,’ you said. ‘At least for me…’

‘Ok, I’ll buy that. But…how…?’

‘Well,’ you said, taking a deep breath, ‘the thought of being…caressed…with it…so dangerous, yet…’

‘Caressed. In what way?’

Hesitating, you seemed to finally make up your mind.

‘I need to prepare.’

…and this is where we first came in, with you kneeling, naked, over the bed, and me, sitting beside you, the flat side of the sword resting laterally just above your bare buttocks. Goosebumps covered the backs of your arms and legs, and I admired just how pale your skin was. Always was attracted to redheads – and naked, prone redheads, in particular. I just never expected that it would be ‘us’, together, like this.

‘Shall I keep going? Anywhere in particular you’d like me to…you know…’

‘Just…do what feels natural,’ you said, your voice quivering.

I paused, lifting up the sword. ‘You ok?’

‘Just…I just…yes, I’m fine. A little nervous is all.

‘Sorry.  It’s not you, it’s…me. It’s me.’

Setting the sword down on the floor, I reached over and caressed your shoulders.

‘Hey. You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you – and this was your idea, remember?’

‘Yes, yes of course,’ you replied. Turning your head toward my hand, you nuzzled me with your cheek. ‘And I appreciate that – more than I can say.’

‘Thanks, love. You know I care about you very deeply. This isn’t just about me getting into your pants.’

‘It isn’t? O darn!’ you said, chuckling.

‘Hey,’ I said, gripping your shoulder. ‘Joke all you like, darlin’.’

You turned over, lying on your back. You started to cover your breasts, but then, looking into my eyes, took my hands in yours instead. ‘Yeah, well, for a situation where the intent isn’t to get in my pants, I’d say you’ve done a pretty poor job, wouldn’t you?’


I couldn’t help but stare at the fiery red triangle dangling just over the side of the bed. Sensing that you couldn’t be terribly comfortable, I said ‘why don’t you swing your legs over…like so…’

‘Thanks,’ you replied.

I kissed you then, and though you seemed startled at first, you wrapped a hand around my head to draw me closer. Unable to resist any longer, I gripped one of your tits, squeezing firmly. You moaned inside my mouth, but not from discomfort, I sensed, so I squeezed harder. Your nipple stiffened in my fingers, as your tongue battled it out with mine.

‘Oh, darling,’ I said, moving my hand to your muff. Your legs parted to accept my fingers, and I quickly found your clit. Your mound was slick and moist, and soon I had three fingers inside you, with my pinkie tickling your rose. I pressed into both holes as you gasped, and I moved my mouth to a tit. Sucking and licking, your areola became a mass of bumps in my mouth. I finger-fucked you as you bucked against my hand, and it was then that I remembered the sword beside the bed.

Wondering if you’d fantasized about masturbating with it, my gyrations inside your cunt became more pronounced as the thought began to excite me.

‘Would you like to be fucked by the sword?’ I whispered, licking between your tits. ‘Is that what turns you on?’

Your only reply was a moan, so I continued my finger fucking. You were so wet that soon all but my thumb was inside, and I slammed against you mercilessly.

‘Do you want to be fucked by the sword?’ I repeated. When you didn’t reply, I extracted my hand from your cunt. As you watched me through widening eyes, I reached down and picked up the sword. Lifting it above us, you eyed it carefully, breathing shallowly as I held it overhead. Slowly and carefully, I set it down, the tip just under your chin and the hilt grazing your cunt. As I pressed the hilt against your mound, you closed your eyes. Squeezing your legs together around the sword, you spasmed, causing the bed springs to complain.

Just as you came, the edge of the blade sliced, ever-so gently into your breast. Your eyes opened at the feel of it, then closed as another spasm rocked your body.

‘Love by the sword – ‘die’ by the sword,’ I chuckled, collapsing beside you while leaving the shiny shaft lying across your quivering, sweat-soaked body.

Explore posts in the same categories: erotica, prose


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