More Dutch & Rosa Ch. 04

Chapter 4

Dutch & Rosa -- Marcie & Evie -- Ann & Davy

They were in the largest room of a small San Diego art museum, a place he'd never heard of until Robert had urged him to visit one day while they were watching the Dodgers play the Padres. Of course he made sure Rosa accompanied him, dragging her away from what she considered a prospective client, a very prospective client. During the drive Dutch worried that Rosa might just lose a hefty commission because of his insisting that she accompany him. But now that they had been browsing through the galleries for thirty minutes or so he was pleasantly surprised at how much she was enjoying the pictures.

"Dutch, look at this." She said, tugging at his arm. "Do you think it's real?"

Arching his eyebrows, he smiled and said, "You're asking me?"

But, cupping his chin in his hand he gave the painting his careful consideration. It was an abstract in greens and blues of varied shades and tones. Rosa was reading the title of the piece aloud. He gave her a smile. "You're right. That's a painting on the wall in front of you."

She made a face. "Don't be funny, Dutch. I recognize the painting, it's a Kandinsky, I was just wondering if it's an original."

He cocked his head from side to side. Finally he shook his head, "Not an original, nope, no way."

But Rosa had already approached a guard and had her answer.

With a mischievous gleam in her eyes she studied Dutch. "It's a copy. A very good copy by another famous painter, but it's not the original. Now how did you know that?"

He shrugged, "I just felt it."

She laughed. "You're awful," she said. "Why did we come here anyway?'

"I told you, Robert recommended it. You know whatever he suggests you go for."

She laughed. "That's sexually, baby, not art."

He made a grab for her. "I'm up for anything, lady."

She swatted his hand away. An older woman across the room glanced disapprovingly at them.

"Stop it Dutch," Rosa whispered.

"What say we find a hiding place somewhere?"

She started walking away from him. But he followed on her heels. Rosa tried to look stern, but her dusky face was coloring. "You'll get us thrown out," she said, but he could tell she wanted to laugh.

I'm glad she has a sense of humor, he thought, and leered back at her.

Rosa stopped in front of a Picasso. "I can't believe I have a real Picasso in front of me. I've never seen one before. In fact I can't recall the last time I was in an art museum." Her eyes were glistening with tears of joy. "I want to thank you for bringing me here, Dutch."

He sidled up to her, put his arm around her waist. Rosa looked up at him. "Are you going to behave?"

"Only if you want me to," he said, gazing into her dark brown eyes. She was silhouetted against a pair of French doors that opened onto a tropical garden. The light cast soft shadows across her features; and heightened the natural pout of her lips. In his mind's eye he saw them closing down on his member and he groaned softly.

"What's with you? You're acting weird today."

"I was just thinking of you sucking my...."

"Dutch!" Rosa slapped him playfully, and rolled her eyes.

"I was!" He insisted, and she glanced down and saw his bulging trousers.

"I'm glad you didn't wear those shorts today, you'd be hanging out of them."

"Just know this, Rosa, I love you and I want you."

"Can't you wait until we get home?"

"There's no time like the present. And wasn't only a couple weeks ago that you were all over me at every opportunity? I mean, your office, the hospital, which almost got me fired."

'Dutch . . ." she said, feigning exasperation. But her lower lip was trembling with a sudden desire and he knew it. He inhaled and smelled the musky heat rising from her loins.

He reached for her. Rosa tried to duck, but he managed to get one finger in a belt loop. He hadn't intended it, but as she spun around, he found his other hand on her breast. Her face flushed crimson.

"Dutch!" She cried out in alarm. But her voice was throaty and she realized her lips had gone dry despite a fresh coating of lipstick.

"Do you want to or not? He hadn't moved his hand. "There's a bench around the corner . . ."

Her lips parted, her tongue darted out and swiped some saliva across them. Her mind was racing and her eyes began to focus on a place far away. Dutch pressed closer. He could feel the heat of her stomach through his trousers. He remembered moments like this from high school. The time in the pool house with Wanda Philips, who'd had those luscious melons.... The memory faded as he bent to kiss Rosa; brushed her forehead with his cheek.

"I have to ask you to leave." It was a huge black guard, standing a few feet away from them.

Dutch glanced over his shoulder, deadpan. "You're not allowed to kiss your girl in here?" He was still holding Rosa close.

"It's not about that. We're closing now," the man said in a neutral voice.

"You'll have to excuse him," Rosa said. She'd extricated herself and was pulling on his arm. Her professionalism surfaced and she said, "You have some marvelous things here, we must come back when..." she paused then said, "At an earlier time of the day.'

The guard nodded. "We'll have a new exhibit in two weeks, please come then."

Before he knew it, she had levied him out into the bright sunlight. "Kinda early to be closing," he said and then looking at his watch he realized the guard was right. It was after five.

***

"Why are you laughing?" He was behind her now, but had caught a glimpse of her face in the huge mirror across from the king-size bed at the motel they had rushed to after leaving the museum.

"I'm not laughing," Rosa said, turning her face against a pillow. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed, her hair gone from black to ebony with the sweat. Long strands were plastered to her forehead. She bit her lip as he moved against her, then gasped with the sudden pleasure his thick prick bestowed as it churned into the deepest part of her passage.

"I saw you," he said, but had to close his own eyes now. He clutched at her hips, as if to pull her closer, as if it would be possible to move her inside him somehow, but her flesh was slippery and his hands were starting to work in some rhythm they had concocted on their own.

"I can't believe . . ." she broke off and tossed her head against the bedclothes.

He pulled back, trying to prolong the moment, but it took only one glance downward to see her labia stretched to their limits as they bulged around his member like a salami entering it's casing for him to give up; and with a soft groan, he rejoined her; and fell to his side. Rosa groaned softly, as the unbelievable sensations his huge prick brought about returned and she urged her pelvis tighter against him -- seeking to keep herself glued to him -- trying to keep their rhythms intact. She arched upward, rocked slightly, managed somehow to work him onto his back.

He opened his eyes again as she began to rise and fall above him, saw her face upturned, her hair tumbling free, her lovely neck arched; and his cock sluicing in and out of her crevice with each of her facile movements.

"Can't believe what?" he managed, after what seemed an eternity had elapsed. He felt giddy, slightly delirious, nothing in his mind but sensation. Slipperiness. A wet silk glove clasping him, unclasping him.

"That you had . . . this all planned," she spoke in bursts, her hands digging into the flesh of his chest for punctuation.

"It was . . . a spur of the moment thing," he rasped.

"Oh yes," she said after a moment or two. But she wasn't talking about plans of any kind.

"Yeah!" he answered with a groan of his own as he listened to her bright cries of pleasure spiraling toward him as he emptied his seed into her, until they both collapsed onto the soaking wet sheets, panting, both of them gasping for air.

***

He could smell the shampoo in her hair, the sweat, the hint of sex as she finally pulled away.

"Happy?" he asked.

"Oh yeah. I just think of you and Kathy, all the wonderful things we have going for us."

She scooted up to kiss him, but he twisted, feeling her sliding, still warm and damp against his hip. He tried to keep her there, but she ducked out of his arms and hurried to the bathroom.

"There are very few things that will keep me away from that wonderful prick of yours," she said laughing. He looked confused for a second, so she added, "A girl's gotta pee sometime," and gave his limp member a sloppy kiss and scurried away the bathroom.

"Take one for me while you're in there," he called out after her, laughing happily.

A minute or two later she called to him from the bathroom. "Come on, let's take a shower and go home.

***

Meanwhile, in Marilyn's San Francisco brownstone, 19 year old Marcie slipped her hand from the almost one year younger Evie's panties and gazed down at her dripping fingers. She had been leisurely fingering Evie for the longest time and the bedroom fairly reeked of little Evie's arousal.

Sliding deftly from the bed, Marcie knelt between Evie's splayed knees, grabbed the sticky wet crotch of her thong lingerie and pulled them to one side.

"You gonna?" Evie inquired as she absentmindedly teased a nipple into turgid readiness.

"Yeah, I am."

"Mmmm, I was hoping . . ." But Marcie heard nothing else but the blood rushing to her head as she leaned down and pressed her face into the ripe, young cunt in front of her. With her mouth wide open she managed to cover the length and breath of Evie's moistened haven.

Evie's free hand moved swiftly to her clitoris, which was already poking its head out from under its hooded cover. Using two fingers, one on either side of the tiny nub, she applied a light pressure as she moved the fingers up and down. Marcie was contentedly lapping the younger girl's pussy, starting at the rear of her slit up to the top. Sometimes she caught a piece of Evie's clit, other times she merely licked the girl's busy fingers. It didn't seem to matter much too either girl. Marcie continued with this pattern for a while until her tongue grew tired, at that point she used her thumbs to spread the girl's luscious pussy apart and buried her face in her crotch, sucking Evie's outer labia and listening to Evie moan at the sensations she was causing to stampede through her body.

When Evie suddenly jerked her hips up in an almost involuntary gesture, Marcie decided it was time to get serious and resorted to pressing her tongue against Evie's vulva, managing to pry it open enough for her tongue to slither inside the young girl.

Evie's fists were clenched in the silken sheets of the bed, a fierce grimace on her face as she thrashed about in the first throes of an orgasm. Marcie loved going down on her friend; loved the varied tastes eking from her inner recesses; even now she was savoring a strange metallic type flavor and she wondered if Evie's menstrual cycle was close at hand. Could she eat her during her cycle? Probably not, but the thought of doing it seemed very enticing.

Her meandering thoughts were interrupted as Evie reached her initial climax and hastening to make it a better one, Marcie drew the girl's clit into her mouth and rubbed it softly with her tongue. Evie was rocking and rolling now, moaning and groaning; biting her left hand while her right was tangled in Marcie's red hair. Marcie mashed her lips against Evie's cunt and sucked as hard as she could. Evie's hips jerked upward and only the top of her head and her heels were in contact with the bed.

"Jesus! Jesus! It's never been this . . ." Then, overwhelmed by the torrent of orgasmic sensations, she lost her voice and all other comprehension except the fantastic floating exhilaration of her climax.

Finding herself overheated and seeking some serious relief, Marcie climbed back on the bed and on top of Evie, who continued to writhe unknowingly through what she would later call her best ever . . . cum.

Marcie wriggled out of her panties and brought herself down on Evie so that they were face to face and belly to belly and cunt to cunt. And when their mounds mashed against one another, Marcie felt her orgasm starting to rev up. She began rubbing her pussy against Evie's and derived the greatest feeling of love for her companion when the girl responded in kind.

And so they fucked each other, generating a series of squishy sounds from the copious flow of juices from the two of them. Squeezing her ass tightly with muscles she never knew existed, Marcie managed to apply even more pressure on Evie's twat -- and she saw, rather than felt Evie's cunt petals separating and permitting her vulva to penetrate her ever so little. But it was sufficient to cause her orgasm to peak and explode over her as she pumped away at Evie as if it were a ten inch cock she had jammed into her friend and lover.

Both girl's labia and clits were fully engorged, and without realizing what they were doing they were trying to fuck one another with their respective clits. Rubbing them against the others vulva; occasionally causing clit to flicker over clit; and then both girls were coming and grinding hard against the other.

Soon after, both lay exhausted on the bed, entangled in the sheets, arms and legs wrapped around each other. Only when they both realized that Marilyn had entered the room did they find the energy to begin a long, sensual kiss.

Marilyn began applauding. "What a wonderful performance girls. I didn't think you two had it in you."

Evie looked over at Marilyn a dazed expression on her face. Marcie was scowling at the older woman, but Marilyn ignored her, plopping onto the bed, she threw her arms around the lithe Evie and kissed her. She too loved the forbidden tastes that emerge from a woman's hidden crevices and savored them as might a connoisseur of fine wines.

Evie opened her mouth to welcome her mistress's serpentine tongue, reveling in the sensations as it explored her mouth, feeling the slickness of her pearly teeth; the furrows at the roof of her mouth and the lovely caress it bestowed on her own tongue when the two finally met. Marilyn's fingers were already delving into the young girl's cunt, seeking her "G" Spot and, on finding it, sending the girl over the edge with another mind-boggling orgasm.

With Evie now stretched out on the bed, oblivious to her surroundings, Marilyn turned to Marcie.

"Your turn, sweetness."

"Ohhh," the redhead managed to blurt before meeting Marilyn's fevered mouth with her own; exchanging saliva and when their lips finally parted it was Marcia who sucked the long spool of spit into her mouth as if it were the nectar of the Gods.

Marilyn slowly unbuttoned her billowy white blouse, revealing a filmy bra trimmed in fine lace. Marcie pressed her face into Marilyn's abundant breasts, murmuring, "I love you. I really love you."

"And you love Evie too, don't you?"

Pulling her head back, Marcie looked into Marilyn's limpid brown eyes. "Is that wrong?"

"No, sweetness, it's not wrong to love. It's never wrong to love someone. It's a wonderful thing . . . to be capable of loving anyone. And if you love more than one person at a time . . . well that's double the love isn't it?"

"When you put it that way . . . I guess it is."

"Now, want to play with my titties?"

"Oh, yeah, I love them. I can't tell you how much. I hope mine are nearly as big some day." Marilyn allowed her hand to graze across Marcie's young breasts, marveling at the smooth texture and the very pertness of her strawberry tipped buds.

"I think your titties will rival mine one day. I doubt Evie's will, although her titties will be much sought after, for many will consider her to be the perfect pair."

Wondering how she could know all this about their futures, Marcie could only respond with, "I hope so. I really, really hope so."

Marilyn rose up and deftly managed to free one breast from its cupped confines.

"Oops, look at that slippery thing, popped right out at you." She noted Marcie's eyes on the teat and how she licked her lips.

"I brought some champagne home. Would you care to share a glass with me?"

Marcie's eyes remained focused on Marilyn's exposed breast.

"I know what," Marilyn said coquettishly, and she began opening the champagne. It opened with a loud pop and the cork flew across the room as both women giggled shamelessly.

"Here..." And Marilyn sat down on her leather couch and poured some of the bubbly onto her breast. "... have a taste," and Marcie bent down and lapped at the champagne as it coursed down Marilyn's teat and into her abundant cleavage.

"Do tickle the nipple, my dear," she urged.

Marcie was already ahead of her, sucking on Marilyn's areola even as she freed the other breast from its confinement.

"I do love having my titties sucked," she told the young girl while she tousled the redhead's fiery locks.

"May I join in?" Evie asked politely while standing next to them.

"Of course you can," Marilyn replied. "But wait, I must give you some Champaign too. And reached out she grasped the bottle and poured a fair amount on each breast and began to laugh uproariously as both girls licked and sucked away on her magnificent breasts.

When the bottle had been emptied, Marilyn looked with some contempt at the empty vessel, then smiled broadly and leaned back, separating Marcie from her diligent nursing; Evie somehow managing to hang on the teat she had clenched in her teeth.

"Who wants some of my pussy?" Marilyn asked with a leer. Marcie was first to reply since her mouth was free.

"Me! I do!" she shouted and jumped up and down while Evie looked on with Marilyn's nipple rubbing against her cheek.

"Don't feel bad, Evie... I know, I'll lie back on the couch. Marcie, you get between my legs and do your thing. Evie get behind Marcie and eat her doggy-style."

Both girls seemed satisfied with this arrangement and shouted with glee when Marilyn added, "Of course after I come the first time you two can switch, how's that?"

*** Ann Stinson, Peggy's mother, had made her mind up. Simply stated, she craved sex. Ann had to have it. Her ex-husband had left her almost three years before and she had not had a man since he'd left. Not that she had had sex with him then either. It had been at least six months before they split up that she'd felt the blissful sensation of a nice cock burrowing between her legs.

'Two dates in all that time,' she thought, nervously biting a cuticle. 'Two god damned dates, if you could call them that. Karl Bodkins had scared the hell out of her as they left her driveway to have dinner. He'd asked if she liked whips and chains before asking what her favorite color was -- or anything about her. She had left him at the restaurant even before the meal was served, using a trip to the powder room to slip out and catch a cab home.

And three months later, Harvey Gagne had his hand up her dress before the credits were rolling at the movies. Ann smiled to herself. 'Well,' she told herself, 'I'm an accomplished escape artist; since the same tactics worked on him too.'

But now she wondered if she was being too selective, was it the lot of a divorcee to put out before a date -- make that as the first date was only starting?'

She placed another finger in her mouth and started to bite only to realize she had bitten it to the quick the day before.

"Damn it," she said aloud, "I'm 37 years old. I've got an 18 year old daughter and a 19 year old son and both of them are probably getting more than I am."

But as she pondered this it occurred to her that she had no idea if her two children were still virgins. She considered herself a good mother, but chastised herself for slacking off in her parental duties.

She was almost positive that Peggy was no longer a virgin and Davy... well Davy left traces of his semen everywhere. The sheets in his room smelled of cum so badly that she was forced to change them twice as often as she changed Peggy's and her own. The toilet had dried semen on the wall in front of the toilet as well as the floor up to three feet away.