This is a quickie, a very short story intentionally kept under two thousand words to make it a quick read. As such, it can't possibly be arousing. There is sex in the story, and the sex is somehow integral in how events play out, but it's not arousing. That's not the goal. It is a story, first and foremost. Measure it's value on the punch the story packs, and the entertainment it provides, not on how much it excites you, because it probably won't.
— The Author
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Ahktonneh looked at his lover, his new bride, with admiration, and pride, and more than a little longing. She was certainly surpassingly fair, her nose long and straight, her skin imbued with a smooth, dark copper tone from the ceaseless rays of the desert sun. She had straight, long black hair, with long, even bangs that hung like a curtain above wide, deep, dark almond shaped eyes. Her lips were colored ruby red, inviting a flurry of kisses, or one long, deep one.
She was, too, surprisingly adept at making love. He was sure the women of the family must have schooled her in how to please a man, because he also knew he must be her first, and only. She’d learned her lessons very well.
He was more than a little shocked at how pleasurable it was to lie with her. He felt his loins stirring at the memory of their most recent encounter, thinking to himself that he had it in him to try one more time this evening, before sleep took him, to better even that performance.
“Are you thinking of Amunet?” she asked. Her voice was a sigh on his chest as it rose and fell with his breathing.
He was not, but it wasn’t unfair for her to have that worry. He felt sorry for her, in her moment of jealousy.
Amunet was his true love, the woman he wanted to spend this wonderful evening with. She knew it. He’d never hidden it from her. He’d even discussed with her, however foolish the thought was, the idea of running away with Amunet. Of course, it could never be. It was just a silly boy’s fantasy.
He’d been betrothed to Nephthys the day she was born, and that it would be done had been decided before either of them had been born. As the next Pharaoh, his life was set unchangeably before him like the pictorial script engraved on the walls of his grandfather’s tomb. The most powerful young man in the world’s most powerful and civilized kingdom had little freedom.
Ahktonneh drew Nephthys up to him, pulling her passive face toward his lips. He kissed her softly, tasting the scented berry wine that lingered on her breath. She was pliant in his grip, a good woman, living now only to serve and please the next Pharaoh.