The explorer of love and lust

 

The name of that YouTube channel was Magic Stories, a channel of audio erotic stories.

Roshan was a subscriber to that channel.

He played a video of a new story on it and sat down to listen to it.

A pleasant feminine voice began the story.

'On that night showered with chilled drops of sensation, he came with the fragrant linden flowers. The wind sang beautifully to the rhythm of the rain. He hugged me in that love song composed by the wind and rain in the mysteriousness of the night. His lips and fingers spread the pleasure and pain of lust in my body. He wrote the love words of the Psalms on my large breasts with a bird's feather dipped in honey, reddened my lips with strawberries, and I lay with my eyes closed. As the night embraces the earth with a mysterious silence, as the frenzied waves gently caress the shore, as the gentle breeze kisses the flowers and sings, he embraced me to be the energy of love. That energy awakened my senses as the gospel of revelation. I learned that love is an energy, a mind-awakening energy. Then she asked happily. "Who are you?"

"A cupid who gives salvation to the lovers who seek the sensations of love." He smiled and said. “In your enchanted eyes of love, in your cheeks reddened by passion, in your lips softened by lust, in your beautiful pomegranates like a wine glass, all I have filled with those indescribable feelings of salvation. Didn't you know that?”

"Knowing, I lie absorbed in its ecstasy." She whispered. “Darling, hug me tightly and then pour those love gospels on me like a singing downpour. Let me flow in it like a great stream of love. I have been waiting for this lovely night for years.”

After hearing that audio story, Roshan picked up the phone and dialed a number.

A woman's voice was heard on the other end. "Hello."

"How are you, the rose of Sharon?"

"Oh, Roshan."

"Do you recognize my voice?"

"No one has ever called me Rose of Sharon, though we have only met once."

"Shall we meet tonight?" He asked in a sweet tone. "I want to come to that valley of lily one more time.”

“Why?”

 “To plow that swamp." He laughed

 "You are naughty fox. But you forget what I told you then? Did you?"

“No.”

"If so, tell me, what was that thing?"

"You said, you will not do it with anyone more than once."

"Yes, you remember it. I'm not a nymphomaniac. It seems like a new world when I see some special qualities in some people. Then I wish to explore that world. That's how I called you to my bedroom. I have found the world that you are. There is nothing new to be found in it. So we will no longer meet in bed.”

"But my dear, the story you wrote about finding that new world in me is awesome," Roshan said with a laugh.

“What do you mean?”

“I am talking about your new story that you have published on your channel ‘The magic stories’. I am a subscriber to your channel. I have just heard your new story ‘The rain song’, which is a poetic narration of love, marvelous..! Congratulation and I am happy to know that you are the creator of these magic stories. Great work..!”

She didn’t say anything, Roshan continued with a laugh.

“Darling, you turned our first meeting into a lovely story. I am happy to be the hero of your story. So, why don't you write another story like this? Shall I come tonight for another thrilling story?”

He heard a sigh from her in response.

She said nothing for a few moments. Then she said in a low, unpleasant voice. "Okay, you come tonight."

“Yes, this will be an opportunity for you to create another thrilling story. Let us call it ‘The Song of black night.” He laughed, she too.

“Yes, let’s call the story so.”

Roshan came to the storyteller's house.

"Darling, my bouquet of congratulations to you the great storyteller who creates the stories of love poetically." He presents her with flowers.

She invited him to her bedroom and gave him a welcome drink.

After the drink, Roshan got up to hug her. “My love, the moon in the spring, let me nibble this honey in this horrible night of Satan.”

She moved backward with a funny gesture and called him, “Come on cupid, come up and taste this sweet chilly, the chilly of hell.”

Roshan made a few steps of dance and ran towards her. But, he couldn’t touch her. Before getting her, he fell.

He did not open his eyes anymore.

That night, a new story, the song of black night, came on her channel.

At the end of the story, the heroine told the hero who was lying dead in her bedroom.

“Darling, I am sorry, I have no other way. Now, you know who I am. I don't want to be known as a writer of erotic stories. You recognized me who sat inside a veil and wrote stories to entertain people. All my stories are my exploration seeking the true nature of love and lust. I experienced it well and wrote those wonderful feelings of love and lust as stories of revelations for others without any colors of imagination or speculation. That is why the stories were beautiful. But I have to say that no one had recognized me except you. So I am compelled to say goodbye. Goodbye darling, peace in rest.”

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