Excessica Anthology BOX SET Winter (110 page)

This
was what had called to her. This was her heart's desire.

The
dark chalice that held the secret of the moors had been passed to Rhiannon, and
she would share it with her lover, forever.

About
Saskia Walker

Saskia
Walker is an award-winning British author of erotic fiction. Her short stories
and novellas have appeared in over sixty international anthologies including
BEST WOMEN’S EROTICA, THE MAMMOTH BOOK OF BEST NEW EROTICA, SECRETS, and WICKED
WORDS. Her erotica has also been featured in several international magazines
including PENTHOUSE, BUST, and SCARLET. After writing shorts for several years
Saskia moved into novel-length projects. Her erotic single titles include ALONG
FOR THE RIDE, DOUBLE DARE, RECKLESS, and RAMPANT. Fascinated with seduction,
Saskia loves to explore how and why we get from saying “hello” to sharing our
most intimate selves in moments of extreme passion. She has lots more stories
in the pipeline! Saskia lives in the north of England, close to the beautiful
Yorkshire moors, with her partner, Mark, and a houseful of stray felines.

A Life With Purpose

by
Sommer Marsden

At
some point the village had formed a word for them–
femen
. Femen had
been a meld of the masculine and feminine. A meeting on the line of the male
and female. At first the babies were looked upon as different. Words like
hermaphrodite were tossed about and uttered in hushed tones. Somewhere along
the way the elders had visited the small hospital and speaking in hurried,
furtive tones they conferred.

The
babies went from feared to embraced. Shunned to coveted. Families prayed for a
femen child. That magical being that straddled the two diverse worlds. A child
who could encompass the whole of our existence. Not simply understanding one
section of the whole, but seeing the world as it was. Light and dark, joy and
sadness, good and evil, male and female. The femen became sacred and it was
said that coupling with one could show you heaven and hell. You could
understand the all of the all. The physical and spiritual. The pleasures and
pains.

So
it was said…

* *
* *

Ryan
hoisted his backpack high on his aching shoulders. Shane had said one more day
of hiking and seeing what there was to see. Just through this special village
and up the mountain to their destination. They would find the shelter as
planned and bed down. Then they would travel back to the main town and catch
the train to the next stop on their journey. This was apparently a village that
needed to be seen. Shane talked about getting epic tail. The stuff that legends
were made of—mythical, mystical booty. Shane was most likely off getting
laid and getting a fix of fine foreign pussy–not a surprise to Ryan,
truth be told. Ryan was used to Shane’s preoccupation with bed post notches and
bragging rights. The boy was a walking hormone who could only focus on one
thing at a time and usually that thing involved an orgasm.

“Where
are you, you crazy fuck?” Ryan muttered and shuffled down the muddy road, clots
of wet dirt catching in his worn boots. Shane was nowhere to be seen. Neither
was Chris, their third partner in crime. Most likely at the village’s cruddy bar,
sucking down a lukewarm beer and hitting on a tired, sagging waitress that had
seen better days. Chris was a pussy whore in his own right. But he also wasn’t
one to shun a good hard ride with a hot, willing guy. Most likely to Chris that
simply meant he’d doubled the dating pool for himself. Chris kept it to himself
and was pretty good at keeping it under wraps. He didn’t know that Ryan was
aware of his healthy appetite for all flavors of sex and Ryan left it that way.

“Because
it simply doesn’t matter,” he said to himself, and laughed. Talking to yourself
was the first sign of insanity, wasn’t it? He sure as hell hoped not.

“Are
you lost?” the smoky voice asked. The person could barely be heard above the
street sounds of the village.

Ryan
said person because (he-she?) the figure stood in the doorway, ethereal and
long. Tall was the more appropriate word, he knew, but his mind said
long–like a river, like a path. Long and blonde in a sea of dark haired
villagers. Intelligent, surreal eyes regarded him— as dark as an eclipse,
they bordered on black. This person stood–lounged, really–in the
doorway of a small sad looking building. The building was more of a lean-to
than a house and it sagged as if exhausted in the mid day heat.

“Not
really,” he said, his words getting caught somewhere mid-throat. “I know who
I’m looking for, I just can’t find them,” he said, honestly.

His
eyes couldn’t seem to quit. As sun-stunned and tired as they were, his eyes
roamed this creature like she (he?) held the secrets of the world in the palm
of her hand. “Care for a break? I have tea on the stove. I have sweet cakes in
my bread box. I have a quiet afternoon to chat with a traveler.” The eyes were
dark pools that settled on him like hot water on a chilly day. Ryan felt his cock
go rock hard. He wasn’t sure why, but he was a guy and he’d stopped questioning
his penis ages ago.

“I…”

“The
cakes are homemade. Made by these hands and full of love,” the being said and
smiled. Was this the mythical mystical ass his friends had referred to? The
smile that touched his lips touched Ryan’s heart as well. It touched that wily
cock of his, too, and he’d be a liar if he didn’t admit, at least down in the
center of himself, that it somehow seemed to stroke over his soul like the soft
tip of a feather.

“Then
how can I refuse?” he said and climbed the three wooden steps into the shack.
His boots sounded too loud and so harsh he waited for the fragile looking
building to fold in on itself from his tread. Luckily, it held and he stepped
inside and let his eyes adjust.

“You
can’t, really. And think of me anyway you like. It’s up to you.”

“Pardon?”
Ryan’s heart staggered a little in his chest. Could this person see into his
mind? Or was it Ryan's heart and libido he was reading?

“I
am femen. I am neither, not a he nor a she. But most have a hard time. They
need one or the other to wrap their brains around my existence. And most feel
calling me
it
is too harsh, which I appreciate.”

Ryan
blinked, watching the femen move around the small kitchen. A kimono-like robe
engulfed a lean figure and the smallest rise of breasts budded below the
jauntily colored fabric. The hair was shoulder length, a tousled mess of honey
blonde with streaks of milk chocolate and red. It was as if all the possible
colors of hair had been embodied in one head of soft locks. “Femen?” He’d heard
rumors, but being a logical man had written them off as small village lore. It
had never even crossed his mind that this was what his friends had been talking
about. Everyone knew that the femen were nothing but legend and lore from a
small village in the middle of nowhere. Like the New Jersey devil. Femen were
as real as mermaids and fairies and leprechauns.

“Male
and female. Once the word was hermaphrodite, but we transcend even that. They
had to regroup to put a label on us. You can simply call me Kani if you like.
That’s my name.”

“See
that solves everything. Not he or she, just Kani. Nice to meet you, I’m Ryan
and I’m looking for my loser friends.” When Kani shook his hand a sizzle of energy
seemed to raise the small hairs on his arm. It tingled low in his belly and to
Ryan’s mortification, his cock tented the soft worn cotton of his cargo shorts.
Thank god his button down was untucked. Still, he shifted in his chair
uncomfortable about his rogue cock and embarrassed at his juvenile reaction to
her. Him. Kami.

Kani
smiled as if Ryan's arousal were not news. The femen seemed to know what he was
feeling, or that was just Ryan being paranoid. He smiled and tried to turn
away. A smooth, warm hand stopped him by brushing over his hipbone. “No need to
hide, it’s a common reaction to us. Very common.” Kani smiled.

“Oh,
good. Nothing makes me happier than to know I’m average,” he laughed and Kani
smiled again. The smile kicked off a whole new rush of emotions through Ryan.
Contentment, peace, happiness, joy, a touch of sadness, an urge to
understand…well, everything. A soft river of emotions that washed over him in a
gentle wave that seemed to lift him up and bob him along. “Wow,” Ryan said.

“Yes,
I imagine you are now experiencing the surge.” Kani poured out two small pink
cups of tea. The tea smelled spicy and rich, like Chai but entirely different.
When he sipped from the offered cup, Ryan was surprised to find that it was
actually light and almost citrusy in taste. He sipped again, wanting more of
the liquid the instant it hit his tongue.

“The
surge?”

“Of
feelings. The internal wave of euphoria and want.”

“Something
like that.”

Kani
offered him a plate with warmed sweet cakes on it. They almost looked like
plain biscuits but for a white sugary glaze on the top. At home they would have
been studded with raisins or currants, here in this small middle-of-nowhere
village, they were plain but the sugar was shiny like crystals. “Help
yourself,” Kani said.

In
his mind’s eye, Ryan saw a flurry of images. Himself, buried between this sweet
creatures legs, fucking Kani with slow even strokes. The kind of unhurried
fucking reserved for those few who touched his heart and not just his cock.
Then Kani fucking him. Then he was eating her out, in the next instant he was
sucking his dick. Kani was all and everything. Fluid and shifting like an
amoeba or quicksilver rolling across a wooden floor. Like a ball of mercury
undulating he saw it all and he sucked in a great breath. Mostly at how vividly
filthy his images were, but also from how quickly they had invaded his mental
space.

Kani
settled on the arm of the old wooden chair he sat in. Ryan stared at his boots,
willing her to move because he felt the rapid bang of his heart in his chest
because more than his next inhalation he wanted to kiss her…him…Kani.

“Why
are you here?” Kani asked, leaning in more, the sleeve of the robe Kani wore
brushed the bare skin of his forearm and his skin pebbled with goose bumps.

“I
told you,” he said, softly, nearly mesmerized, “I’m looking for my friends.”

“I
mean why are
you
here? Traveling? Why is a nice smart boy like your
traipsing through our little part of planet Earth.” Kani’s accent was lilting
and liquid. It made his face flush with heat and his chest expand with what
felt like joy. Kani’s hand settled where the robe had just brushed and Ryan
jumped just a little.

“My
friends are here just to say they were here and to get some ass,” Ryan said.

“That’s
good. Now I know why everyone is here but you. Why are
you
here, Ryan?”
Kami asked.

How
did he explain? His parents wanted him in finance, he wanted to be in the
business of helping people. He wanted to travel and help. Build bridges, bring
medical supplies, teach and yes, learn. He wanted his life to be about sweat,
labor, joy and accomplishment. He wanted to celebrate in the midst of people
who looked nothing like him and didn’t have cell phones, Blackberries or Blue
Tooth. Ryan wanted to dig trenches and make buildings, he wanted to sit and
listen to stories by firelight under maddeningly large dark skies dotted with
stars that could be seen thanks to total blackness. He wanted a life rich with
living.

“That’s
nice,” Kami said, drifting from the arm of the chair to his lap like a lean,
colorful bird swathed in silk.

Ryan
swallowed hard, praying Kami would notice his erection, praying Kami wouldn’t.
“What's ni—”

“All
of that. All that just went through your mind. I think
that
is why you
are here. Our lives are full here. Our lives are rich with community and
tradition and yes,” The robe swirled in a white flowered drift of fabric around
him. Ryan felt Kami bare under there. He felt hard and soft, warm and cool,
rough and silken. He felt everything in the world under one robe.

“I–How—”

“We
are rich in magic,” Kami said again. Plump soft lips came down on his and Ryan
sank into the kiss. It really didn’t matter what Kami was. Kami was everything.
No one asked the gender of the moon or the sun or the stars. They were. They
were accepted and admired, adored and needed and they simply were.

“I
see the magic,” Ryan said softly.

“I
know that. I can feel your recognition of it.” Kami shifted on his lap, her
face pressed to his. Kami’s lips pressed to Ryan's. Her cock pressed his belly
and Ryan’s cock pressed Kami’s back entry. He blinked again, waiting for
confusion, finding none. He plunged his hands into Kami’s hair and tugged him
forward. Him, her, the tags flowed through his brain. In one heartbeat Kami was
her, in the next he was he. It should have made his head hurt, instead Ryan
found it perfect. It was fine. It was good, even.

“I’m
sorry about that. I shouldn’t be so…” He let the sentence go, took another kiss
from Kami’s sweet mouth, welcomed the slide of her dick against the leather
belt that cinched his shorts. Ryan found Kami’s breasts with his fingers,
plucking the small nipples until Kami sighed into his mouth.

Another
rustle of fabric and Kami was bare to him, but all of him was glowing like a
firefly in the twilight of summer. Ryan tried to decipher, but there was no
deciphering. This was a mystery that was going to remain so.

Kami
leaned in and nipped his hear. He said to Ryan, “The more you are with me, the
more you can see. It builds up over time. Like a resistance or a mind learning
a new talent.”

Ryan
nodded giving his hands free roam to stroke and explore. A hard plane of
muscled flesh here, a soft dip of a feminine curve there. He sucked in a breath
as Kami’s hand worked his buckle, his fly, his boxers. Kami wrapped his fist
around Ryan’s cock and started to stroke. “I’d very much like for you to see me
some day.”

“You
are
magic,” Ryan laughed as the intoxicating sensation of flesh on flesh
carried him past the point of analyzing the whole thing. He wanted her. He wanted
him. He wanted Kami.

“I
try,” Kami said and he was wet then. His cock so wet and warm but not from her
mouth. Her mouth was still on his mouth. Something she had. Some lubrication?
Some ability. All he knew was the shocking close warmth of being wet and then
slipping inside. Another close wet sensation. A gripping humid tunnel of flesh
that secured him balls-deep inside this magical creature.

Ryan
found her cock with his hand, rubbing the same way he rubbed himself. Stroking
and caressing until Kami made small secretive sounds against his throat. He
matched her sounds, cry for cry, moan for moan. Her strong legs wrapped to his
sides as she held the back of the big wooden chair for support. “We won't break
it, don’t worry,” Kami said–in his head again–and Ryan laughed.