Hazel Green

C1: Shakespeare’s Three Hours

Hey. If you’re reading this then… then I…I feel a lot better knowing you’ve at least opened one of the packages I’ve been sending to you. The guards ‘whisper’ pretty loud round here so I kinda heard what you’ve been doing to— to all of the letters I send. Believe me, I completely understand. I’d do the same thing if I were you. But I feel like, and I hope I don’t sound all sulky and ‘acting innocent’ when I say this, but I feel like you don’t know the full story.

I mean you probably heard the cops’ take and rumors on it but, you… you weren’t there. I was. And I’m pretty sure if you heard what I heard, you’d do the same. Okay, maybe not the same, but I’m pretty sure you’d understand why I did what I did.

I had a whole two thousand plus explanation for the introduction you know? Like a whole, our existence is an actual anomaly, the world isn’t aware of the existence of us, of home, the tale of the three cities of the north, the entire Ninth Continent as a whole, all that stuff, but my cellmates kinda snoozed on the first few paragraphs so hopefully this particular letter will make up for everything.

You might not have even bothered to read this long but If you do, I’m gonna give this storytelling gig a try. Definitely won’t be some Shakespeare quality one, but might actually be worth the read. Hopefully, be worth the read.

Without further ado, let’s get straight to it, The legacy of Ninth

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Her petite feet gracefully smacked across the hard, wooden floors of the master bedroom. Although 7am was pretty late for her, especially considering her job as an officer of the law, she looked in no hurry whatsoever to get dressed as gracefully as she possibly could. Her blonde hair with carefully arranged shades of black to it, was still ruffled. Probably scattered from the previous night’s sleep, that is, if she even bothered to sleep. After all, today was a really big day for her. Still in her red, floral patterned undies, she carefully made her way to the bathroom, trying her best not the wake up the man fast asleep on the bed.

She ran her soft, tender hands through her hair trying to loosen some knots that had come from a probably uneasy night, though her glowing face never ever really exposed that truth. After combing her hair and admiring herself in the mirror for what was definitely a couple minutes but seemed like eternity, almost playing with herself in the process, she gradually made her way back to the bedroom, her feet gently smacking against the cool wooden floor.

Sitting down at the foot of the bed, she almost on cue looked back at her lover still fast asleep, cuddling the pillow to his left. Taking note of his every feature, from his slick dark hair to his veiny hands, whatever the duvet allowed her to see, she carefully made her way up to him, cuddling him from her side, her gentle breath, nipping on the nape of his neck.

"Morning Babe", she said, suffocating his with neck kisses.

The cloak of semi consciousness gradually lifted itself off the dark haired, waking man. He Successfully hid the occasional morning breath fiesta, and yawned into the open space beside him. Carefully lifting his eyelids and exposing a set of hazel green eyes, "Sup", he smiled, using his hands to gently caress hers which were wrapped around his chest.

"It's my big day", she whispered. "I thought I'd wake you up without a fuss this time, and I think that went pretty well", she said, etching another premium kiss on his lipstick infested neck.

"That's true", he replied with a smile, gently grabbing her leg behind him and placing it over his. "It is your big day, and I'm so pr…", in the middle of caressing her thighs, he felt the floral patterns on her undies and for a while, decided to leave his lingering hands right where they were. "Are you still in your underwear Shell", he said with a smile.

"Maybe", she whispered into his ear, her tender lips, brushing lightly on it.

He turned to his side, and in effect was now looking at her face to face, eyeball to eyeball. "Are you?"

"Yes. Yes, I am", she interrupted, knowing exactly what he was asking. She gently locked her right hand with her left, and starting from her under her knee, slowly began to trace the details of her body with his hands. His finger nails gradually began to do the work of marking out every single territory it could possibly find on her soft and fragile body, and from the shivers and shakes from time to time, she seemed happy to get lost in the moment of things.

She slowly used his hands to trace up her knee, to her soft, tender thighs, and then backed up a little to her cute little ass, literally. His fingers gently traced up her floral-patterned underpants and up her back, her quiet moans audibly becoming louder with every additional touch. Finally, she stopped his hands at the back of her head, looking at him with her undaunted but submissive brown eyes. Even with the little space between the two, she managed to etch even closer to him, feeling his heartbeat gradually increase with her right hand on his chest, and then she smiled.

His inhales and exhales gently began to become more audible. And staring deep into her eyes, and her into his, he succumbed to the whiff of the moment, but now, on his own terms. He turned the tables, and led her hand down her body as carefully and consciously as he possibly could. Tracing every inch of her lips, he gently made it down her jaw, then off her neck and took a slight pause at the latch between her breasts. Using his hand, he gently rubbed under the bottom of her brazier, cautiously nipping away at her boobs but at the same time, not really touching them. Holding that position for as long as he heard her moan as quietly as she could, he gradually made his way down her stomach, over her navel, and then back at her red underpants. Now, he decided, he would take every second as if it was his very last with the love of his life.

He carefully, still using her hands, ran through every nook and cranny, every opening he could possibly use to access what laid underneath her covering. And then, for a slight moment, he found one. He gently picked out her index and middle finger, and slipped them under her underwear, and she succumbed with a sharp but eerily quiet groan. Now the look in her eyes was more of submission than undaunted. Tracing her with every inch she possibly offered, he rubbed his hands over her whimpering secret, and slowly worked his magic.

Looking at her facial expression gradually change with every touch, he leaned in closer, almost unexpectedly, and wrapped his soft lips round her fragile ones. But as he leaned in, unintentionally, his body weight pressed against his hands and in effect, against the right hand of his lover, sinking her middle and index finger deep into her. She closed her eyes then let out an audibly louder groan, then a terrific sigh almost immediately. Slowly opening her eyes, she locked them with the piercing gaze of her lover, both of them unendingly locked in the thrill of things, and then she whispered, "it's still seven, we've got three hours".

Replying her quiet boldness with a light smirk, he gently took his hands out, and gradually made his way to her lips, the ones on her mouth. His moist finger, revving across them and said…