Spirited Away: an Alien Erotic Romance

Marauders: Chapter Seven -Tantra

TANTRA

Hsing stared at the depiction of a woman sitting upright with her legs over a man’s shoulder’s. The woman’s hands wrapped around the male caricature’s neck. The man cradled the woman’s rear in his hands while his torso plunged into her. The depiction showed them gazing into each other’s eyes, both of their mouths open in ecstasy.

Hsing pressed the button that advanced the screen on Shanti’s device. The sutra that he read was not in his father, Chou’s, hand. The words were an Earth dialect. The original text was well and truly lost. But many of the ideas remained.

The text began with advice on how to select a virtuous wife -definitely not his father’s thinking. His mother would have laughed him off the ship at many of the suggestions. It then went on to detail the many and varied ways two beings fell in love. Hsing skipped through those parts. Another concept he didn’t comprehend; having to put oneself in danger or harm’s way for the sake of a fickle emotion. Devotion was a duty not an unseen, unquantifiable, chemical reaction. Hsing skipped over all of the fluff and went straight to the sexual position illustrations.

It seemed a tedious business, the myriad of positions. But he understood the necessity. Eloh males needed to keep their women pleased so that they would open themselves to their males and allow themselves to be penetrated. For it was between a woman’s thighs that Eloheem reached the sacred space, known as Nirvana.

A moan caught his attention. Hsing looked over to the berth where his woman lay.

Shanti was tangled in the sheets of the berth, her thighs pressed together. Her hands roamed her body as she let out a breathy sigh. The sound of his name on her lips had Hsing diving to grasp onto the thread of her dreams. The image came back to him crystal clear.

In Shanti’s dream, Hsing’s dark blue hands were on her body. His fingers grazed her brown breasts. His mouth encircled a dark nipple. He tasted its sweetness. Shanti’s physical body jerked as Hsing’s dream self thrust into her, his petals clasped tightly to the dark pink flesh of her core.

“Hsing,” she sighed.

In the dream, Hsing’s hands gripped her hips and pulled down, grounding her into him. Back in reality, Hsing gripped the edges of the chair to keep himself in it. He reached further into her dream. 

In the dream, Hsing climbed to his knees. He placed Shanti’s legs over his shoulders as he’d seen in the illustration. He thrust up. In both the dream and the real world, Shanti cried out in absolute ecstasy.

Her body jerked in the berth until she sat up straight. Her eyes immediately connected with his. Shanti brushed the wayward hairs from her face, chest still heaving. “What are you doing in here?” she demanded, her voice husky.

“I have time now.”

The silence stretched between them as she searched for his meaning. Hsing saw the moment it dawned on her. Her eyes widened. Her pupils dilated. Her nostrils flared. 

“Get out,” she said, her breath quickening.

Hsing rose from the chair. He took a step towards her.

She clutched the sheet to her ample chest. “Did you hear what I just said?”

“Your words are meaningless to me, little one.” Hsing arrived at the edge of the bed. 

Shanti had to tilt her head back to look up at him. She licked her lips as she did. 

“Your words belie your thoughts,” Hsing continued. “Your body’s language is clear.”