Alone in My King's Harem - Mature Flesh & Moist Flesh

Mature Flesh & Moist Flesh

Summary

Where all of the previous stories had a magical/mystical tone to them, the following two stories are set in a more mundane setting of an ordinary school. The stories follow Okabe and Hidaka, two school mates, through the initial twinges of love and attraction.
Mature Flesh has Okabe confronting his classmate Hidaka over the rumour that Hidaka will have sex with anyone who asks him. Upon confirmation of this rumour, Okabe requests that Hidaka sleep with him. As Hidaka seduces him, Okabe remembers small acts of kindness that drove him to fall in love with Hidaka.
Moist Flesh deals with the aftermath of Okabe's request. Okabe, insecure over the rumour that Hidaka will sleep with anyone, overhears Hidaka informing a classmate that he will no longer honor any requests. Okabe is flooded with self-doubt and tries to distance himself from Hidaka.

Read more about this topic:  Alone In My King's Harem

Famous quotes containing the words mature, flesh and/or moist:

    Many more children observe attitudes, values and ways different from or in conflict with those of their families, social networks, and institutions. Yet today’s young people are no more mature or capable of handling the increased conflicting and often stimulating information they receive than were young people of the past, who received the information and had more adult control of and advice about the information they did receive.
    James P. Comer (20th century)

    Philosophy can be compared to some powders that are so corrosive that, after they have eaten away the infected flesh of a wound, they then devour the living flesh, rot the bones, and penetrate to the very marrow. Philosophy at first refutes errors. But if it is not stopped at this point, it goes on to attack truths. And when it is left on its own, it goes so far that it no longer knows where it is and can find no stopping place.
    Pierre Bayle (1647–1706)

    Your wits can’t thicken in that soft moist air, on those white springy roads, in those misty rushes and brown bogs, on those hillsides of granite rocks and magenta heather. You’ve no such colours in the sky, no such lure in the distances, no such sadness in the evenings. Oh the dreaming! the dreaming! the torturing, heart-scalding, never satisfying dreaming, dreaming, dreaming, dreaming!
    George Bernard Shaw (1856–1950)