*Alternate version of Let’s Make Love

Stand By Me

When the night has come
And the land is dark
And the moon is the only light we'll see
No I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid
Just as long as you stand, stand by me...

Chronology: Tristan is 26. Raja is 16.

Despite the coolness of the day, Raja’s body was heated, her mind dizzy. Tristan was atop her, kissing her passionately, hand placed lightly on her breast, his very touch burning holes through the fabric. All these new feelings, bodily and emotionally were so foreign to her, and surprising. The fabric of her dress rubbed uncomfortably against her taut nipples, the area between her legs constantly ached, but not painfully so. And the moisture that seeped every time she thought of Tristan, touched Tristan, the tip of his tongue against hers, exploring her mouth caused her womb to clench. It had been so for the past two months since she'd returned to Britain.

There was an uncomfortable pressure against her hip as Tristan pressed closer to her. She took a breath, opening her mouth to speak. “Tristan, your belt is digging into my hip.”

“Hmm?” he mumbled, still caught in the daze of her kisses. He shook his head to clear it, her words sinking in, and a smile played on his lips. “That’s not my belt.”

Her brow narrowed in consternation, and her already flushed face turned a deeper crimson at her blatant stupidity. She should have known. Already she was discovering that she knew so little about sex than she had thought. Tristan moved off to the side, and Raja, hesitantly looked at the bulge in his pants. Until then, she had avoided turning her curious eyes to his privates, intimidated by what she might see. And now...her eyes widened at the protrusion. She hastily looked away.

Tristan was being patient with her, reveling in teaching her about both her body and his. He knew the things she had to be feeling were completely, and utterly different to her, and also a little scary. Being friends for so long, and finally delving into the depths of their love, crossing that line from which it would be impossible to ever turn back. “It’s all right to look Raja,” he said gently.

Raja stumbled for words, her lips swollen from Tristan’s kisses, as they had been for the past few weeks since they had declared their love for one another. It was almost impossible to not want to kiss him, and not kiss him whenever they were alone together. Stolen kisses in the hallways, the stables and hours and hours of blissful connection when they ventured to their place in the woods, uninterrupted. Oh, that first time, under the bright sunlight. It had not been the first time she had kissed him, but it had been the most exquisite, longest exploration of each other’s mouths to date.

Tristan chuckled lightly and stroked her cheek, placing a soft kiss on the nape of her neck. She flicked her eyes at him, unconsciously placing a hand over her fast beating heart as she stared again. How could it possible be so hard? “It’s...like a rock.” Slowly, she reached back, then snatched her hand away.

He took her hand back, caressing the back with his thumb. Bit by bit he guided her to his erection until the tips of her fingers pressed against his pants. He stifled his groan, his groin sensitive to the lightest touch.

Raja exhaled, a quivering release of breath at such intimacy. She pressed a little harder. “How...it’s so hard!” she said again. “I mean...does that mean you want to do it...now?” Could she blush any more? “What do you call it Tristan? Fucking?”

His eyes opened a fraction. “I wouldn’t call it that. Not with you.” He took note of her shaking. “And no... not right now. When I make love to you I want it to be in a warm, comfortable bed.”

She hoped her relief did not show too much. The idea of him seeing her without any of her clothes...what if he thought her hideous? She bit her lip and looked down, shifting uncomfortably. She hugged her knees to her chest.

“Are you all right?” He looked at her, concerned at her retreat.

Raja nodded her head and rubbed her chin against her knees.

“You know you can ask me anything, Raja. If you’re confused about something.”

She contemplated confessing all the odd things her body was feeling. “I...have this ache...between my legs...”

Tristan leaned in. “That means you’re aroused.”

“I thought so.”

“Have you ever touched yourself Raja?” He asked the question slowly, the idea that he was asking her such a personal question, something he never could have imagined doing just a few months ago.

“No!” she exclaimed, shaking her head vehemently. “I...never. No. I looked once...but it’s ugly, Tristan. Really.”

Easily, Tristan lifted her onto his lap so she sat sideways between his legs, her head resting on his shoulder. “Nothing about you is ugly. Believe me.” The very notion that she hated her body killed him, and he knew it was because of what happened to her as a child.

Raja squeezed her eyes shut tight and huddled closer to him.

“Let me show you, Raja,” he said, his voice husky.

“That,” she said. “Why does your voice sound like that sometimes?”

“It means I want you.” Gently, he eased her down to her back so he lay on his side next to her. He traced her collar bone, leaning down to place a kiss at the dip below her neck. “I want to show you.” His golden eyes held hers with such intensity that it took her breath away. Her silent acquiescence had him pulling her skirt up to reveal her legs inch by inch. He never took her eyes off of her, watching for discomfort or fear. He heard her breath hitch when his hand touched her inner thigh and guided itself up further towards the junction of her legs. Her skin was so beautiful, soft, velvety, a light golden brown. Finally, he cupped her mound.

Raja gasped as heat flared up her body. He was touching her, gods he was touching her! She was splayed wide open to him, and he wasn’t recoiling in disgust. A gush of liquid poured from her.

“You’re wet, Raja,” he said, his eyes glazing over with want. He moved his hand, feeling the tight curls beaded with her arousal. He brushed her sensitive nub which caused her to whimper. “You feel good.”

“No, Tristan,” she denied.

“You do,” he insisted.

“Don’t look,” she pleaded. “Not yet.”

Tristan kissed her. “I won’t.” He felt her shudder at his strokes all the way through his spine. He tended to her nub delicately, her mounting pleasure making him hard all over again. For weeks he had the worst case of blue-balls from constantly being aroused with no release. He wished he could taste this creamy wetness that his fingers were becoming saturated with, but that would have to wait. He outlined the folds of her lips, then slipped the tip of his index finger inside of her, feeling the clench of her channel.

Raja moaned, trying her best to quiet the sounds of ecstasy that were building inside of her. She felt his finger enter further inside of her, her muscles clamping onto his finger. Then he slipped a second inside of her, stretching her slightly. Her hips arched slightly as he stroked her insides while his thumb still played with her nub. Sparks of lightning trailed up from her toes to her head. He buried his face in her neck, nibbling and nuzzling, and she felt his hardness against her side. He increased his speed, and in moments, she felt an explosion of energy so intense that it rocked her core. She caught the groan of release that tempted to break through her mouth. After she came, she still felt tiny aftershocks of her first orgasm.

Tristan smiled into her neck at her release, even though she had stifled her climax he heard the groan of absolute exhilaration. He let his fingers remain inside of her, reveling in the contractions that fused his two appendages together before extricating them from her warm channel. His fingers dripped with her wetness. He looked at her unrepentantly as he brought his fingers to his mouth, and sucked off every bit of her. Her eyes opened wide, and she wanted to snatch his hand away. How terrible she must taste!

“You taste so good, Raja,” he told her.

“I can’t possibly,” she said, sitting up and pulling her skirt back over her legs. “I cannot believe you did that.”

“I would do it again,” he said with conviction.

“But...how can you...” – a look of self-disgust masked her face – “after they...came inside of me?”

Tristan embraced her tightly, wanting to take all of her doubt away. “I can only taste you. You are not dirty, Raja.”

Raja let her head drop. “How can I even let you make love to me after what they did? It would sully you.”

“Listen to me,” he said sternly. “There is nothing wrong with you. I love you more than anything, and nothing could ever make me believe that you are tainted. In my eyes, you are a virgin and I will be the first and last man to ever make love to you.”

Raja stared at him, uncertainty still in her eyes.

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Tristan was to be gone for the next three days, so Raja spent more time with her uncle. Despite her and Tristan’s recent activities, she always ate breakfast with her uncle, then they would read or work on furthering her education. Even as she got older, Uncle Ardeth was still an omnipotent presence in her life. And she could not imagine it any other way.

The sun was setting, and she and Ardeth were playing a game of chess in his study. She had only beaten him a handful of times since she had learned to play about a decade ago. She liked that he never let her win.

“Checkmate,” Ardeth said.

Raja blew a raspberry and smiled, resetting the pieces.

“Surely, not another game,” he jested.

“No, I do not think I can be the loser again today.”

He chuckled and took a sip of his ale. His niece, it seemed like only yesterday she was a child, arms outstretched, wanting to be picked up and held.

“Uncle Ardeth,” she hedged, “are you all right with me and Tristan?”

His eyebrows rose at her inquiry. He took a moment before answering. “I had an inkling it would happen someday.”

“You did?”

“Yes.” Ardeth smiled fondly at her. “You have come so far, little one.”

Raja came down with a heavy heart just then, not knowing precisely why. “I still need you, Uncle,” she whispered. “You will never leave me, will you?” Tears gathered in her eyes, threatening to fall. “You can’t leave me.” When a tear fell, he got up and embraced her. She held onto him tightly.

Ardeth always did his best to remain honest with her, to not create illusions about life. “As long as I breathe, I will always be here for you, Raja.”

“I’d be lost without you,” she sobbed. “I need you, please don’t leave me.”

He held her tighter as she shook with force. She had always needed him, her anchor. Yet, he did not want to remind her that everyone must leave someday. “I love you, Raja. Do not worry yourself now. I am here.” In so many ways, that frightened, battered child was still inside of her, and there were still shadows that lingered. She was strong, but she would always need someone to stand beside her, and he knew he would not always be there to do that. Someday, he would not be there to soothe her when night terrors seized her, to hug her and reassure her that she was safe, to make sure she was taken care of. That was why he was grateful for Tristan, and though he could die in battle at any time, it was comforting to know that if in the event he was to pass on first, Tristan would be there for Raja when he could not.

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Tristan knocked on Raja’s door. He had gone to her first before bathing or making himself the least bit presentable. All he knew was that he had missed her terribly while he had been gone, three days not withstanding.

“Trissy!” Raja smiled happily and embraced him, heedless of the filth on his hauberk or the smell of his sweat and horse sweat.

He kissed her, taking both his and her breath away. “I wanted to see you first. I’m going to go get cleaned up now.”

“All right,” she said.

Tristan cleaned himself thoroughly, scrubbing his scalp, underneath his nails, feet, every nook and cranny there was. He felt refreshed and rejuvenated as he donned fresh clothes and headed back to Raja’s room. She was there, a comb at the ready to detangle his hair. In the short time, she had retrieved a meal for him and cold ale, which he ate and drank while she groomed his head carefully.

When she was done, he pulled her onto his lap, nuzzling her neck, inhaling her clean fragrance. Instantly, Raja felt his erection spring underneath her lap. When she rubbed against it, he groaned, pulling her skirts up efficiently, striking her core without restraint. Raja was already wet, she squirmed in his lap when he delved his fingers into her, and in minutes she came, but she was still expecting more. She clamped onto his wrist, squeezing her legs together to keep him there. She felt him bend his fingers inside of her, rub that especially tender spot, and she came again in little gasps and shudders. When she watched him lick his fingers again, her womb clenched.

“Tristan, I want you to take me now.”

She said it with such clarity, despite the tenseness of her body that Tristan’s eyes snapped to hers, searching for any doubt, but all he found was expectation and nervousness. “I want you to be sure. There’s no rush.” But his hard phallus was throbbing, screaming to be set free.

“I am,” she told him.

He put her on her feet and stood before her, looking down on her. He had to go slow, be gentle. Slow and gentle. Slow. Gentle.

Raja realized she had no idea what to do. Did she just strip? She found herself reaching for his belt, it clanked as it fell to the floor. He shrugged out of his coat, revealing his sex beneath his breeches. Once again, she could not tear her eyes away. Often she had wondered what he looked like...how big he was, what the hair around his privates felt like. Soon, she would know, and it made her shake.

Tristan put firm hands on her shoulders, bending to kiss her mouth. His erection pressed against her stomach, the friction heightening his need. Her hands slipped under his undershirt and tunic, feeling his chest hair, the taught muscles of his body, the scars. Raja pulled it up over his head, looking at him in awe. She placed her hands flat over his pectoral muscles, skimming her thumbs over his nipples and further down.

“I feel like I’m seeing you for the first time,” she said in a hushed voice. Her hands began to flutter so he took hers in his, rubbing his lips over her knuckles. He guided her back to her bed so her butt was pressed against it.

Their tongues met in fervor, his hand rested on her lower back and trailed down until he cupped her buttocks. He untied the lace behind her skirt and let it drop to the floor. Her blouse went halfway down her thighs, like a sheer nightgown. He undid the laces on her bodice, revealing the slopes of her breasts.

Again, uncertainties rushed in her mind. What if he found her distasteful? He was going to see all of her. Hesitantly, she went for the ties on his pants, unlacing them with care until, finally, his penis was fully visible to her, erect and pointing up at her. She couldn’t breathe, her heart pounded wildly. He kicked his pants off of his ankles and stood in his naked glory. His pubic hair was thick, his phallus an intimidating presence between them.

“You...” she cleared her throat, “...are big.” She didn’t mean for that to come out, and she blushed furiously when she heard his low chuckle. “What if I’m too small for you?” Flashes of burning pain came unbidden to her. Men pushing into her tiny body, ripping her apart.

Tristan knew what had just been in her head. “Do you want to stop? I can cover up right now.”

“No!” she shook her head. “No,” she said more calmly. At her movement, a thin strap fell off of her shoulder.

He caressed her cheek. Kissed her. He touched her nipple over the fabric and she gave a low moan. Tristan slipped his hand under, cupping her breast, touching her in a place he had so long wondered about. “Raja,” he groaned her name, pressing against her. His hands slid down to glide up the hem of her blouse. His hands made contact with her firm buttocks. He stroked down the slope of her rear, sparks zinging through his brain and body.

The garment came off, and there she was, his Raja, bared to him. In an unconscious movement she brought her arms up to cover her breasts, feeling extremely exposed. She shut her eyes to his gaze running up and down her body.

“Oh, Raja, you are beautiful.”

She winced, and turned her head. He made her look at him, repeating his statement. He set her on the bed, leaning her back. She felt his sex against her stomach as he kissed her, fondled and kneaded her aching breasts. Raja felt that liquid coming faster from her nether regions. She didn’t even realize Tristan had penetrated her with his fingers until she cried out, immediately muffling her climax.

“I’m going to look at you now,” he said. He bent her knees and kneeled on his in front of her. She clamped hers shut, knowing what he was about to do. “Let me see.”

Looking away, he pushed her thighs apart when he felt her resolve give. Just as he had thought – exquisite. Pink and shiny with her need, a triangle of black hair surrounding her core. Raja felt his tongue touch her and she instantly recoiled.

“You shouldn’t Tristan,” she warned.

He leaned between her thighs, kissed her on the stomach, his tongue moving its way down.

“Tristan,” her voice was a keening whisper.

“I want to taste you,” he groaned, his hot breath adding to the heat of her sex. He licked her nub again, and despite her reticence she felt pleasure. That first real taste sent him reeling.

Raja was helpless against his feasting. He used his fingers and tongue like a musician used his instruments. He danced in and around her sex, flicking his tongue in and out, massaging her nub, making her wild.

She kept saying that he shouldn’t, but made no move to stop him. Her hips bucked up so that Tristan used his forearm to hold her down. He didn’t stop, did not want to stop. He was addicted to her sweet taste, going down his mouth like cream. Her hands were in his hair, urging him to stay there, keep going. Her cries came free as she reached her peak over and over. When it became too much she pleaded for him to stop, and before he did, he put his mouth over her and sucked strongly, giving her one last mind blowing orgasm.

Raja panted, her breast heaving. When she opened her eyes, Tristan was looking down at her, his body covering hers. The head of his penis touched her opening, and he saw the fear in her eyes. Not of him, but of another line they were about to cross.

“Kiss me,” she said.

And he did, she tasted herself on his lips, not caring. Her thighs opened, an invitation, but when he tried to enter her, he couldn’t. She was so nervous she had clamped herself shut.

“I need you to relax,” he said softly. Soft kisses eased her body, and his head penetrated her. A deep rumble of pleasure came from Tristan as he tried not to come then and there. Little by little he entered her, a pressure built inside of her.

“So tight,” he moaned in her neck. “Gods, you’re so tight.”

“Am I hurting you?” she asked, suddenly alarmed.

He said no, which came out more like a roar when he finally buried himself to the hilt in her tight, warm sheath. “Wrap your legs around me.”

She did, and she felt him push deeper inside of her. His smooth thrusts began, creating an even hotter heat inside of them. Her thighs tightened around his waist, her channel clung like a vise around his sex, holding him mercilessly as he glided to and fro. He was in a state of heaven, and he never wanted to leave the warmth he was now in.

“Tristan?” she ventured. “It’s hot. Is it supposed to feel like this?”

“Yes,” he answered, his movements becoming faster, more determined.

Both of their noises of satisfaction mingled together, making a melodic song. He almost lost it when Raja grasped his buttocks, urging him on. She whimpered his name, he groaned hers, and together, they soared, exploding in fevered bliss. But he was not sated, he kept moving, still semi-hard. Raja felt him go at it again, momentarily confused but quickly recovering as she felt herself rise once again. He pummeled her, and she arched into him, wanting him, needing him, glorifying in the way he filled her so perfectly. She felt his warm, thick seed spurt into her, then they came down, breathing. He collapsed on top of her, saying her name over and over. Her walls contracted and loosened repeatedly, and a tiny climax overcame here. He moved to kiss her, and that one movement had her crying out as another series of sparks hit her.

“Sorry,” she said, bashful at her excitement.

“Don’t be.”

He raised himself up, but thighs tightened as she peaked. He had to smile, and just to test, he stroked upwards, and she shook...and shook, until her body finally relaxed. He slid out of her, instantly feeling the coolness hit his shiny phallus, so wet with her liquid. He lay on his side, running his finger between the valley of her breasts down to her stomach and back up again.

“How do you feel?” he asked her.

“My legs are numb. Is that supposed to happen?”

That he didn’t know. Her toes curled, he saw her shift again. “Raja...”

She knew what he was going to say.

“Do you still ache?” he said in her ear, his hand already going down, and with a few thrusts she moaned again...and again.

“There’s something wrong with me.”

“There isn’t,” he assured her.

Raja smiled at him and turned on her side. “I love you.” They kissed each other to sleep.

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Raja was having the most wonderful dream. It was all feelings, no pictures, just bright colors. She heard someone moaning, her eyes flickered open, realizing it was her in the throes of another orgasm...but...she looked down to see Tristan’s head between her legs again, that sight had her coming in hot gasps. She could barely keep her eyes open, her body was limp with sexual exhaustion, but she welcomed his entry. He held her wrists above her head as he thrust and glided his way to a morning glory of fireworks.

Tristan placed small kisses over her face, her neck, until he delved his tongue into hers, receiving an equally passionate kiss in return. He had reached out to her several times in the night, awakening her with his lust.

“You must be sore,” he apologized, slipping off of her. He had looked at her while she had slept, as he had often done when she was older and would creep into his bed. When his want for her was filled with guilt and shame. But now those curves that beckoned him from beneath the sheets were his to see, so he had pulled them back to gaze at her.

“In a good way,” she said, snuggling closer to him.

They dozed and caressed each other for a while until Raja fell asleep. He grinned at her exhaustion while he felt he could go again. But he had to let her rest. He put his clothes back on, making sure to kiss her before he left. Despite how he had just spent his last evening and this morning, he felt completely rested. Just as he was rounding the corner, he bumped into Ardeth.

“Good morning, Tristan,” the Egyptian said.

“Morning, Ardeth.” Was he on his way to see Raja? Looking at the man’s dark eyes confirmed that he knew where he had just come from and what had taken place.

Ardeth tipped his head to the side. “Walk with me, Tristan.”

Without a word, he fell into step next to him, going in the opposite direction of Raja’s room. They walked out of the keep and into the sunlight, the day was just beginning. Their tread was set at a leisure pace as Ardeth stood tall with his hands behind his back, every bit the noble he was. When they reached the open greenery where nobody was, Ardeth spoke: “I am thankful to you for remaining patient with Raja.”

Had Tristan not been the man he was, he would have cringed and shied from the topic. He had known Ardeth for over a decade, and thought him one of the most respectable and admirable men there is.

“Especially when she was younger,” the Egyptian added.

Tristan’s brow rose, his head turning towards the man.

Ardeth nodded. “Yes, I could see your feelings change for Raja in that year before we left. I am grateful for your restraint in the matter.”

“I would never hurt her.” This wasn’t a denial, but a statement.

“I know,” Ardeth said, returning his stare. “Which is why I am not worried now that yours and Raja’s relationship has bloomed. I cannot say that I did not wish it could have waited a bit longer, but here we are.”

Ardeth turned his head to look back, realizing that the two of them had walked further than noticed. “I grow old, Tristan,” he said. He thought of the ill bodings that plagued him, the gods telling him that his time was becoming short, ending. He dreamt of his deceased wife, Inara, in a field of flowers, moon rays surrounding her. She held her arms out to him, saying his name, calling for him. Anubis lurked in the distance, waiting patiently for Ardeth to step forward so he could guide Inara and him safely through to their next journey. “If I pass, Raja will need you more than ever.”

Tristan’s chest tightened. “Are you ill?”

“No. But a man knows when his time is at an end.”

The younger man saw sadness in Ardeth’s eyes, wondering how he could possibly know his life was at the end of its rope.

“I do not know exactly when,” Ardeth continued, “but you will need to be there for her.”

“I will,” Tristan assured him.

“You have never failed Raja before, Tristan.” Ardeth smiled fondly at the man, then let out a deep breath. “Come, now. Let us return.”

The first person they saw when they entered the courtyard was Raja, glowing with health. She beamed beautifully at them both, hugged her uncle tightly and gave him a kiss on the cheek. How solid the ground was underneath her feet when she was next to him, just knowing that he was alive made it easier for her to breathe. He said that he had some paperwork to do and that he would meet with her later.

Then Raja held onto Tristan, a twinkle in her eyes, all the things they had done to one another making her blush and him smile. Ardeth turned and saw them walk to the stables, his shoulders a little lighter knowing that she would be in good hands when he no longer walked the earth.

If the sky that we look upon
Should tumble and fall
And the mountains should crumble to the sea
I won't cry, I won't cry, no I won't shed a tear
Just as long as you stand, stand by me...

-Ben E. King

6/25/07