The Prince

By Lisabet Serai
from her novel Raw Silk

Driven by a vague craving for something outside her well-ordered life, software engineer Kate O'Neil leaves her lover David and her home in Boston to take a job in Bangkok, Thailand. In the course of her work, she becomes sexually involved with two very different men: handsome, imaginative, sensual Somtow Rajchitraprasong, a member of the Thai aristocracy and a partner in her new company, and Gregory Marshall, the dominant, charismatic proprietor of a sex bar.

Somtow wants to explore with her the infinite varieties of sexual pleasure; Marshall wants her to submit herself to his will. Kate finds herself on an emotional and sexual rollercoaster, strongly drawn to both of her lovers, who satisfy her needs in such divergent ways. In an atmosphere of oriental opulence and industrial espionage, Kate realizes that she must choose among the three men who lay claim to her heart: she invites all three to join her in a sexual adventure that makes clear to her what she really wants and needs.

The Prince
‘Come, have something to eat. I hope that you enjoy spicy food.’

‘Definitely,’ Katherine replied with a smile. ‘At home they say that it is because of my red hair.’

Somtow ran his fingers affectionately through her curls. ‘I see. So perhaps red hair is associated also with hot blood?’

‘Try this, then.’ He offered her a plate of raw papaya salad. She recognised this as one of the spiciest dishes available from Thai restaurants at home, but was not prepared for the stunning effects this version had on her tongue.

‘Goodness!’ she said, taking a spoonful of the coconut rice that normally accompanied this dish, to dampen the fires in her mouth. ‘I thought that I could handle hot food!’ They both laughed.

Somtow opened another bottle of wine and refilled their glasses. They continued to nibble on the exotic delicacies he had provided, sitting half-naked on the cushions in the balmy night.

Katherine found her gaze drawn again and again to his smooth, muscular chest. The folds of the sarong around his waist hid his penis from her eyes. She wondered what he would do if she reached down to touch him, as she longed to do.

Somtow was talking about Thai cuisine, the two thousand royal dishes and the hundreds of other, ‘country-style’ recipes. Suddenly, it seemed, he noticed her looking at his body. She blushed a little. He said nothing, but reached across the table to pick up a bowl of raw chilis.

‘Did you know, Katherine, that Thai chilis are considered to be among the hottest in the world?’ He picked up a bright green pod between his thumb and forefinger, and raised it to his mouth. Instead of eating it, however, he ran the pepper across his lips, almost as if applying lipstick. Then he leaned forward, and kissed Katherine lightly.

The chili oil made her own lips tingle and burn. ‘Mmm,’ she murmured, as she returned the kiss with enthusiasm. She felt him untying her sarong, and then, his lips were on her nipples again, first the left, then the right.

She was not prepared for the sensations that assaulted her as the pungent oil touched her skin. Her nipples were still hard, sensitised from her recent arousal. They burned and throbbed, almost painful, as Somtow deliberately anointed them with the remnants of the pepper. The near-pain was overwhelmed by the pleasure, though, as a delicious warmth radiated out across her breasts.

‘Oh...’, she sighed, closing her eyes and savoring the heat. ‘That is incredible.’

A light touch between her legs caused her to open her eyes. Somtow had another chili in his fingers, brilliant red this time. With one hand, he parted her lower lips gently. Then, holding her open, he began to stroke the rigid little pepper against her equally rigid clitoris.

The effects were explosive. Sensitive though her nipples might be, the delicate tissues of her sex were much more so. Her labia swelled and ached; she rubbed herself against the fingers that held her open. The little knob of flesh directly in contact with the pepper pulsed and flamed. Part of her thought she could not bear it (and she knew he would stop immediately if she asked). Still, another part of her craved even more of this pleasure/pain, hotter, fiercer, consuming her flesh. She groaned.

Somtow made some soft sound in answer. Looking at him, she saw that he had crushed the pepper between his fingertips. Now he was rubbing the red pulp over his penis, up and down its stiff length, over the bulbous top. Katherine understood, suddenly, that his cock must be burning with the same, almost unbearable, intensity as her labia and clit. He looked into her eyes, without a word, and she knew he understood her wordless consent, as he plunged his fire-laden member into her vagina.

Katherine gasped and dug her nails into his shoulders. Intense sensation nearly overwhelmed her. She was still wet from their previous coupling. He moved easily within her secret cavities, spreading the incendiary chili oil inside and out.

Her labia, clitoris, and vagina all blazed with the odd, delicious pain. His cock was a flaming candle, searing her flesh. She felt raw, saw crimson, spread her legs wider so that he could ignite her deeper still.

Then, she felt him withdraw, momentarily. Deliberately, he touched the head of his penis to the tight knot of her anus. He did not push or try to enter, merely let the fiery unguent work upon delicate flesh around that most private of places.

This, finally, loosed the conflagration within her. Katherine cried aloud, writhed and moaned. Then, in the midst of her climax, she felt cooling liquid filling her, streaming down her thighs. She opened her eyes. Somtow held the wine bottle and was deliberately pouring the remaining contents into her vagina, an almost childish delight on his face.

‘Ah, my Katherine!’ He leaned over and began to drink the wine from her flesh, lapping the ruby drops from her thighs. ‘Excellent wine, but the taste can only be improved by mixing in your delicious liqueur.’

Katherine lay back and allowed him to clean her with his eager tongue. She marveled at his sensitivity, his inventiveness, and his generosity. She noted that his cock was still fiercely erect, though she felt wonderfully satisfied.

‘Somtow,’ she said. ‘You are so considerate, you forget your own pleasure.’

‘Oh, no,’ he said, ‘I cannot imagine any greater delight than pleasing you.’

‘Nevertheless,’ she said, ‘if you will allow me...’ She raised herself up on her hands and knees in front of him. A little hesitant, she touched her tongue to the tip of his penis. Most of the chili oil had rubbed off; there was only a mild tingling. But now she tasted the salty, slightly bitter flavor of her own sex, new and exciting.

She wrapped her lips around his swollen member. He moaned softly as she took him deep into her mouth, then little by little released him. Then he relaxed back into the pile of cushions and closed his eyes. She bent lower, raising her hips, spiraling her tongue down his silky rod of flesh.

Unlike many men, he allowed her to set the pace. She started slowly, teasing him, sucking hard, then withdrawing so that her lips just grazed the glans. Gradually, she picked up the rhythm. With each stroke she felt him swell larger in her mouth. Now he was breathing heavily, in time with her as she slithered her mouth up and down his penis. At the base she sometimes paused to give a quick lick to his balls. This made him groan and writhe beneath her.

He was getting close to orgasm. Katherine could feel it. All at once, she was very aware of her own body, her naked buttocks elevated and exposed, her breasts swinging with the exertion of her strokes. Her mind presented her with a vivid, intensely arousing image of how she must look, lavishing such indecent attention on his engorged member.

She felt a warm breeze stir against the skin on her inner thighs, as though someone moved nearby. Her face buried in Somtow’s crotch, she had the sudden conviction that they were being watched. The thought was disturbing, and thrilling. With one hand she grasped the base of her princely lover’s cock, squeezing hard. She thrust the other between her legs, pinching her clit between thumb and forefinger.

The rod of flesh in her mouth contracted, then swelled and overflowed. Somtow cried out in Thai. She tasted his warm, acrid fluid on her tongue, spilling out of her half-open lips. As she swallowed, she sank her fingers deep down between her lower lips, forgetting everything but the pleasure unfolding there.

It seemed that she lost consciousness for a moment, drifted off into some separate realm of sensation. The next thing she was aware of was the tip of Somtow’s tongue. He was running it delicately around her mouth, lapping up the drops of semen that lingered there.

Reprinted with permission from Raw Silk by Lisbet Sarai (Blue Moon, 2002. ISBN: 1-56201-276-2. 248 pages, paperback. $7.95)