[Classical Wuxia] Springtime in the Boudoir

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

She gently drew back the curtains and slowly walked to the dressing mirror. In the gleaming bronze mirror, a stunningly beautiful face appeared, yet it was etched with weariness. Even without makeup, she was confident in her beauty. Her hand slowly caressed her cheek, moving towards her full breasts, lingering there passionately until she couldn't help but let out a soft, alluring moan. Her ten slender, jade-like fingers seemed to possess a life of their own, exploring and slipping deep into the soft fabric of her skirt. The secluded valley left her hands damp and slippery.
A thousand kinds of loneliness, to whom could she speak… She gazed at her husband's portrait, tidied her slightly disheveled hair, and withdrew her hand, blushing. Her husband, who had died on the battlefield, had created his own world, leaving her alone with loneliness. Looking at the respectful eyes of the elders of Jiangdong, she could only bury all her sorrows deep within her heart. Her hands unconsciously caressed her long, straight legs, the echo of her husband's boisterous laughter from their wedding night seemingly replaying in
her ears. That night, her husband was intoxicated by her beauty, and she by his prowess. When his imposing body pressed against her delicate, spring-like form, she felt only satisfaction and joy amidst the pain. A radiant smile appeared on her face, a smile born of memories, and her fingers finally and resolutely slipped into the tight crevice of her flesh, carefully probing the entrance. She curled up her beautiful body on the large stool, pleasing herself.
As her juices flowed, her emptiness was temporarily filled. But with them came a deeper loneliness.

Her sister… she suddenly thought of her sister, waiting in the bedroom for her world-renowned husband.
It was hard to say which sister was happier. One had died on the battlefield, the other was busy all day. Her sister, living a life of widowhood, had little hope of survival; how much better off could she be than her? The two sisters, both renowned for their beauty, their unparalleled charm couldn't earn them a sweet whisper in each other
's ear. These past few days had been a time of celebration for their great victory over the enemy, yet these inexplicable thoughts of desolation arose, highlighting the loneliness in her surroundings. She smiled bitterly, pondering tonight's private banquet. Would he come? If he did, it would be just the two of them, brother and sister-in-law, drinking together. Even if all others were dismissed, she wouldn't be able to maintain her reputation as a virtuous woman. If he didn't come, the intense longing in her heart remained unexpressed. A contradiction? She mocked herself. "Adulterous woman," a cold voice in her heart condemned her. She smiled faintly, shedding her elegant white attire. For that inner voice, she had kept herself dormant for too long. This time, she only wanted to indulge. She didn't care about betraying her sister.
Her eyebrows were lightly drawn, her lips subtly touched with rouge. Her skin was like solidified cream, smooth as a mirror; her lips like newly ripened cherry blossoms; her eyebrows like distant mountains. Her eyes, brimming with light, seemed like two deep pools, drawing one in with unfathomable tenderness. A lightly tied gauze skirt, its sash slightly parted, revealed glimpses of her jade-like legs beneath the pale pink fabric, a touch of bright red on her toenails. The fragrance of balsam syrup alone was enough to captivate all.
She glanced at her attire, smiled, and shook her head. If he had seen her upon entering, knowing his nature, he would surely have turned away. She sighed, half-reproachfully, half-resentfully, and added a white robe over herself, concealing her beautiful figure and hiding the glimpses of spring in the room.
Entering the outer hall, she found everything prepared by the servants. The aroma of wine rose from the bronze goblets, stirring her heart. She must
have rested for a long time; the sky was already dark. She sat at the table, waiting quietly, just as she had waited for her husband on the battlefield on their wedding night.
He arrived, weary from his journey, his armor still bearing the marks of battle, but his eyes gleamed with joy. She smiled; with his early success and now a victory that would ensure his lasting fame, his handsome face was radiant with pride. How could such a man not stir one's heart? She blushed slightly, shyly realizing that his dashing figure had already stirred a surge of heat within her.
"Uncle, please," she said, suppressing her inner turmoil and forcing a composed greeting.
He took his seat as a guest, a hint of confusion on his face. "Where are Zijing and Xingba? Didn't they come?"
Of course, she wouldn't tell him that he was her only guest tonight—her uncle, her brother-in-law. "Zhongmou and his wife have some family matters to discuss with them; they'll be here shortly." She raised a glass of wine, offered a toast, and took a small sip from her sleeve. The blush on her cheeks added to her beauty, almost mesmerizing him. Her sister's beauty was no less than his own, but it was a man's nature to always find something he hadn't yet possessed more appealing.
"If that's the case, then there's no need to wait. It'll be easier to talk when it's just the two of us, sister-in-law." He picked up his wine cup, feigning indifference, and deliberately downplayed the matter of their time alone, before drinking it all in one gulp.

"Congratulations, Uncle, on such a victory! This feast is a celebration of your triumph." With delicate hands, she picked out a few fish bones with chopsticks and placed a piece of fresh fish into his bowl. Intentionally or unintentionally, her wrist trembled, and the fish fell into the soup, splashing a few drops of oil onto her fair wrist. She exclaimed softly, glancing at him sideways, "Clumsy one, Uncle, please forgive my rudeness."
He involuntarily grasped her hand, rubbing the sore spot, then immediately released it, somewhat embarrassed, and laughed, "Sister-in-law, please forgive my abruptness."
She picked up another piece of fish and placed it in his bowl, saying timidly, "It's alright. Please stay a moment longer, let me apply some ointment. Uncle, please enjoy it. Such fine wine, for a woman like me, keeping it would be a waste."
She made a move to stand up, but suddenly her legs gave way, and she swayed to the side. He quickly stepped forward and caught her slender waist. He blushed and helped her up, sitting back down. "Sister-in-law, be careful not to fall and hurt yourself."
She nodded slightly, then turned and gracefully walked into the back hall. He picked up his wine cup, his hand trembling slightly. He was only slightly intoxicated, yet his eyes were already bloodshot. His handsome face was filled with conflicting emotions.
Did he have no improper thoughts? He was only deceiving himself. After his elder brother's death, who didn't look at his sister-in-law with a hint of longing? Could he truly give in to his desires towards this woman who was both his sister-in-law and his wife's elder sister? He pondered, then downed his wine in one gulp.
With light, graceful steps, her jade pendants jingling, she emerged from the inner hall, having removed her outer robe, reapplied her makeup, and restyled her hair, instantly capturing his attention. His wife was beautiful too, but she lacked this captivating charm. A fire instantly burned in his lower abdomen; the erection pressing against his hardened armor caused him a sharp pain.

“Uncle, please don’t wear your armor during the meal.” Like a virtuous wife, she walked behind him, untied his armor, and gently removed it for him, as if she understood his discomfort. Beneath the open collar of his robe, his fine, muscular body glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, making her heart pound like a deer's. She couldn’t help but imagine the immense pleasure such a powerful physique would bring her.
“Uncle, let me offer you another drink.” She sat down beside him, her breath sweet as orchids, whispering in his ear, trying to inhale his strong masculine scent.
He was somewhat unable to resist, especially after seeing her charmingly tipsy state. Her pure yet alluring, hazy yet beautiful appearance, like water, gently engulfed him. Even he, skilled in naval combat, ultimately succumbed to this water-like woman. He grasped her soft hand, feeling its boneless suppleness.
"Uncle, you're hurting me." Her lowered eyes and shy demeanor were enough to drive even a saint mad.
"Don't call me uncle." He scooped her up and carried her straight to the inner chamber.
"Then, brother-in-law, could you put me down?" she asked, her eyes alluring and slightly intoxicated.
"You woman." He smiled helplessly, placing her on the soft couch inside the boudoir. He removed his robes and undergarments, standing naked before her like a god. "Tell me, who am I?"
Her eyes were filled with adoration and tenderness. Her sash loosened slightly, and beneath her open robe, her moon-like breasts were faintly visible. She lifted her upper body, hooking her arms around his neck, completely unconcerned that her slipping skirt betrayed her full breasts. She said, word by word, "Tonight, you are my god, my everything..." Then she uttered his name, the name that had captivated the young girl of Jiangdong, the name that had haunted the dreams of both her and her sister.
He cupped her face with satisfaction, his lips burning with the savagery of wine, and kissed her wildly, utterly destroying the distance that should have been maintained between them. Her hand caressed his bare chest, captivated by the medal-like scars. If it weren't for the domineering aura of this man, perhaps she would be his wife.
She thought with a touch of regret, her hand slowly, inch by inch, sliding towards his lower body, gently touching his enormous member twice, as if afraid to touch it.
He pinned her down, grasping her hand and holding it to his aching erection, guiding her to recall the forgotten pleasures of their intimate moments. She felt the familiar pulse in her palm, and half-instinctively, her delicate fingers encircled his magnificent member, letting the heat in her hand burn away all her reason.
He wasn't satisfied with just a simple grasp; he grabbed her wrist, forcing her to move up and down, releasing his almost uncontrollable desire. To please this woman he had always only looked up to, he condescended to lift her soft, pink buttocks, playing with her lips and tongue in her wet, warm valley as he would with his wife when in a good mood. This was
something her husband had never done before, bringing her immense surprise, but she didn't want to only indulge herself. She gently pushed him away, removing her headdress, her cloud-like hair cascading down the bed like her long-suppressed passion. Her delicate fingers moved lightly, and the last vestiges of her clothing slid inch by inch down her smooth shoulders.
His mouth was dry as he stared at this scene that had only ever appeared in his dreams. If it weren't for the brother who had fought alongside him on the battlefield, she would be his wife. He thought with a touch of regret, and another similar face inadvertently flashed through his mind, causing a slight hesitation to cross his face.
He knew he was thinking of his wife, her sister, a pitiful woman waiting for her husband to return home in an empty house. But tonight, she only wanted to live for herself. She leaned against his chest, her hand tracing his strong lines. "Don't think about anything else, please, tonight, just me..."
He was shocked by her almost pleading words. He lowered his head, his pitiful face filled with the bitterness of widowhood, and his heart was now free of any other thoughts.
Her husband was unrestrained and naturally lacked romantic flair, so when his gentle hand caressed her sensitive garden, waves of happiness almost overwhelmed her. With a mixture of firmness and tenderness, he pressed his body against hers. His fiery tip forced open her tightly closed jade gate, and his massive member, like a fiery dragon, pierced deep into her soul, making her almost float into ecstasy in that instant. A long-lost feeling of fullness filled her lower body, and the warmth made her suddenly want to cry. Crystalline tears slid down her peach-blossom cheeks and onto the pillow.
"What's wrong?" he asked anxiously, not understanding why she was suddenly crying.
"I... I don't know why. But it's not because of you." She gently wiped away the fine beads of sweat that had formed on his skin from trying to remain still. "It's alright."
He no longer cared about anything. A woman's heart was more unpredictable than a rushing river; wasting time on this would only waste the night. In that reluctant embrace, he slowly withdrew. With the friction between their hymens, a heavenly moan escaped her lips, as if the withdrawal had taken away all her troubles. Just as she was about to slip out, he swiftly thrust inside. The winding, flower-like path was instantly cleared.

Compared to her deceased husband, the man before her clearly knew far more about matters of the heart. With just a few simple strokes, her long-dormant passion and untapped desires surfaced. He moved gently, hoisting her delicate feet onto his shoulders, his lips lightly kissing the insteps, lingering on those perfectly proportioned feet.
She knew her feet were beautiful, capable of igniting any man's desire. But she hadn't expected the light kisses on her insteps and the gentle caresses below her ankles, combined with the continuous pleasure from their intimate connection, to pierce her already chaotic mind like a sharp sword.
Unconsciously, she curled her small feet, the soles rippling with beautiful waves. He smiled and gently swept his foot across her sole, the tingling sensation mixed with the pleasurable impact overcoming the last vestiges of her reserve. A series of ethereal moans echoed loudly in the room. Having cast aside her last shred of restraint, the pleasure she experienced surged once more, sending her into a blissful state of mind. Her
smooth, tight flower-like opening clung to him, her writhing, beautiful white body firmly holding his gaze. The suppressed moans, brimming with the joy of a young woman, assaulted his ears. Under this triple temptation, controlling his desire became incredibly difficult. Her opening contracted repeatedly, allowing her to clearly feel him swell to his limit within her.
With the last vestige of reason, he withdrew from her body. In her surprised yet understanding gaze, a splash of fluid stained her beautiful face. Somewhat bewildered, she scraped the sticky fluid from her face with her index finger. Moonlight filled the room, and under its bright glow, her long hair flowing freely, her moon-like, beautiful body completely naked, as if to soothe the dryness between her lips and teeth, extended her pink tongue and gently licked the sticky fluid from her finger.
This alluring scene caused his lower body to suddenly swell, and he felt an urge to swell again. She was still savoring the afterglow of their encounter, curled up in his arms like a lazy cat. He reached his hand back between her thighs, and before the passion subsided, he skillfully teased her again. The sensitive clitoris on her vulva, before it could even hide its delicate body, was caught by his fingers, gently teasing and caressing it.
She trembled, the lingering torrent of pleasure engulfing her once more. He held her tightly, as if trying to embed her into his body. She sat in his lap, in a position she had never imagined before, and he easily penetrated her. The deep penetration even caused her a slight pain amidst the pleasure, but that pain gave her an unprecedented sense of satisfaction. She twisted her slender waist, letting his hardness, deeply buried inside her, gently rub against her with his movements. There was no
fierce storm, only the gentle warmth of a spring breeze. Even this slight movement sent her into another wave of passion. Her whole body finally went limp, utterly powerless, and a faint sheen of moisture could be seen trickling from where they were joined.
"A woman made of water..." he chuckled, leading her to lie face down on the bed. She pressed her upper body softly against the bed, her breasts pressed into two deformed orbs, her knees weakly parted, her full buttocks raised in a shy pose. Never having used this position before, she felt no shame, but rather a curiosity about this union.

He lay behind her, his hands rubbing the edges of her breasts, his penis, aided by the pleasure filling her lower body, smoothly plunging in to its hilt. Such deep penetration was a first for her; the hidden, tender flesh deep within her was almost indented. She buried her face deeply in the soft pillow, knowing that no matter how she usually acted, her face was now radiating desire.
Her waist ache, and her body gradually collapsed. He followed suit, his weapon beginning to lightly attack the now-open palace gates. The two of them clung together like cicadas in late summer, passionately creating a world just for the two of them.
The slapping of her buttocks against his lower abdomen created a harmonious rhythm, her moans on the pillow becoming the most beautiful chord. In this symphony of flesh and spirit, he withdrew his desire, scattering the seeds of lust upon her supple back. She, already lost in the countless waves of pleasure that had tossed her to the heavens, was too exhausted to care about anything else. Thus, covered in her disheveled state, she drifted into a blissful dream.
She awoke suddenly to morning's light; the bed was neat and clean, as if it had all been nothing but a dream.
She touched the strawberry-like bruises on her chest, the only traces proving the reality of the previous night. She sighed softly, without makeup or clothing, and like a newborn infant, walked to the portrait behind the altar, pressing her face against it, her eyes gradually welling with tears.
"Bo Fu..." A tear fell, shattering on the ground... The vast, misty landscape was captured by the handsome man at the window. A stunningly beautiful young woman, a hint of melancholy in her eyes, helped her husband don his armor.

With the war underway, there was no time for anything else… He said to himself, seemingly casually reminding his wife, “Visit your sister more often. You two sisters should get together frequently. I’m away from home so often; you’ve suffered.”
“I will. Go in peace; I’ll be fine here.” The young woman leaned against her husband’s breastplate, hiding her tears from him. “I’ll wait for you at home, Gongjin.”
The water rippled, the wind passed without a trace… Even if the east wind favored Zhou Yu, the two Qiao beauties would remain locked away in their secluded chambers in the depths of spring.

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