Trystal Brewer Chronicles Ch 5-7

Trystal Brewer Chronicles ch.5

Reiden looked out at the black garden from the balcony of his palace in Zicir, the hell realm he was banished to four hundred and eighty years ago. For the first time in centuries the sky was a clear blue depicting Reiden’s mood. Here the sky was always a dark ominous color covered with storm clouds. Many of the trees here had black leaves except for those that bore fruit. Instead the fruit was black. The twisted tree limbs were able to capture anyone who walked pass them. The grass was a normal green and more further away was a small pool of crystal blue water that he used like a mirror to show images of his beloved wife. Anyone who disturbed him when he was looking through the small pond usually met his rage first hand without any mercy.

Today, Reiden was happy. For the first time in four hundred and eighty years he knew his wife’s soul was close to him.

“Have we found her my lord?” Questioned Reiden’s first in command demon general, Dimuren. He hesitated at first hoping he wasn’t in a bad mood.

“Yes. We have. I have already tasted her blood and when she sleeps tonight, I shall visit her dreams.”

He said smiling at the thought of what he had planned. By just tasting her blood, he was allowed to locate her anywhere on earth and even visit her anytime he wanted to.

Reiden left the balcony and reentered his palace. Outside it looked like any other sixteenth century castle but inside was a sight to behold. Black and grey marble covered the floor, the walls covered in gold with gem stones of every color embedded in them and the ceiling was obsidian with diamonds scattered throughout to mimic the night sky on earth.

He walked through the halls of his home until he came upon a door that held the symbol of what use to be his kingdom. A black dagger with a golden handle that had emeralds and sapphires embedded in it. Every time Reiden entered his bedroom, he always walked toward the painting of his wife he had commissioned the year before her death. She wore a red dress and had her hair tied up in a bun. Some of her hair escaped and fell against the pale flesh of her shoulders. She was absolutely magnificent to him. As he looked at the painting he felt a slight chill up his spine. Trystal was going to sleep, he could feel it. “Now I can help her remember.” He said to himself, smiling with thoughts of what to show her. Reiden climbed in his king size bed and let his spirit wonder through the dream world to find Trystal.

Lexi Sylver “Femme Fatale”

Residing in Montréal, Canada, Lexi Sylver divides her time between writing short erotica, and helping run a retail lingerie business.  Her passions for psychology, reading, writing and sexuality, all come together uniquely in her erotic works, which are centered around original characters and detailed scenarios.  Lexi is in the midst of preparing Mating Season, a collection of previously unpublished short erotic stories, which will be released this year.  For short erotica, sex positions, sex toy reviews, top 10 lists and more, take a peek at http://www.lexisylver.com/.

Femme Fatale

by Lexi Sylver

I knew it wouldn’t be easy turning thirty.

But I never once thought I’d celebrate entering the third decade of life crouched in a muddy ditch, armed with two revolvers, plenty of ammo, two hunting knives, stun gun, hand grenades, and a bunch of high-tech gizmos (small microphones and cameras undetectable even with the most advanced machines and cool stuff you’ve only ever dreamed of possessing).  Waiting, watching through my special x-ray/night vision goggles with bated breath and a stiff neck for the last two hours.  The guard pacing the north side of the building is called on his walkie-talkie, replies, then leaves his post.  I’d have saved tons of time if I’d just sniped him off from his tower at the get-go, but I need to be completely incognito.  This assignment is supposed to be a quick in-and-out recon mission, and being that I’m flying solo, I want to avoid alerting the two dozen men in and out of the biochemical compound of my presence.

I take a quick look around, grab my ammo and dart towards the north side entrance.  My quick movements remind me that I should also be armed with a full-support bra, always ready for these spur-of-the-moment situations, both for comfort and aerodynamics.  Who knew when an invisible sensor could go off with the slightest flinch to make you blow an entire mission.  Any professional female spy knows you should always be ready for action, no matter where or when, or why or who.  Because criminals have a knack of always planning their schemes at the most inconvenient times…

Lexi Sylver “A Thirst For Truth”

About Lexi Sylver…

Currently residing in Montréal, Canada, I divide my time between writing short erotic stories and running a small lingerie business.  My passions for psychology, reading, writing and sex have all combined wonderfully to help me produce original, detailed and explicit erotic works for my fans and friends to pore over.  I am in the midst of working on Mating Season, a collection of previously unpublished short erotic stories.  Read my erotic shorts, sex advice, and humorous Top 10 lists on my site: http://www.lexisylver.com/.

A Thirst for Truth

By Lexi Sylver

Currently residing in Montréal, Canada, I divide my time between writing short erotic stories and running a small lingerie business.  My passions for psychology, reading, writing and sex have all combined wonderfully to help me produce original, detailed and explicit erotic works for my fans and friends to pore over.  I am in the midst of working on Mating Season, a collection of previously unpublished short erotic stories.  Read my erotic shorts, sex advice, and humorous Top 10 lists on my site: http://www.lexisylver.com/.

The evening is brisk, a chill sweeping up her bare legs, signaling a change of season.  She feels his arm slide over her shoulders, hugging her body to his, trying to warm her.  She eases into him, making the walk back to her apartment more bearable.  They reach the front steps to her building, and she turns to him with a smile.  Without speaking, he grabs her in his arms.  She looks up at his shadowed face, her body faltering against the hardness of his body.  Then his mouth is on hers, soft yet urgent, the scent of him making her dizzy.

“Come up for a while,” she murmurs against his lips.  He follows her up the winding staircase to her apartment.  She fumbles with her keys, drops them, nervous.  He picks them up and smiles, reassuring her.  The key slides in the lock, and she opens the door, bringing this man into her personal space, her little world away from reality.

He comes up behind her and grips her tightly, sliding his hands down her back, finding the hem of her dress and slipping beneath it.  She moans as he touches the soft, sensitive flesh of her bare thighs and bottom.  His lips lower to her neck as his fingers wander closer to her most aching spot, touching her gently over her moistened panties.  She moans, leaning her head back onto his chest as his fingers slip the straps of her dress down her arms, the fabric falling into a silken pile onto the floor, leaving her almost naked.  He pulls off her panties, propelling her to the bed, where she lies down on her back.  Her eyes flutter shut as his mouth hungrily presses into her inner thighs, until she feels him bite into her flesh, the most exquisite pleasure washing over her…