TABOO TALES(erotica)

We lounged for an hour or so, the late afternoon sunshine much warmer than London for some reason, before deciding to go for a stroll, see the wide boulevards and avenues of central Paris and the beautiful people as they strolled, being effortlessly elegant.

Nia caught more than her fair share of admiring glances; she is a beautiful young woman, and even in this city of beautiful women, she stood out, at least in my eyes she did, and apparently to a lot of the passers-by as well!

We dined that night at a place called Astor, on rue D’Astorg, also in the 8th Arrondissement, traditional French cuisine, no arty-arty, Nouvelle Cuisine-fusion wannabe nonsense. Nia wanted to talk about the search for her sister, but I made it clear that we were on break from that whole world, and for now, for the next few days, we were just on holiday, in Paris, in the spring. So we talked about university, her new job, mum and dad, our lives together.

I ordered more wine, and brought out my final present for her, a little plush box. Nia took it without opening it.

“What is it, Polar bear?” she whispered. I opened it for her, and showed her the contents, a platinum and diamond engagement ring I had bought for her in Chow Sang Sang’s in North Point, Hong Kong.

“Nia, I have been in love with you forever, and you are all I want, forever. Will you marry me?” I asked her, my heart in my mouth as she looked at me, tears gathering in her eyes.

At last she smiled, and nodded “Yes, Jamie, I will marry you, just as soon as I can, I love my Polar bear too, and I want him with me always!” I breathed a sigh relief, not realising I’d been holding my breath, and slid the ring onto her finger. I hadn’t noticed, also, that practically every eye in the place was on us; Parisians have a sixth-sense about these kinds of things, apparently…

The Maitre d’hotel had noticed, had seen me take out the ring and ask her, had seen her nod and smile, because suddenly the sommelier was there with a bottle of champagne and everyone in the restaurant was clapping, Nia blushing furiously, breaking into smiling tears when everyone toasted us; well, they say Paris is the city of romance!

We left to the sound of congratulations, the Maitre pressing a small bag with red handles into Nia’s hand before we left the restaurant, and receiving a kiss on each cheek as a thank you, and strolled along rue D’Astorg, chatting, eventually stopping a taxi to take us the short hop back to the hotel.

As soon as we closed the door behind us, Nia was in my arms, her lips pressed to mine, and my hands automatically dropped to hold her peach of a bum, pulling her in close to me.

“You once told me you’d marry me one day, as soon as you could work out how, remember?” she whispered.

I remembered, and had thought of so many wild and fantastical scenario’s but had still no clue how to do this, except to drag her of to Mexico or Korea or somewhere like that, where our ID documents would be incomprehensible to the local priest, shaman, witch-doctor or bone-pointer.

“Why do you ask, princess?” I asked, and she smiled.

“Because I know how we’re going to do it, Jamie, and it’ll be legal, well, sort of legal!”

I looked at her, waiting for the big reveal.

She grinned. “What we do is, we go to Hong Kong. The only requirement to get married there is that you not be legally married anywhere else, I checked. I’ll change my name, and apply for a passport in my new name; I’ll take mum’s maiden name, Thien Lo, but it’ll just be a formality, because when we get married, I get it back again. Then we come back, and have it solemnised in church, somewhere out of the way, all those friends who don’t know we’re related, and a few special ones like Julie will be invited, mum gets to put me in a white dress, I get to write my own vows, dad, well, he’ll find a way to live with it, and we go on, married, like we always wanted! After a couple of years, I apply for a new passport, in my married name, my changed name shows up as my previous name on my application, and voila, change of status on my new passport shows me as married, with a new surname; Morrison, all nice and legal!”

I was impressed. “You really have thought this through, haven’t you, princess?” I smiled.

“Every damn day for the last three years, Jamie!” she retorted, “You kind of jumped the gun on me, because I was getting ready to decoy you away from work for a few days and pop the question myself!”

I suddenly really wanted, needed to see her, all of her, to feast my eyes on her tight young body. My hand found the zipper of her dress all by itself, and it was a moment’s work to slide it down and watch her shrug it off. Under it she was wearing brief little panties that hugged the cheeks of her gorgeous little bottom, but concealed very little, and nothing else. She was fumbling with my shirt, tugging over my head rather than wait for me to unbutton it, while I undid my slacks and kicked them off, levering off my shoes and pulling off my socks, to stand there in my shorts, my cock already tenting the front. The thought of actually being able to marry this beautiful sister of mine was a powerful aphrodisiac, and I wanted her, now.

In the three years we had been together now, there had surfaced no hint that we were anything but mutually compatible in every aspect of our lives, and every day I rediscovered her, discovered new facets to her, found her endlessly exciting and desirable; we had set the tone of our future lives together, and it was all I could ever imagine, and more than I could ever deserve from life.All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Nia kissed me, one hand rubbing me through the material of my shorts, and the other on the back of my neck as she pulled me in closer, her lips soft and gently insistent. My hands were busy, too, fondling her delightful derriere, and sliding up her torso to catch and gently squeeze her small, perfect breasts and rub her sexy nipples, teasing the little nubs into erect firmness, savouring the feel of the rubbery little peaks against my fingertips.

Nia gasped and giggled against me as I tweaked and thumbed her nipples, pulling herself closer to rub and undulate against me, both her hands around my neck now to give herself purchase as she masturbated herself against my hardness. Her closeness was thrilling and unbearably sexy; She was my everything, and I wanted to give her everything, wanted to please her, and for her to need me as much as I needed her.

My hands slipped down her back again, revelling in the feel of her smooth warm skin, to slide into her panties and cup her taut buttocks, rubbing my fingers in the creases where the swell of the buttocks curves to meet the top of the thighs, sliding into the warm cleft between the cheeks and pulling them apart to mould and massage the satiny globes of her bottom.

Nia gasped and sighed as my fingers brushed across the rear of her slit, moist warmth already apparent as I gently probed and caressed, then I hooked the waistband of the wispy garment, pushing it down to her thighs, and Nia wriggled her hips to send it floating to the floor. As she stepped out of her last garment, I slid down my shorts, my excitement plain to see, Nia took hold of me and began squeezing me as she slid her hand up and down, her tongue darting inside my mouth as she masturbated me.

I slid my hand between her legs, feeling the damp heat of her little pussy, exploring the depth of her arousal as I slid a finger along the crease between her labia, rubbing gently but insistently, and then sliding a finger between them, feeling her inner heat and smelling her excitement as her arousal climbed. I continued to rub and insert a finger into her, circling her clitoris before rubbing gently at the little bead as it emerged from its hiding place and began to swell and become firm against my probing finger.

We broke by mutual consent, needing to go further, and made our way to the bed, where I pulled Nia to me and began kissing her again, ready to take up where I had left off. I slid between her thighs, Nia opening them wide for me, inviting me to take what I wanted, but right now, I wanted to give. I dipped down and kissed and then lightly lapped at her rapidly swelling labia, the hairless lips engorging under my tongue, flushing darker as blood flowed to the area, increasing her sensitivity as the labia swelled and flowered open under my tongue.

She was sighing and gently squirming, thrusting her hips up to meet my tongue, and I pointed my tongue and probed deeper into her coral pinkness, feeling and tasting her inner lips, the nymphae surrounding and enclosing her vagina proper, and then retreated, licking gently at her now completely un-hooded clitoris, the pale nub firm and slick against my tongue. As I touched it with my tongue, a shudder went through her, and she held my head in both hands, to keep me in place while I lapped her with tiny strokes, keeping her pleasured as I tasted and enjoyed her secretions, her juices musky, fresh and tangy, strong, heady and alluring.

I lapped at her steadily, Nia sighing and murmuring, gasping as I did something she particularly like, my tongue alternately probing and lapping, caressing or rasping, taking her to the brink again and again, our old game, her body language telling me she was nearing the point of no return, and so I licked her from her little pink rosebud to the apex of her vulva, before sucking her clitoris gently into my mouth and gently rasping it with my tongue.