Emerald City

Thank God, I had also resisted scratching the word "cunt" on the living room wall in five feet tall letters. Carmen looked about. "Honey, did you just move in?" She shoved aside the mound of wrinkled pale blue sheets to make room, sat down on the edge of the futon and removed her high heels; she leaned back, stretched her legs out into the air, the tops of her bare feet curved forward making straight lines of her legs from thigh to toe, a perfect cheese cake pose the way her feet arced so sexily. How many times in my youth did I jack my cock seeing such imagery in a stroke book?

"No, I have been here about seven or eight months."

"Really."

Against the purple pad, Carmen's naked flesh was flashier, vivid, and striking. Raising her hips, she shimmied out of the pants. No panties under the pedal pushers, her pubis clean shaven, her gash not Moira's but its vertical lip hardened me just as readily.

The black shirt, its elastic material molded to her breasts, all that remained, but it was a remainder needing to go.

"Sweetie, get undressed. Let's fuck."

She spread her legs, her fingers busy between her legs.

I striped quickly never expecting to do this with anyone other then Moira.

My cock, not the biggest or the broadest, strictly average, but until recently it was always at the ready. Carmen, her eyes bright with lust, her fingers moisture soaked, did not shriek in horror seeing my member, her silence I took as vindication of my cock and its suitability for entertaining her. For the first time in months, my penis was erect, engorged and eager.

"You want to see my tits?

No, I want to see your collection of toenail clippings or some of your sanguine soaked tampons. Of course I wanted to see her tits. What a question.

Jack, quit being such an asshole. This modern woman, apparently sexually insatiable, in ancient times a Helen of Troy, an Aphrodite deems to fuck your brains out.

She removed the shirt, teasing me in the process, showing me the depression of her belly button in the center of the flat expanse of firm tummy, then her breasts, truly the Great Teton, I expected. Natural, firm, high, round, her nipples boosted from the center of areolas the color of river mud red with iron content.

Carmen pushed her breasts together; the chunk of diamond on her right hand sparkling under the diffused light dispersed from the floor lamp focusing much of its intensity toward the ceiling.

"What do you think?" Carmen said, nodding down at her tits, then looking at my hard cock, my flat stomach, the pectorals on my chest, my biceps, the nimbus of hair above my penis.

It was curiously restful to scrutinize each others bodies, to enjoy the eroticism of the moment, to treasure the anticipation of pleasure before committing to it.

I gasped. My mouth was too dry to utter an affirmation in appreciation of her splendid body, her perfect breasts. I grasped these breasts. Going after them without any finesse as a fielder goes for a half cocked pop fly. My cock was no less fulsome in its approbation of her tits and the rest of her naked natural gifts.

"Cock in my mouth. Cock in my mouth... She kept saying the same fragmented sentence, its underlying meaning shut me up with some cock meat. Then she said "Get your cock in mouth."

Leaning forward, as directed, I pushed my member into her wide open mouth. Clamping her lips down, she sucked, blew, and laved my cock with her tongue. Pushing deeper into her mouth, she tightened down on me. I withdrew, not too far; she raked the razor edge of her pearly white teeth across the cylinder head fucking her mouth.

My hands more attuned to handling an assortment of auto parts reveled in Carmen's texture.

In sucking cock, she salved the soreness in my heart, the residual agony of Moira trampling on it. My anger, now less concentrated, like a toothache mellowed by an effective pain remedy.

Three months and four days into my eighteenth year, I was a freshman at Stanford, living in the dorm, studying business administration. Jennifer Angstrom, a classmate with a riot of blond curls about her head and a butterfly tattooed on the cheek of her left ass, introduced me to the pleasures of fellatio. Finding pleasure in exploiting Jennifer's fetish, I continued to seek with a series of women including my soon to be ex. Some did it better then others, but no one, not even Moira, showed Carmen's expertise in going down on a dick.

I popped from her warm mouth, the sound of a cork popping out of the neck of a champagne bottle. She said something ribald, griped my member in one hand, blew at its helmet. The breeze of breath soaked into the sensitive crown of my cock, sped with the speed of light to the switchboard in my brain's pleasure center.

Every action on her part from the positioning of her body in its most beguiling pose to her sexy argot in bed were threads in a tapestry carefully woven as a backdrop to my seduction, and the succoring of all my fantasies in the course of one lazy afternoon.

For the first weeks, no, it was more like a couple of months, following the collapse of my marriage to Moira, I worked opening to closing in the store, shuffled home, drank myself into a stupor, climbed off the futon in the morning and jogged. Actually, in sweats, I looked more like a weaving gin soaked rummy or a punch drunk boxer hopping down the street not a fit as a fiddle running fool clad in tight running shorts and a tank top. A hangover my constant companion on these jaunts. Self inflicted pain punching it out with Moira's meted out agony. Of course it did not work. Browsing a bookstore, the glimpses of Carmen parading her poodle should have made me realize that pleasure was a better palliative then pain. I felt it now as Carmen sucked me so ardently. Psychologists said you needed to work through the pain, grieve, and not take things too fast. Fuck the nut doctors, I thought.

I griped Carmen's head, yanked it toward my cock and plunged into her mouth.

"I want to fuck you." In five short words, I declared my freedom from the tyranny of loving something unlovable.

I came in Carmen's mouth. My semen flooded her throat, some of the pearly substance fleeing from between the cincture of her full lips.

Carmen, flat on her back, her legs high in the air and spread wide; she clasped the bottom of her feet with her hands, eager to be penetrated.

"Fuck me Jack, fuck me hard."

I did; I dipped into her, my first pussy since Moira. Up on my toes, my hands on either side of Carmen, arms braced doing push-ups, my cock in her pussy on the down- stroke.

Carmen, tight around me, her womb soaked through and through, my cock stirred up by it. In her soaking wet vault my cock was a torpedo speeding through her hot broth, aiming to explode. My balls slapped down against her. She moaned and clutched her legs about my lower back. I kissed her, her nipples then in my mouth; I continued to pump in and out of her. The heels of her feet pressed into the middle of my back. She squeezed.

"Give me that hot stuff."

"Not yet." I bit her left nipple.

"Fuck me." Carmen said.

Carmen reached under me and stroked my balls, felt for the underside of my cock as I pushed into her. The tips of her fingers scratched at my nut sack.

"Suck my tits,"

I leaned down, sucked her left nipple and then the right and then the left. Her nipples tasted of citrus.

"Pound the shit out of me baby. Give me that hot stuff."

My semen spurted; she tightened her legs around me, orgasm rippling through her or she was quite the faker.

I withdrew, stood, the proud bull, Hemingway's honored hoofed symbol of masculinity. Looking down at this hard breathing woman, her heaving huge breasts filling my field of vision hardened me again and I fucked her again.

Beat your chest, bay at the moon, Jack Findlander, you animal, you sex god.

My body slick with sweat, heart racing, and my penis tired out, I collapsed on the futon next to Carmen.

Flipping on my right side, Carmen's gifts dazzled me, delighted me. I always made the high school's honor roll and graduated from Stanford suma cum laude with no great difficulty. However, had I been a complete moron, I would have still detected my grandfather's handiwork. No doubt this woman with the hefty breasts, the flat belly, the wide hips and long legs had delighted him as she now delighted me. With a simple telephone call, a whisper, an email Matthew Findlander arranged this meeting between Carmen and me. Carmen owed Matthew Findlander. At some point maybe he owned her. He asked for a favor, called in a debt. She could comply with it or not. My grandfather believed in free will, choices. No way was she a babe in the woods compelled to do something she found degrading or demeaning. By doing this she was settling an account, making good on a debt.

At some point I would have found my way to this happy place. My grandfather, God love him, had sped up the process. This was the satiation of lust, not love and I gratefully grabbed for it now. If my grandfather in his own inimitable way was throwing me, the drowning man, a life ring, I would be a fool to cast it aside.

A knock on the door, a series of taps, startled me.

"Lover, you might want to get that."

I stood, jammed one leg in my pants.

"Forget the pants, live dangerously."

"Are you daring me?" I asked before removing my leg from the trousers. Naked, erect, I moved the short distance to the door. Carmen, grinning, watched me.

Hopefully, Mabel Anderson, one of my neighbors, an 83 year old lady with white hair and thick ankles was not standing in front of my portal with a tray of warm chocolate chip cookies. My nakedness might keel her over, drop her dead to the floor like a punched out cow in an abattoir.

I took the coward's way out and cracked opened the door an inch and no more.

In the carpeted hallway, on my doorstep, Ava Gardner stood on the black rubber mat, in its center the word WELCOME in red letters a quarter inch high, barely decipherable from a distance. She wore a black trench coat. Unfortunately, Ava Gardner was dead. The woman standing in front of me, bearing such a striking resemblance to Ms Gardner was Gwen, my grandfather's mistress. Precariously balanced on turquoise pumps, the spiked heels a good five inches tall, Gwen was definitely the next best living thing to the late movie star.

"I am here to party."

I opened the door. Gwen stepped into my quarters.

"Hello Carmen."

"Hello sweetie. Just as you said, Jack is one sweet, adorable fuck."

"I knew he would be. His grandfather is like the Energizer Bunny and Jack is 50 years younger. I cannot wait to have his cock in me."

"Guys, I am in the room," I said.

"Sorry Jack. I have to admit the two of us set you up."

"Set me up. This was not my grandfather's idea?"

"No, this was totally my idea. My womanly wiles did not seem to be working on you, so I asked Carmen to help me out and she seems to have succeeded admirably,"

"I thought my grandfather had set this whole thing up.

"Honey, you need to work on your confidence. Who is to say I just found you attractive and wanted a good hard fuck," Carmen said.

So, you and Carmen are friends?"

"Oh yes, we go way back don't we Carmen."

"Way way back," Carmen answered.

"Jack, I never saw a man in more desperate need of having his ashes hauled and that is what Carmen did and what I plan to do." Gwen said.

Gwen looked down at Carmen swaddled in the damp sheets.

Teasingly, Gwen slowly untied the belt surrounding her waist; taking her sweet time, she unbuttoned each black buttons running down the front of the trench coat. Without any strip teasing music but with perfect rhythm and with all the sensuality of a seasoned ecdysiast, Gwen's luscious body came into view, the lush nude body of a former centerfold, a porno goddess of unrivaled sexual skills if no true acting ability exposed in all its glory.

Gwen stepped close, kissed me on the lips, fully and firmly as her nipples brushed against my naked chest. As she held the kiss, she reached down and stroked my cock with her right hand.

Gwen plopped on the futon next to Carmen, they kissed.

"Jack, join us." Gwen said.

"Yes," Carmen waved at me.

I sprawled between them, flat on my back.

Gwen climbed between my legs and took my cock into her mouth, sucked, swallowed my cock to its very base. Her blow job was proving to be just as proficient as Carmen's if not actually superior. She tended to lick more then Carmen but her suction was just as rigorous, no less heavenly.

Still wearing her cum fuck me pumps, her head down, bottom up, a common position for praying in certain parts of world, Gwen preyed on my cock. Carmen shifted about, squatted behind Gwen, and used both her hands to push out the hemispheres of Gwen's ass. Her tongue snaked into Gwen's pussy. I could feel Gwen pushing back against Carmen's mouth.

Carmen licked and Gwen lapped.

Was this the Twilight Zone? When did I discover I had died and this was my new found paradise or merely a pleasant interlude to lull me into a complacency before being shoved off a ledge and dropping toward the bottomless pit of hell. Fucking two buxom, sexually uninhibited women never seemed in the cards for me, the staid married man totally into monogamy.

Wiggling her ass against Carmen's tongue, Gwen sucked me harder.

"Come in my mouth baby. I love to swallow warm sperm."

I had no idea where it came from but I did come in Gwen's mouth, I came furiously.

For a time the three of us rested. I opened a dusty bottle of merlot. The three of us, my cock quiescent at the moment, their smooth bodies and my rougher one cooling down on the futon, we sipped warm wine. Surrounded by huge breasts and shaved twats, I was one happy camper. Kiss my ass Moira.

"I want to light my candles," I said. When I gathered my few possessions, I took the six candles Moira had deemed to use so dishonorably the night I caught her fucking the guy with the lose toupee. Let her get her own candles.

"I love fucking in candlelight," Carmen said.

"Me too," Gwen answered.

I removed the candles from a cardboard box and positioned them about the room and used a wooden match plucked from a box kept in a drawer in the kitchenette.

After finishing the wine, Carmen started stroking my cock with her long, slender fingers. Gwen joined in, her fingers sweeping across my penis. In the glow of the candlelight Carmen took my cock in her mouth and Gwen sucked my balls into hers. It reminded me of the way Moira licked at my balls when we made love. I pushed Moira out of my mind as these two women played with my cock and simultaneously licked me. This was truly paradise.

My hands found their bodies, my fingers played with their breasts then my index fingers, the left one for Gwen, the right one for Carmen gravitated into the tunnels between their legs. I finger fucked them, they mouth fucked me.

I came in Gwen's mouth. Before she swallowed my semen, she dribbled some small portion of it into Carmen's mouth like a momma bird feeding a baby bird its sustenance.

I assumed a lotus position in the chair, watched these two women fuck, do the female to female thing. In the dwindling candlelight Gwen's mouth nuzzled Carmen's pussy. They eagerly attached each other's orifices, stroked each other's flesh, kissed tenderly and played like puppy bitches. Watching, my left fist played over my cock.

The candles burned out. I fucked Gwen. I fucked Carmen. We slept, me sandwiched between them. Carmen was on my left, her left hand holding my shaft. Gwen was on my right, her right hand griping my shaft too.

Falling asleep, they promised to blow me, using their mouths simultaneously. I looked into the dark. Often in the past I sat in my easy chair, stared into the darkness, felt comfortable in its cloak, willed it to stay, not successful with my pleas, seeing a smudge of gray followed by the draining away of the dark, the advent of morn and me cursing my weakness, my loathing of myself for not having the strength to move on.

Now, I wished to see this darn darkness go away pronto.

I need to get out of here, find a bigger and more comfortable place. I can afford it, I thought. Something grand, gold taps in the bath, a walk-in freezer in the kitchen, a living room opening to an eye catching vista, a bed the size of Montana, the entire package a luxurious oasis shared with these two delicious women. I think I could sell grandfather on the idea. He would just have to Gwen and bare it. A pathetic pun but it made me feel wonderful.