A tale of artists, intrigue, and the magical renaissance

Twisted Smut 4 – Nocte Noctem Prandium {Date Night’s Night}

Carla’s hair was lifted and moved by the slight breeze when they stepped out onto the street, but she couldn’t feel it on her skin. Normally it was such a small thing that she didn’t notice it, but the plans she and Carlo had laid for the evening made her pensive on the subject of touch and sensation.

How much did she lose, with her Echo’s life? How much did the humans take for granted? For all she knew there were some sensations so obvious to humans that they didn’t bother talking about it or writing it down, so she wouldn’t really know. Had Carlo ever felt something that she hadn’t ever had, couldn’t ever have?

She rubbed her thumb and forefinger together absentmindedly, taking her mind off of that train of thought by focusing on the sensations she could feel. There was no point in fantasizing about human sensation, better instead to enjoy the simple pleasures she could enjoy.

“Are you cold?” Carlo asked, obviously noting her silence.

“A little bit, but I’ll be fine once I adjust,” Carla lied with a grateful smile. He was very absent-minded, but he was also empathetic. Reminding him of the things she couldn’t feel would do nothing but bring him down, and that was the opposite of this evening’s goal.

“Alright then, as long as you’re comfortable. What should we do with the rest of our night?” Carlo asked casually.

“Hmm, I don’t really know…” Carla hid a smile as she thought over the question within a question. One activity would naturally have been dominating Carlo’s mind, but neither of them would address it, and they both knew she would delay it. Theirs would win a prize for complicated foreplay. “The sun won’t set for a little bit of time, why don’t we walk to the edge of the city and watch it set?”

“That sounds like a great idea!” Carlo replied brightly. He was such a good actor that his best friend in the world might have mistaken his enthusiasm as genuine. Carla was more than his best friend, more than any kind of friend or confidant or lover.

I’m his Echo, Carla thought with a kind of fierce pride, I know him better than anyone who ever lived. And I’m the only one who can tell what that smile means. They walked the street in silence, close enough that they could’ve held hands if they just reached out. Reached out and could do the impossible.

“Tell me about the food?” Carla asked, the comfortable silence giving way to comfortable conversation.

“Marchelli can certainly cook. Although I always wondered if he shows he face so much in the interior of the restaurant so that we’ll associate him with the cooking, and really the true amazing cooks are behind the scenes slaving away.”

“Riding on his cooks’ coattails is he?” Carla laughed.

“You never know. Maybe the only reason he changes the menu is so that he can hide the fact that his poor cooks keep leaving. I don’t want to worry you, but we may be facing a city-wide cook conspiracy.”

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” Carla tried to keep a severe face, but she couldn’t help but giggle. “You’re trying to change the subject, teasing me by waiting to tell me about the food.”

“You think you’re the only one allowed to tease?” Carlo gave her a look that sent delightful shivers down her spine. She had been right. He didn’t want to go to the edge of the city. He didn’t want to see the sunset. He wanted her, and it was as plain on his face as if he’d said it aloud.

They reached the edge of the city just as the sun began to set. Late autumn clouds blocked out the sky, and were illuminated in pinks and purples in layers the swirled and washed together. Carla sat on the ground with her back to the large wall.

“You’ll get dirt on your dress-” Carlo began, but then stopped when he realized what he was saying. Her dress was as impervious to the dirt as air.

“It’s alright, I already impressed you with the dress, it’s served its purpose.” Carla said before the pause became awkward.

“You look beautiful in it, but if that was the only reason you changed you could’ve saved yourself the bother. I think you look beautiful in anything you wear.”

“You say it wasn’t worth it now, but you haven’t seen what I’m wearing underneath it.”

Carlo gave a small groan and leaned against the wall next to her, and Carla smiled in satisfaction as he slid down to sit next to her. The pair sat on the ground with their backs to the wall and watched in appreciative silence as the colors slowly changed.

“I should paint a sunset like this some time.” Carlo mused.

“What for?”

“‘Cause it’s pretty.”

“Tell me about the food?”

Carlo sighed, and Carla leaned her head towards him, not enough that she would pass through, but enough to let him know what she was thinking.

If I could rest my head on your shoulder…if I could cuddle up next to you…I would.

“The roast was one of the best I’ve had,” Carlo began awkwardly. “A lot of cooks waste the juices, so it ends up tasting dry, but Marchelli isn’t one to make those kinds of mistakes I guess.”

“Mhm.” In absence of Carlo to cuddle with her, Carla hugged her knees as she listened.

“The potatoes were cooked in the juices, but he must’ve kept them in the oven after he took the roast out,” Carlo continued, warming up to the subject, “because they had crisp edges, but whenever you took a bite you could tell they were practically soaked in the roast stock.”

“Mmmm.” Carla smiled at the thought, watching the clouds shift from pink to orange, the light in the clouds dimming.

“The carrots got a little soggy because of it, but their flavor went well with the roast.”

“What flavors do they have?” Carla asked in a quiet voice.

“Um…haerit apii how to explain. They have a ‘rooty’ taste? A bit stronger than a potato, with a bit more bite. They insinuate their taste in your mouth, but with the right pairings that’s not a bad thing. Uncooked they’re so crisp that the crispness becomes part of the taste…”

Carla closed her eyes as he spoke, imagining the sensations and tastes like colors in her mind’s eye. Even the description of the tactile pleasures that humans took for granted was a delicacy. Carlo trailed off, and they watched the colors in the clouds wash away to greys before either spoke again.

“Carlo…”

“Yes my Echo?

“Take me home.”

 


 

The air outside must’ve had a chill, because Carlo shivered slightly by the time they got back. Carla could feel the edges of her dress brushing against her legs due to a wind she did not feel, but it could’ve been dry and hot or freezing cold and she had no way of knowing.

The two returned to Carlo’s room in silence, awkward for the first time that night, and somehow abashed as if sneaking into a parent’s house after a clandestine trip. By unspoken agreement they kept nights like these only occasional; special nights they shared as a treat. The length of time in between made it embarrassing at first, but the rarity also made it more visceral, more special. It made even something as small as the quiet sound of his door closing behind them seem significant.

“So, what should we do for the rest of the night?” Carlo valiantly attempted, shrugging the dark coat from his shoulders with one arm. “We could try another tile, or perhaps a game of chess-”

“It’s okay Carlo,” Carla interrupted quietly, “you can stop pretending we both don’t know what we’re going to do. I’m done teasing you.”

“Good, because I really didn’t want to try another tile,” Carlo sat on the bed and leaned back.

“But I would like to play a game,” Carla added, smiling but blushing at the same time.

“Sensation exchange?”

“We haven’t played that in a while. Alright. You go first.”

“Hmm.” Carlo gave her a look up and down, and Carla could almost feel his eyes hungrily raking across her. “Alright then, give me a sight: you showing off that outfit.”

Carla obligingly turned in a slow circle, letting the fabric of the dress ruffle around her legs, watching him over her shoulder as she did. The way he looked at her made her hungry for him. She loved that he smiled without knowing it when he looked at her backside, loved that his eyes lingered on other parts of her for just as long; her shoulder or her ankle or her waist. It was as if he was mapping out every inch of her with his eyes, and she enjoyed every inch that he mapped.

“Your turn,” he said quietly.

“Give me a touch: what would you do with this dress? How would it feel?”

“Silky. Ruffley, is that a word?”

“I’ll pretend it’s a word.”

“It has a lot of layers; I’d like to run my fingers up the sides, feel the way the fabric shifts against itself. I’d feel you underneath it, the way it moves against your skin. The silky fabric would be warm from your body.”

Carla ran a hand up the side of her dress, mirroring his words. The dress was cotton, not silky at all, but she liked his version.

“Close enough,” she smiled, “your turn.”

“Give me another sight: show me what you were hinting at before.”

“You know the rules; be specific,” Carla teased.

“Give me a sight: show me what you’re wearing underneath that dress.”

Carla was beginning to warm to the game now, and with a wicked smile she hooked a finger through one shoulder strap, carefully pulling it down to show him the top of her underclothes, just a peek at the black lace that adorned the top of the chemise she wore.

“That’s not fair, I meant to take the dress off.” Carlo complained, but his eyes were locked on the tiny strip of the exposed shift.

“Then you should’ve been more specific, shouldn’t’ve you?” Carla grinned. She carefully gathered her skirt in one hand, lifting it to slowly reveal her long legs until he could finally see the matching lace underwear she wore. She let him ogle for a few moments, but then dropped the skirt again.

“Your turn, she-devil,” Carlo grumbled.

“Give me a sight: strip all the way down to your braies,” Carla said triumphantly. “See? That’s how you be specific.”

“There should be a law against such cruelty,” Carlo blushed as he rose from the bed.

“Until there is, snap to it,” Carla snapped her fingers.

Carla was very sorry that her Stormtouched had broken his arm, but she had to admit she liked the slow, leisurely pace it forced him to adopt when taking off his clothes. The shirt was undone button by button, his chest exposed slowly, and then carefully slung off to avoid jostling his arm in the splint. While he struggled a bit with the button on his pants, she enjoyed the view of his chest, and the contrast of his small red chest hairs with his pale skin.

The short undergarments were loose when he finally stepped out of his pants, not nearly tight enough to hide the bulge in the front.

“I can’t add it to my turn,” Carla admitted, “but if you were a kind person you would spin around for me.”

Carlo turned in a slow circle. She was much more interested in his behind than he had been in hers, focusing appreciatively on its obvious tightness even behind the loose fabric of the braies. When he was done, Carlo sat back down on the bed. There was a fire in his eyes, one that made Carla shiver in her core.

“It’s my turn,” he said quietly, his voice a bit more coarse.

“And what would you like on your turn?”

“Give me a sight: Take your clothes off, take it all off, strip down until you’re completely and totally naked.”

“Aw,” Carla mock-pouted, already carefully tugging at the shoulder strap of her dress, “but I liked the way the flower looks in my hair.”

“Alright then, if you insist you may keep the flower,” Carlo smiled.

It was an absolute shame, not being able to tease him with the lace chemise and matching underwear, but rules were rules. Carla slipped the dress down her hips, letting it pool around her ankles. Had she been able to feel it, the cold air would probably prickle on her skin, but as it was she couldn’t feel much of a difference. Her bare legs and midriff felt a bit exposed, but the real effect was in Carlo’s eyes as he looked at her.

She kicked the dress across the floor, and it vanished before it hit the wall. If she had been in a cruel mood she could’ve dragged the process out, teased him and made him wait as she slowly stripped out of the revealing underclothes, but Carla was fast approaching the point where teasing was no longer fun. She pulled the underwear off without making a show of it, then yanked the chemise over her head so hard it ripped.

The underclothes disappeared as Carla stood in front of the bed, her arms at her sides, letting her Stormtouched drink in the sight of his naked Echo. She could see his eyes following the lines of her body down, pausing at the curve of her neck, at the dip between her large breasts, pausing for a long time at her sex. Her face flushed at the attention, flushed so hard that she was sure the pink traveled down to her chest. Breathing hard, heart pounding, she tried to follow his gaze. His eyes on her felt so good, and exposing herself to him felt so beautiful, she wanted him to keep looking at her and never stop. She realized that she was so excited that the dark curls between her legs were wet enough for him to notice, and the thought was both embarrassing and delicious at the same time.

“I think we should move on to two at a time,” Carla murmured, finally climbing onto the bed and kneeling at its foot.

“Your turn,” Carlo nodded. Her breath caught in her throat when she noticed his member fully erect, straining at the fabric of his braies.

“Okay first give me a touch: how would it feel if you could touch me right now?” Carla felt as if her face was on fire, but she managed to get the words out.

“And second?”

“Second give me a sound: let me hear you-” she was too timid to look him in the eyes, dropping her gaze and then turning away when she realized what that left her staring at, “let me hear you moan.” Carlo opened his mouth, and Carla hastily clarified, “a real moan, not one faked.”

“If I could touch you…” Carlo mused. Carla watched his hand as if her eyes were glued to it, as it slipped down his chest to obey her second instruction. “I would touch you all over. The sensations would be different wherever I touched, I think.”

“Sensations like what?” Carla murmured. Carlo’s hand had slipped into his braies, and through the fabric she could tell that he had grasped his shaft.

“I would touch your beautiful long hair, run my fingers through it and enjoy its silkiness. I’d touch your neck gently, feathery touches that send electricity through you. I’d touch your breasts less gently, I’d squeeze them and rub them and pinch your little pink nipples.”

“Mmm,” Carla whimpered. She couldn’t tell whether to stare at his grey eyes or lower where his hand gently stroked up and down.

“I would touch your stomach tenderly, perhaps brushing my nails across the sensitive skin,” he continued, “I would play with your pubic hair, gently tug, and then I would slip my fingers in-” Carlo interrupted himself with an involuntary moan, and Carla closed her eyes, half disappointed, half relieved as he stopped. They were both panting, both trying to calm themselves and clearly failing.

“Y…your turn,” Carla finally said with great difficulty.

“Give me a taste: you,” Carlo said simply.

“And the second?”

“That will count as a taste and a sight.”

Carla smiled shyly, but reached up to her neck, slowly running her fingers down her body in the way he’d just described. She feathered touches along her neck, she squeezed her breast and pinched her own nipple, then dragged her nails along her stomach until she reached her sex. If she had her way she would pause there, tease herself a little and enjoy a slow build up, but again, rules were rules.

She was so wet that she slipped two long fingers inside of herself with little resistance, though she gasped at the pleasure.

“Oh Carlo,” she breathed longingly, but with every ounce of self control she had she withdrew her fingers, slimy and slick with her juices. Without any flourish she slipped the fingers into her mouth and sucked on them.

“Well?” Carlo asked huskily. He had obediently stopped stroking when he moaned, but she could see his cock twitch through the fabric.

“Sweet,” Carla murmured. “I taste a little sweet, a little salty…I don’t know.” Embarrassment finally overcame her and she hid her face.

“Lie down, Carla. No more games,” Carlo instructed, sitting up himself.

Games are all we have, Carla thought sadly, but she did as her Stormtouched instructed and lay down on the bed. Carlo slipped his underwear off, and she didn’t bother trying to stifle her moan at the sight of his length. He knelt at her side, not touching her but towering over her where she lay. At her moan his member throbbed, and the sight of it made Carla’s heart throb with longing and lust.

“Keep going,” Carlo said, and she willingly complied, slipping both hands between her legs to gently tease and touch herself.

“What would you do, Carlo?” She asked as he grasped his rod again. “If you could touch me, what would you do?”

“I would touch every inch of you. I would take you. I would make love to you. I would fuck you.”

Carla’s fingers were wet, and they slid across her clit with slippery abandon. Her lover’s heavy breathing and the words he spoke were setting her on fire one inch at a time, and she plunged fingers inside herself with a small cry.

“Keep going,” she gasped, though it was already enough that she almost writhed on the bed.

“I would thrust inside you, feel how warm and wet you are, thrust as deep into your body as I could and enjoy your gasps as you loved every second.”

There was too much pleasure to ask him to continue, but she begged him with her mind each time her fingers slammed home.

“I would wrap you in my arms and hold you and never let go.”

Carlo and Carla came at the same time.

A few seconds of orgasm, a few divine, wonderful seconds as the pleasure burnt reality away from her brain and let her be free. A few agonizing, dazzling seconds where she could believe that they were truly together. Carlo, her Carlo, would spill his seed on her, then collapse onto her, he would hold her in his arms and she would stroke his hair. She would smell his scent and feel his heartbeat against her naked breasts, he would touch her and fondle her and kiss her lips…

The orgasm died away, and became just pleasure again, mediocre and barely satisfying. Her sex quivered and clenched at her own fingers, and she rode the waves of enjoyment until they broke, then let her hand fall and kept her eyes closed until the ripples of aftershock left her. Carlo flopped to the bed next to her, his beautiful body relaxed, his limp member spent.

Paren precor,” he suddenly swore, “that will have landed on the sheets, not you. I should clean that up.”

“Leave it,” Carla sighed. “Just…lay with me here, for a bit?”

“Of course,” Carlo said. They lay in silence, Carla carefully laying so as not to overlap with him, so she could pretend that she only needed to reach out to touch him.

“I love you Carla,” Carlo broke the silence, clearly on the edge of sleep, “I love you more than the world.”

“I love you too, Carlo,” Carla responded, but her Stormtouched was already asleep. She watched his chest rise and fall for long long moments, until her own eyes began to droop.

“You are my world,” she whispered.

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6 responses

  1. zeuseus

    I’d like to run by fingers – my
    “I love you more that the world.” – than

    … I’m gonna go sit in a corner and cry now.

    Like

    2014-09-18 at 12:16 am

    • Fixed and fixed, thanks for the catches! Sorry about all that crying…

      Like

      2014-09-19 at 6:28 am

  2. That was… simultaneously everything I hoped, and absolutely NOTHING that I expected. I love the sensation swap game.

    Phew. That Was Hot.

    Of course, now I have more questions. Since echoes can touch each other, do you ever have instances of echos making love? Are echoes always gender opposites? if they can make love, can they get pregnant? (things to be answered in the future, Im hoping! )

    Like

    2014-09-21 at 11:43 am

    • CaptainPedantic

      It would appear that echoes are whatever gender the person is dominantly attracted to. If that is true then I wonder how Maddi will work in other sexual identities such as true bisexuality, asexuality or pansexuality.

      Like

      2014-09-22 at 10:55 am

      • And if thats the case, what if the echo’s gender identity and or sexual preference DOESNT match. hmm, that could… cause issues.

        Like

        2014-09-22 at 1:35 pm

  3. Beautiful pictures! I especially love the first one of your window with the plants. Your boxes and stamps in the previous post are delightful! What beautiful work you do.

    Like

    2017-04-20 at 12:57 pm

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