A Model Garden - La Petite Morte

My breath caught as I saw the expression on his face.

There could be no doubt. He knew. With that male hunting instinct perfected over a hundred thousand generations, he knew how I felt. There was no room for social fencing now, would never be again. Pretenses had been left behind, upside-down in the ditch, wheels still turning.

I knew that. It was an intellectual certainty.

That didn't stop my lifelong shyness from making one more effort and, ready as I was, eager as I felt, I also felt as awkward, graceless and inept as I had ever been. For some reason, I needed him to make the next move.

"I'll help you make your bed..." I stammered, anything to cover my confusion. I turned, started to walk to the bedroom, stopped as a large finger hooked into my blouse collar in back.

No, I didn't feel afraid. There was nothing rough or demanding about the gesture and I knew he'd release me at my first whisper. Standing in place, I turned. His finger stayed inside my collar, its nail tracing over my skin as my blouse shifted under his finger.

When I was facing him again, I stood, shaking with a blend of nervousness and need.

His hand pulled away from my collar, caught me gently by the chin and lifted my face up. He had the most compassionate look on his face. I suddenly found it hard to breathe.

His thumb stroked one side of my jaw, ever so gently, as if comforting a frightened kitten.

"If that's what you want, Tammy," he whispered. Those soft brown eyes seemed to expand, to fill my world. I felt myself sinking into them.

It may have been only a moment; it might have been ten seconds we stood there like that, then his hand left my chin. His soft forefinger slid over my neck, drifted over my blouse along my collarbone. He paused very briefly, then his finger again slid into my blouse. His eyes still locked on mine, his hand shifted and I gasped slightly as the top button of my blouse opened. I was startled but hardly upset. I had, after all, been dreaming of those big, gentle hands doing just that.

Half a second, half a century later, without my thinking, my lips parted as the second button fell open.

I tried to talk, so say something - anything.

The third button opened.

I found my voice.

"Ty..." I whispered, my eyes dropping.

His hand left my blouse, rose to again gently lift my chin so that our eyes met.

"Should I stop?" His voice was gentleness incarnate and I felt it resonate deep within me.

Somehow my answer — the only possible answer — got stuck in my throat. I coughed lightly, managed to speak.

"No."

Suddenly, what I wanted more than anything was to be in his arms, skin against skin. Yes, sex. But right now, what I needed most of all was his his wordless acceptance, his male approval, his body against mine.

With that, I realized this had become more than what we women had originally intended. For me at least, this was now about more than that wonderful penis, more than Ty's ability make me shudder with joy.

Widowed for two years, it had been too long since I'd just been held, held as a desirable woman, felt the comfort of a man's arms around me.

'No," I repeated.

Another button, then another and I shifted my shoulders and the blouse was flowing off my arms, magic fingers had found my bra catch and I'd unzipped my skirt and, wearing only pale-yellow bikini panties, was pressing my body against his, dizzy with his warmth and smell and the feel of those massive arms around me, pulling me gently but irresistibly into him.

My head resting on his hard chest, I could feel his breathing, hear his soft heartbeats. My hands began to run up and down his back as we stood, calm for a moment.

He shifted and I felt his length against my tummy. Giggling, I shifted myself, rolled it between us, felt a tautness in my thighs, felt my ladylips swell. I rolled it again and laughed to hear his breath catch. I could sense his desire, real and solid as that redoubtable organ, almost matching my own.

Then his lips were on mine, eager and patient, needing and giving, full of love and of lust and my tongue found his, swirled in that ages-old dance of delighted, demanding welcome. One broad hand squeezed my bum and the other cupped a boob. Unable to speak, scarcely able to breath, I lowered my hands, found his penis, rolled its spongy head with my thumbs. He pinched a nipple softly; I gave a low cry, my teeth seizing his lower lip and he'd caught me by the waist, lifted me effortlessly, turning, pressing my back against the wall. My legs went up of their own volition, spreading, rising and strong, knowing fingers found my panties and, not bothering to pull them down, simply pushed them aside as his swollen cockhead, guided by my eager-fingered hand, found my warmth.

I gave a small cry as he lowered me onto him, filling me, completing me, stretching my walls with man and with love and I bit my hand to hold in my cries as he began to hammer into me, pounding me up against the wall. My heels locked behind him, pulled him in stronger with each lunge and the heat turned to the brightest liquid joy as waves of pleasure swept through me, growing, pulsing higher and higher as he continued to drive into me, harder now, faster and he was suddenly motionless, heavy chest pressing me against the wall so that I could hardly breathe and loving every second as he emptied himself into me, long fingers gently brushing away my tears of happiness.

+

Gale

I was sitting on the basement sofa when Heather and Quinn knocked gently on the door-frame outside.

On silent feet, I tiptoed to the door, waved them inside, held my finger to my mouth in warning.

"Tammy's up with the children," I whispered, "and Ty's sleeping." A gentle snore came through the bedroom door and I winked at them.

.

Heather

"Wore him out, did she?" Quinn snickered, her grin matching my own.

"I guess," Gale grinned back. "I heard the water running in the shower down here and her hair was wet when she got upstairs.

"She asked me to wait for you two and to give you a message."

"Message?"

Gale smiled, calm and daring both. Her arms came around us two, pulled us in for a strong three-way hug.

Her lips bent to Quinn's in a soft, lingering kiss. I hadn't anticipated that, certainly not from Gale, but I found myself smiling as the blonde's eyes went soft and she began kissing back.

"Thank you," Gale whispered as she pulled away from Quinn. She grinned, added, "Message ends."

I giggled, felt Gale's hand tighten on my waist and found myself kissing her in my turn, endless and timeless and surprisingly delightful. My heart was hammering when she broke away with a whispered, "Thank you, too, Heather."

This was new. We were old friends, had held hands, hugged and kissed in greeting, in support, in happiness. But not this. Not before.

"Message passed," she added, releasing the pressure of her hug.

"She really said that?" I asked.

"Yup." Her nod was solemn, but I could see her eyes sparkle.

I was feeling very quivery for some reason and sat down.

"So, what happens now?" Quinn asked. She sounded uncertain, something utterly foreign to her, at least in my experience. She was a bit flushed; I suspected Gale's kisses had caught her off-guard, too.

Gale looked about, found her purse on a stack of moving boxes. She chuckled knowingly.

"Well, if you're still here in the morning, come over for coffee. Meanwhile, Mama needs her sleep."

And with that, she was gone, leaving Quinn and I wide-eyed and just a wee bit apprehensive.

.

Quinn

"I think I need a drink," I said, half to myself.

"I'll join you," Heather replied. For some reason, she wasn't meeting my eyes.

There was a bottle of red wine on a counter. I held it up in Heather's direction and she nodded.

I looked around, found some tumblers in a kitchen cupboard and poured a couple of healthy doses. She took hers gratefully. I moved a suitcase off a chair opposite her and sat down, too.

We sat there in silence for a moment, looking at our drinks.

"That Gale," she whispered eventually.

I looked up at her. There was a gentle smile on her face.

"Do you think Tammy really meant her to...?" I stumbled, stopped.

She giggled, finally met my gaze.

"I doubt it. That's not Tammy's style. I mean, yes to the basic message maybe, but..."

Both of us were giggling now. Watching her, I felt my stomach tighten, just a little. Yes, Heather was super-pretty. Attract-ive,  as it is supposed to mean. And we'd been together in a Tyson-centric puppy pile just days before. She was lovely and lively in a lot of ways and I found myself wondering...

For the look in her eyes, she was, too.

"So," she said, turning away, flushing slightly, "about tomorrow morning?"

"Gale makes good coffee," I replied.

She rose, opened the bedroom door a crack and peered in. I joined her. Tyson was sound asleep in the middle of the bed, his hands on his chest.

I closed the door softly.

"I want to be here tomorrow morning," I said softly.

She nodded and felt myself becoming entangled in her eyes.

"Me, too. And...?"

"It's a big bed," I smiled.

I saw her glance at her watch.

"It's late," I said, waited for her reaction. This was all new ground for me - for us.

"You don't mind?" Her voice barely audible.

.

Heather

Her eyes rose slowly, locked onto mine. There was an sudden odd smile on her face, almost challenging, bold even for Quinn.

Her arms dropped, crossed at her waist and, hands on the hem of her blouse, she lifted it up and off. She turned as it came off her head and, back to me, folded the blouse and laid it on a chair. A moment later, both hands reached around her back, unfastened her bra. A slightly shake of her shoulders and it fell off, to be dropped lightly on her blouse.

Her hands lifted to her waist, thumbs slid into her elastic waistband and pushed both slacks and panties down her legs. Shocked, awestruck, I admired that firm bottom, slim waist as she bent, picked up the garments and put them with the others.

Bare now but for a thin gold necklace, she turned towards me, not bothering to try to cover her nudity with her hands. Her eyes bold now, her hand came up, briefly touched my cheek, then swept around to behind my neck, pulled my ear to her lips. I jumped as her tongue tip dipped into my ear.

"Not unless you do," she whispered before releasing my head and stepping away. Her smile had turned positively wicked.

She turned and walked quietly to the door. She opened it half-way, then paused and looked over her shoulder.

"Not unless you do," she repeated.

The door closed quietly behind her.

.

Heather

I stood there for a moment. This day had not  unfolded as I had planned.

I caught sight of myself on a wall-mounted mirror. Instinctively, I ran my hand through my hair, shook it out.

Who was I? Did I have any boundaries left at all?

I smiled tentatively, turned back and forth in the mirror, pulled my shoulders back.

It was a day full of potential, of opportunity perhaps.

Opportunity. I could live with 'opportunity'.

.

Quinn

I wasn't entirely sure Heather would join me - us, I mean, Tyson and me. Then a crack of light showed as the door opened and her bare, delicious form was silhouetted as she entered. She half-turned and I admired the shape of her full breasts. Door closed, she stood quite still, apparently letting her eyes adjust to the dark.

"Quinn?" she whispered.

"Here," I replied softly. "On the near side of the bed. But I'll come."

"No. You don't have to..."

Her words were cut off as my searching hand found her arm, squeezed softly. It was totally dark and I wondered at how she would take this.

"I'll guide you," I whispered. "Two steps forward." My hand slid into hers, pulled gently.

.

Heather

I suddenly was aware of her perfume and felt myself shiver, deep, deep inside.

What was I doing here?

I took two tentative steps in the darkness, felt Quinn stop and turn to face me. Her hand pulled away and I gasped softly as both her hands found my upper arms.

They swept along my arms to my waist, grasped firmly, pulled us together. I felt the sweet warmth of her breath on my chin, then I could sense her rise on tiptoe, her lips touching my chin.

"Heather?" Her whisper was liquid in the blackness, soft and gentle, redolent with patience and promise.

'Opportunity', indeed!

I lowered my head, let her lips find mine, opened to her tongue, kissed back. I was surprised to feel her  shiver.

"Hi."

"Hi back. Look, Quinn, I..."

"Hush." She paused, hesitation in her own voice. "I know. Me either. But..."

Hesitation, yes, but also trust. I had to keep that in mind.

My heart pounded as she leaned into me, bareness against bareness. Her arms shifted, came to rest on my own bottom. I was surprised at how good it felt, let the time drift by, felt my heart slow down to mere thundering.

She giggled; I joined her as she wiggled against me a little. I found the sensation of her breasts against mine not so much exciting as somehow fitting, pleasing.

I squirmed as a soft hand squeezed one of my bum cheeks.

OK. I could handle a little excitement, too.

"What about...?"

We both froze for a second, smiled a the sound of a gentle snore. The boy was still sleeping.

Quinn's hand patted my bottom once before her arms released me and she stepped away.

"But you're right," she said in a low voice. "We all need some sleep."

She giggled.

"Especially you and me for when he wakes up."

I giggled, too. I love surprises and this one seemed pretty good.

.

Quinn

I slid out from between Heather and the bed, felt my way around to the other side, fumbled for the sheet and eased myself into bed. Tyson's warmth glowed against my skin. He shifted, rolled away from me to sleep on his side.

That was OK, too. I love spooning. I snuggled up against his back, reached up over his waist and was hardly surprised to find Heather's hand waiting for me. Fingers laced together in the darkness, a small squeeze and I was finding the day had left me totally drained. I slid down that soft, downy slope and was asleep almost immediately.

+

Heather

I woke when Tyson shifted suddenly beside me. I opened my eyes, found he was lying on his back; I was curled against him, the faintest pink light of promised sunrise just visible around the edges of the curtains.

That magnificent torso shifted again and I heard him mutter something in a sleepy voice.

There was a low pop!  in the room, then something poked my foot and Quinn's voice hissed at me.

"A little help here, Heather?"

Sleepily, I rubbed my eyes, raised myself on one elbow to behold a tousle-haired Quinn lying between the boy's outstretched legs, her eyes bright, her hands around Tyson's erect organ, her tongue running slowly up its length.

Tyson started to shift again, come up on his own elbows.

"Hey!"

"So kiss him, dummy!" Quinn again hissed. I saw Tyson's eyes flip to me, wide in the dim light. His expression was a mix of pleasure and confusion.

This was something I could do. I moved up, leaned over, found his lips with mine, gave a quick nibble, pulled back.

"G'morning, Ty," I whispered, then bent again to his lips. To my delight, they opened to mine, his tongue exploring cautiously. He sank back to the mattress and I felt a big hand grasp my head, pull me into him. His other hand began running over my shoulder and back. I normally find it hard to get turned on right after waking up, but between the sounds of Quinn's active oral efforts, Tyson's kisses and caresses and his manly scent, I found myself rapidly getting into this scene.

I felt the bed rocking, rapid small shifts. Looking down, I saw a flying mane of golden hair as Quinn's head, her cheeks hollow, bobbed up and down over his cock. Tyson took a sudden deep breath, his body stiffened, then Quinn slowed, he relaxed and the breath eased slowly out between his lips.

I began to run my hand over his arm and chest, drifting soft fingertips and quick, light fingernails.

I swirled my tongue around his mouth, swept between teeth and lips, then gasped slightly as he freed a hand, slid it between us, found a boob and zeroed in on a nipple already stiff and welcoming.

Out of sight, I could hear Quinn getting more vocal - loud sucking sounds and small muffled cries and grunts of what sounded like real enjoyment. Beneath me, Tyson's breathing grew more ragged. His hands on me slowed, paused, restarted. His booming pulse was very rapid. Those big brown eyes stared at me, closed tightly and his entire body became rigid, shaking then with the force of his orgasm. I leaned down onto him, my mouth sucking at his lips and tongue, my hand gently pinching one of his nipples. I could feel his heart pounding even through all that muscle.

The boy quivered, moaned, fell so limp as to seem dead for an instant. La petite morte,  I'd heard it called, 'the little death'. How appropriate.

Quinn's petite form slid up the bed, smiling softly, pulled against him, her head on his shoulder. Her eyes sparkled as she raised her hand towards me. I slapped it with my own palm in salute, saw Tyson open his eyes at the sound.

"So," she giggled. "How does it feel to be 'claimed', Tyson?"

We had warned him of the consequences of falling into our hands. Toys will  be played with...

His only response was a soft, sleepy chuckle, but Quinn's soft, happy laughter was matched by mine.

.

Quinn

I watched Heather's eyes across his chest, bounced my eyebrows at her impishly and nodded my head in the direction of the big man's feet.

Lots of life still left in him, girl!

.

Heather

I raised my head off his shoulder, looked down Tyson's body, over those massive pecs, those sharply-defined abs. His length, softened somewhat, lay on his stomach. My eyes darted back to hers, saw the affirming twinkle in them. Her arm came up, a forefinger pointed at me, swivelled down to the boy's sex, then back to me.

I doubted I could match what had obviously been a stellar oral performance on Quinn's part, but trailed my hand slowly down his body. I couldn't quite reach the whole thing, but its head seemed to almost filled my hand and I rolled it gently, squeezed softly, swept it with my thumb.

Tyson twitched a bit in surprise at the sensation. His eyes opened, turned to mine.

'Hey. Um, Heather?"

I grinned, shifted my eyes to Quinn.

"He's noisy this morning, girl. Think you can do something about that?"

She rolled onto one elbow, watched me teasing. Her eyes opened wider as she saw his cock twitch, swell into hardness again.

"I guess," she grinned.

Her blonde bob hid her face as she moved her head over his chest. From time to time, she lifted away and I could see her broad tongue sweeping over his shaven skin, perfect teeth nip his flat nipples.

I lifted myself, knelt by Tyson's knee. His manhood was stiff now, its head standing proud of his abdomen.

I reached down, circled his warm hardness just under the taut mushroom rim with my thumb and forefinger. They barely met. Tyson's head rose, fell back.

A knot formed deep within me, began to slowly twist as I watched his hand on Quinn's breasts, her soft flesh flowing under his palm as he moved from one to the other.

I knelt astride his legs. His laden balls had fallen down out of sight between his thighs; I pulled them back up, began rolling them gently with one hand. My other hand began pumping his soft skin up and down along his rigid shaft - five rapid, swift pumps, then a slow circle around his rim with my thumb, then back to pumping. Over and over, faster now.