Drums

Inclement weather meant two things for the Gathering. Firstly, the silk caftans and sandals that normally served as cover-ups between the parked cars and the hosts' home had to be replaced with ankle-length, hooded, cashmere sweaters and fur-lined low boots. The second was harder for the starry-night-loving crowd. They would have to meet indoors, at the Nguyens'.

For it was, indeed, Mark Nguyen, Ph. D. (MIT), MS, BS (Mathematics) who had the solution to bad weather. The short, slender (and utterly brilliant) Vietnamese-American had been appeared the kind of dreamy, absent-minded student that professors and mentors fully expect to delve deeply into abstract theorems and obscure proofs. They envisioned him perhaps attaining the Einstein chair at Princeton or earning the Field's Medal. The truth disappointed them deeply. Mark only specialized in math because he was preternaturally good at it. The Great Unsolved Puzzles had no attraction for him, nor did exploring rarefied and exotic abstractions. Rather, his intent all along was to come up with a way to make money, lots of money, and then to quit completely. He succeeded. His dissertation had involved certain statistical engines that related marvelously to the financial world. First he had applied them himself and made a pile. Then he licensed his techniques to the great investment houses and hedge funds of New York, London, Zurich and Singapore. The return from that venture made his earlier fortune seem like beer money. What really turned out, to the academic world's surprise, to be the single-minded passions of Dr. Nguyen's life were the elfin China doll that lived across the street from his parents . . . and orchids!

Mark's adored Chelsea was barely five feet tall and weighed 99 lbs, soaking wet. She seemed reserved, deferential, fragile, and delicate. The Army should know so much about camouflage! Chelsea combined a gymnasts' strength with a contortionist's flexibility, an angel's face with a wanton's appetites and was adjudged by the Gathering to be as good a lay as Victoria Smyth-Jefferson.

The home they shared with twin daughters (away at college) and a son (in med school) was large, refined, subtle and comfortable. Its surrounding estate was fifteen acres of greenhouses! When entertaining fellow AOS judges or botanical scholars from around the world, the areas Mark showed off were unremarkable in design but mind-boggling in content. Miles of growing benches sat under equal miles of hanging plants. Rare species, original hybrids, warm rooms, cool rooms, and moderate rooms held a private collection that brooked no competition, not even from Singapore or from Bangkok. What these guests never saw was a cunningly disguised door leading to a completely different sort of room.

This was the room to which the Gathering repaired when the temperature so dropped that gold would conduct cold to delicate, female flesh. Here, hidden in the center of the Nguyen's world-class plant collection, was a "Pleasure Dome" Coleridge, himself, could have never imagined. Couches wide enough for two and strong enough for four sat in the middle of lawns of moss and were surrounded by bright specimen plants chosen for their mesmerizing fragrance and their habit of blooming in winter. Erotic bronzes gleamed in the candle light. Nooks and crannies abounded. Cushions of varying shape and size encircled a teak dance floor that lay above a cistern. This, in turn, would be filled with water until a proper level was reached. Then the dance could begin and under the pounding feet the floor would boom like an enormous drum. Ringing bells joined the resonant dance floor to cast a hypnotic spell over the assembly. Add to this the sight of writhing, luscious women, glistening with sweat, and the effect could, and often did, bring members of the Gathering to orgasm without so much as a fingertip being laid on anyone. No matter how often she came to the place, Victoria couldn't help but be hugely impressed.

Deserea was stunned by it all. "Oh my God!" she breathed.

When the Smyth-Jeffersons and Justin arrived moments later, his response was equally heartfelt, though coarser. "Holy shit! Would you look at that?"

Not even the rustle of cashmere falling to the ground on all around him could break his enchantment until his mother's murmured "Darling, you're looking well" and the gentle rake of her nails down his chest and belly brought him back to reality. He looked deeply into her corn-flower blue eyes and responded "Mother, it's been amazing."

"I can hardly wait to find out, dear, and I will, oh, I will! Justin, my sweet, you're mine! But later, my son, later."

Swallowing in surprise, Justin turned to Deserea and found her wrapping both arms around his neck and one leg around his thighs. "Justin, my sweet," she began, "when she's done with you, I'm . . ." but before she could finish he hugged her fiercely to his chest.

"After we're finished, you're mine . . . forever!"

The surprised girl squealed in delight, "Forever? Oh God, yes, forever! Please, Justin, do we even need to ride the Wave? Let's just find a bench and fuck all night! You can't imagine how much I've missed you."

This time it was Deserea's mother who gently pried them apart. "Yes, darlings, this time you can find a bench and fuck all night but later, my children, later. The entire gathering hasn't even arrived and they will be expecting a show. And since they expect a show, a show they will get, starring Smyth-Jefferson/McAllister. Now go make your hellos to our hosts and greet everyone. And Justin, get naked . . . now!"

Mildly surprised by the intensity of Victoria's command, Justin pulled off his fleece-wear, dropped it into a waiting basket on top of his mother's cashmere and stood up nude, pale and completely shaved. There was a subtle but distinct change in the atmosphere. Two months ago the youth was so shy that he hid from the rapt attention of coeds. Now he suddenly knew he was an object of desire, not only to the three women next to him and to those just entering the room but, much to his astonishment, to the men as well. Perhaps it was his white, northern skin or his perfectly developed musculature. Whichever it was, something about him brought to mind later Greek kouroi and the attraction such young men had for both sexes. Whatever the reason, the entire Gathering, as it filed into the room, smiled, licked their lips and took mental notes to better make his future acquaintance. When he and Deserea walked up to the Nguyen's for the customary kiss and caress, Chelsea pulled his face down, drove her tongue between his lips and ran her soft hands down his face, his chest, and his six-packed belly to his crotch. There she took his balls and hardening cock in her hands and weighed them, pulling slightly. "Dr. Nguyen," she turned to her husband, "won't dear Mr. McAllister make a lovely sandwich?"

"Yes, and so will Deserea," was the murmured reply. "However, good manners do require that it be later, my dear, later. Fortunately, the night is long . . ."

"But perhaps not long enough," Chelsea looked like she was having second thoughts. "Mr. McAllister, I have this feeling that during your training Victoria never broke out any of her strap-ons. She didn't, did she?"

"Uh, no."

"And Mr. Smyth-Jefferson never got 'hands-on', either, did he?"

"Well, he coached me about timing and control, but that was all." Justin began to feel apprehensive about the direction this conversation was taking. He definitely wasn't looking to be the centerpiece of a bisexual orgy tonight; he just wanted all the time with Deserea he could get.

"Uh-huh!" grunted Mark. "It will be quite a while later, then. Make that clear to all, dear," he looked pointedly at his wife. "We don't want anyone surprised or upset, now, do we?"

"We certainly do not," she giggled, "though keep in mind, young man, that male and female mouths and hands feel equally good and that a tight, well-greased bottom is tight, slippery and hot no matter whom it belongs to." She saw his slightly worried expression and then remembered. "Oh dear, we didn't introduce you to the joys of the prostate massage last month, did we. How inconsiderate of us. Deserea, come here." She pulled the youngest Smyth-Jefferson aside and began to whisper earnestly to her.

While Justin was trying to decide whether to make a protest, attempt to listen in or to ignore the previous few minutes and get on with greeting the other guests, a tan brunette adorned in all-black jewelry and a black loincloth came up, kissed him soundly and ran a overly familiar hand down his back and between the cheeks of his butt. "Hello, you would be the younger Mr. McAllister." She purred, "I'm Cynthia DeGenoa and I would like to claim you for the evening. However, I have been advised you will be spending most of it deep inside dear Deserea. I just want you to know that at your earliest convenience . . . I'm yours!"

DeGenoa! That was the name in the news story about the terrible train wreck that had taken a '. . . rising young surgeon who left a young wife and two elementary school-age children. -- AP'

Justin hurried to express his sympathy, "Ms. DeGenoa . . ." he began.

"Ah-ah! Mind your manners, Mr. McAllister, ladies are addressed by their first names out of affection and men by their formal titles out of respect." Cynthia smiled, "And if you were going to tell me how sorry you are about my loss, your kindness is greatly appreciated. The vicar it will take time before my emotional wounds are fully healed, but that's not why I'm here tonight. I've returned to the Gathering for purely physical needs. I came back to be royally fucked and royally fucked I will be, even if not by you, I guess . . . yet."

There was a wicked twinkle in her eye that made Justin want to reconsider his original plan to spend the entire night with Des. "Uh . . . it would be most ungentlemanly of me to deny a lady in need any aid I could offer, wouldn't it?" He blushed in happy surprise to see her face light up. Cynthia threw her arms around his neck and one leg around his butt exactly the way Deserea had.

"Mr. McAllister," Cynthia announced between kisses, "you are a rake and a cad. I like that in a man! Mount your dear mother, and then ride the Wave with Deserea. I'll see you in about three hours and we'll see how depraved we can get. Now don't forget me! I'll be the one with a glove and tube of KY. You're going to love what I'm going to do to you . . . both!" With that she slipped away from him and into the warm, even heated embrace of Master Harold leaving Justin to try and get his breathing back under control.

All Gathering members customarily greeted each other with a kiss and a caress. Normally the kisses were warm and the caresses affectionate but not impassioned. Going from couple to couple while completely naked, Justin found things a bit different this night. While the kisses remained the same, French style double cheek with the men and full lipped and prolonged with the women, the caresses were no longer just familiar. The repeated cupping of his buttocks with fingers pressed between them by absolutely everyone was unsettling but increasingly arousing. Repeated memories of the phrases "a tight, well-greased bottom is tight, slippery and hot no matter whom it belongs to" and "I'll be the one with a glove and a tube of KY" slightly alarmed but also excited him. He was sure that Victoria's promise that he and Deserea could find a bench and fuck all night meant that they could fuck each other, alone, all night but he was beginning to wonder. Perhaps another flute of Moet would clarify things and calm his nerves. After all, the rules for the Gathering were clear. No one ever had to do anything they didn't want to. The question was becoming what, exactly, did he want to do?

The evening wore on with tray after tray of fresh sushi and cases of chilled champagne. The ladies went from lap to lap sipping from crystal flutes and inserting maki into their men's mouths. Deserea, perched onto her father's thighs, was holding her breasts around a California roll with one hand while pulling Charles' mouth down to it with the other when Sonya beckoned. "It is time, Deserea, the music will start momentarily."

Deserea ran her tongue around the inside of her father's ear and whispered, "Mr. Smyth-Jefferson, after the dance, I'm yours. After nineteen years as your daughter, tonight I'm your woman!"

"For one ride tonight, Des, you're mine." Charles replied. "After that I expect to see you and Justin doing the Two-Tone Tango. Understood?"

"Of course, Mr. Smyth-Jefferson, did you think I'd do anything else?" With that sassy retort Deserea slipped off to join her mother and godmother in the center of the dance stage.

The three stood back to back with arms upraised, hips cocked and breasts outthrust and paused dramatically. Then the quiet, sensual, opening strains of Ravel's Bolero brought a hush to the Gathering. Smyth-Jefferson/McAllister women stomped their heels on the downbeat of each measure then swung shoulders, hips and breasts to make their bells answer the echoing boom of the dance-floor. As the music swelled, their writhing increased in eroticism and sweat began to brighten dark, light and medium skin.

Nearing the end of the piece, Victoria could see Cynthia's left hand down the front of Angus McAllister's loose trousers and her right firmly wrapped around Justin's phallus. She stoked keeping time with the rhythm while her eyes were focused on the dancer's hips. Responding to the glance, Victoria murmured "Now!" to her partners and they simultaneously unbuckled their belts and dropped the loincloths to the teak beneath their feet. Gently discarding the belts onto the piles of silk, the three spread their thighs and rocked their hips forward and back. The obvious invitation was almost more than the Gathering could stand but everyone managed to wait for the end of the music before reaching for the nearest person with one hand and for a condom with the other.

Scooped up and carried off by their men, the dancers gleefully impaled themselves on erections that quivered in appreciation. The thought flashed across Justin's mind that he was reentering the birth canal he'd emerged from almost two decades before. Surely it must feel better this time. Sonya's slight figure perched across his lap; the youth began to take deeper and deeper breaths, drawing thechi energy back from his genitals and up toward his brain. His mother smiled fondly, watching her son progress further into manhood before her very eyes . . . and between her very thighs! Her breathing, too, deepened for the same reasons and with the same effect. Alternating breaths sent the energy from one to the other, electrifying brains and bodies into a transcendental state that joined bodies at their root and souls at their apex. Parental/filial love became erotic love as their relationship changed from mother/son to man/woman. Nothing would ever be the same again.

Deserea's response was similar. The penis that now gave her delight was the one that gave her life. As she stared into her sire's deep brown right eye and surrendered herself to orgasm, she wasn't sure which she was more grateful for. Vaginal muscles in full play, she squeezed her father's phallus in rhythm with the musical memories of the past hour. Mons to cervix she stroked him as though trying to absorb her father fully into her womb. Climax after extended climax swept across the six until finally Angus lifted Victoria off his manhood and announced that it was time to release the youngsters to each other's passion and for the parents to seek the pleasure of others' company.

Slung over Justin's shoulder, Deserea protested "Mr. McAllister, can't we just find a nearby bench and have at it? Do we really need the Wave of Bliss when we already know that we're engaged?"

Justin's response was a curt "Yes!" as he sought out a small private patch of moss beneath a stunningAerides odorata that was fully two and a half feet across. The fragrance of its mass of blooms was nearly overpowering and it was there that Justin lowered his betrothed to the ground, pulled himself into an open lotus and her onto his lap.

"Oooo," Des cooed, grasping his swollen member in both hands, "you're still so hard! Playing with mommy must have been fun for her big boy. Does mommy's big boy want to play with daddy's little girl, now, instead?" She put her hands on his shoulders, her pussy against his belly and slid down onto his erect phallus. Wrapping her legs around his waist into the classic yabyum position she locked her gaze onto Justin's right eye and remaining otherwise motionless, began to work her vaginal walls up and down along his length. Imagining the flow of power out of her mouth, into her man's nose, down his torso, out his penis and back into her body, her arousal rose and rose to heights she'd never experienced. Faster her hot, slick canal caressed her lover and ever faster. Deeper they breathed together and ever deeper. Higher their passion rose and ever higher until after an unmeasured time they threw their heads back, opened their mouths and screamed in climax, melting into each other, bodies joined, souls joined, and hearts joined, forever.

They were still joined sometime later when Cynthia DeGenoa finally found them. She looked down on the couple lying on their sides gently applying tongues to genitals in the classic 69 position, though it was obvious that the white heat of their earlier passion had been replaced by the warm coals of affection. "I hate to interrupt such a romantic scene," she smiled, "but certain preparations for your wedding night are in order. We will begin, now."

"You mean when he buggers me?" asked Deserea, looking up. "I know how that's done, mother was quite explicit. I can hardly wait, you know, every bride ought to have some sort of virginity to offer her groom."

"That's exactly what I'm referring to, dear," the older woman replied, "but probably not in the way you think. We women of the Gathering aren't opposed to being enjoyed in 'the back door' but we definitely believe that what is saucy for the goose should be a goose for the gander. If your backside in tight, slippery and hot, his should be likewise so tonight Mr. McAllister loses his anal virginity in preparation for taking yours."

Both young people sat up, alarmed. "You mean he can't have me back there until someone has him?" Deserea seemed offended and Justin turned paler and looked more than a little apprehensive.

"Not by someone, Deserea, by you." Cynthia smiled reassuringly. "And I'm here to make sure that the experience is pleasant for you both as well as make sure that the same is true next Gathering when he completes the consummation of your marriage. Let's begin gently. Mr. McAllister, please lie back down and spread your legs, wide."

She reached under his buttocks and pulled to both straighten his back and better expose his anus. Reaching into the velvet bag she carried, Cynthia pulled out two transparent gloves and tossed one to Deserea. Now the girl understood the Gathering's fashion for short, round fingernails. Even her mother's stylish claws were paste-ons that were always gone on any Gathering night. She watched fascinated as, pulling the condom off the penis that had gone soft with surprise moments before, Cynthia lifted Justin's scrotum and spread his buttocks with her left hand. Turning to the girl, the widow instructed "Open the KY, darling, and put a good dollop of it on the ball of my index finger. Please observe that I am not just sticking my finger inside, point on, but pushing the entire gob of lube inside."

Justin gasped. "Now Mr. McAllister," Cynthia continued, "you're going to bear down strongly, just like you would on the toilet. Come on, push!"