Dexterous Dexter 02

After dining, we reluctantly donned jeans and sweatshirts. We not-so-reluctantly snuggled together around the campfire until it burnt down to embers. Then we stripped and jumped into the tent. Well, first we had shaken off the blankets, spread them on the tent floor, and covered them with opened sleeping bags. We had a nice cozy playpen there, just perfect for multiple fucks. The scent of poon-tang filled the air.

Wendy and Almy had just unrolled from another 69. Doreen lay by my side, idly fondling my flagging cock.

"What's the program for tomorrow, Dex?"

"How about this? We'll get up early, real early, an hour before sunrise. We'll dress, and pee, and drink enough wine to buzz. We'll stagger over to that dry wash and sit right in the middle of it. We'll sit there silently. We'll listen to the night creature heading in and the morning creatures heading out. We'll watch the hill-colors change as the sun rises. Then we'll come back and eat and wake up.

"After breakfast, we'll walk upstream a little ways. There are a few wet patches where desert orchids grow, and maybe we'll see some little frogs, although it may be too late in the year for them. Then we'll take an easy trail up to that notch. From there, we can see across the whole Pinto Basin. Then we'll come back to camp, and read and play and fuck, I guess."

"That all sounds good to me." "Me too," the others chorused. So it was unanimous.

Thanksgiving Thursday went as planned. To celebrate the holiday, we munched turkey jerky.

Friday was similar. We were getting good all-over tans with no unsightly lines. Groovy.

We worked on our tans some more on Saturday, until midday. Then things changed.

___

We had been listening to music on a portable radio, picking up Wolfman Jack on a border blaster out of Baja. Good old XERB, "50,000 watts of SOUL power over Los AN-ge-les" was the breathy slogan. The Wolfman's show ended and wailing ranchero music started playing. Wendy switched to an L.A. news station just in time for a weather alert. She relayed the sad forecast to us.

"Oh shit guys, a cold front is moving in, fast. We're gonna be FROZEN out here tonight. Maybe we should pack it in and go back."

"No way," Alma-Li protested. "I don't want to waste the rest of the weekend. Can we build a bigger fire?"

"I've got an idea," I said. "I know a decent cheap quiet motel that's off the main road. We can hole up there tonight, cruise around some scenery tomorrow, and get back at the time we planned."

My suggestion was accepted. We broke down the tent, packed our gear, tidied-up the site, and bumped down to pavement. The air was noticeably colder by then, so the convertible's top went up.

"Hey guys, it's too early yet to get a room. Let's go see some sights. Wendy, take the next left," I said as not-too-shy Almy groped my royal rod and sucked my tipsy nipples. I returned to fondling her.

"Fuck the sights, I want food and sex," Wendy shouted.

"Since I'm the only one here who knows where we're going, you'd better follow my directions. Otherwise, we could end up in Yuma. Go on, turn left up here."

Wendy grumbled but complied. We did get some spiffy views. And soon enough, we reached the motel I had remembered. DESERT STAR MOTEL - CLEAN ROOMS - HEATED POOLS read the sign. We got a 'family' room in back with two king-size and one single bed, a big table with several chairs, and a tiny black-and-white TV.

"So what are the food options around here?" Doreen asked.

"Well, we passed a good pasta place about ten miles back. I know the owner. He's actually Neapolitan Italian, and his wife is American Indian. They say their kids are a-WOP-a-hoes."

The girls all moaned and punched me.

"If we don't want to drive more than a mile, we have two choices. Pizza, eat-in or delivered, or Chinese, eat-in or take-out."

"Let's do Chinese take-out. Wendy, take me along and I'll order the good stuff," Alma-Li offered.

"Do you need to show me where this place is, Dex?" Wendy asked.

"Naw, just go back to the highway, turn left, and it's a couple hundred yards along."

The girls left Doreen and me at the room. Doreen snuggled up to me, batted her eyes, and stroked my cock.

"Hey sailor, want to show a lady a good time?"

"When I find a lady, I'll be sure to ask her."

"You rat bastard." She punched me, once, twice. Why are they always punching me? Is it something I said?

"Well, food will be here soon, and I've always heard that pussy, not hunger, is the best sauce, right?"

That is why Doreen was sitting on my soaked face and screaming with her third dripping-wet heartstopping monster orgasm when Wendy and Almy came in the door lugging a couple big bags filled with goodies.

"Starting in early on the appetizers, aren't you?"

"Eating in or eating out, whatever," I gasped.

We turned up the thermostat. We all got naked. We gathered at the table. We tucked in.

Almy produced a bottle of Chinese whiskey. "It always helps to know what to ask for."

We finished the food, sipped the whiskey, and adjourned to one of the king-size beds.

"What the hell is there to do around here besides eat and screw and sleep and screw?"

"There isn't a teen club within fifty miles, just some nasty redneck or grunt bars. This place right here is the best in the area. Come on, I'll show you. Better cover yourselves a little."

We mostly pulled on long sweatshirts. I led the girls out the room's back door, away from the parking area, into a little courtyard containing what looked like a big greenhouse filled with fog under the cold star-bright sky.

"See, there are two swimming pools here in glass enclosures. The big one out front is pretty public. This little back here can only easily be reached from the four rooms on the courtyard. This pool is nicely heated, and the cold air makes it condense into fog. We can get lost in the mist inside there."

I opened the glass door and peeked inside.

"I didn't see any cars by these four rooms, and nobody's inside here. We could have this all to ourselves. Let's grab out towels and jump in!"

Our naked bodies were just dim silhouettes in the cloudy interior as we moved around the pool. A few minutes later, the glass door opened and a young couple in swimwear walked in.

"Hi there. Oh wait, is this the clothing-optional pool? Are we disturbing you guys?"

"No problem. Get naked and join us."

We introduced ourselves. The newcomers were blond Jon and redheaded Deanna, juniors at UCLA, astronomy majors and cyclists. They were impressed with our Clarion connection. They sat naked at the pool's edge, feet in the water. They both seemed rather aroused by what they saw of us moving around.

Wendy swam over to Jon. "Hey, nice cock. Mind if I suck it?"

Jon looked at Deanna. She shrugged. "Sure, that'd be nice."

Doreen swam in front of Deanna. "Nice pussy! OK if I eat it?"

Jon and Deanna both twitched a little. Deanna nodded slightly.

I looked at Alma-Li. "It's just you and me now, baby." She smiled.

Before long, we were all fucking and sucking and slurping and grunting and shouting, in various and shifting combinations, sort of like Wendy's hot-tub parties but without the camera. Good thing the motel night manager didn't walk in on us. Or too bad for him, maybe.

We invited Jon and Deanna into our room that night. Almy and Doreen joined Jon on one bed while I had the great pleasure of entertaining Wendy and Deanna. Deanna's pussy was so tasty that Wendy and I spent what seemed like hours tonguing her, licking around her lips, probing her vagina, while Deanna orgasmed continuously. We all fell asleep eventually, somehow.

In the cold morning light, the pool's fog looked even thicker and more mysterious. We felt like we were swimming inside a mystic marshmallow. We stayed as long as we could. Checkout time from cloud-cuckoo-land was noon. We departed regretfully, and made our way back over Whitewater Pass and down to sluburbia.

___

The Thanksgiving-to-Christmas 1971 season was eventful for the Piedmont HS community.

We recorded Miss Tompkins and others in more hot-tub orgies. Stefan got a full basketball scholarship to USC, and Doreen got a full ride to Columbia for journalism. I won a couple photo competitions. Wendy's mom gave her the Mustang as a pre-Xmas gift. Identical twin brothers Fred and Ted hooked up with identical twin sisters Sandy and Mandy, all polymorphously perverse. Could they always tell just who was fucking whom?

Simmons was arrested and expelled for assaulting two sophomore girls and the boy who tried to protect them. The trial judge offered Simmons a choice: prison or the Army. He took the Army. After basic training, he deserted and tried to flee to Canada. He was caught. He did hard time in Leavenworth. Ha.

Then, the terrible news. Marissa's beloved big brother Mel, who was drafted after he graduated the year before, was killed in VietNam. Marissa and her folks were devastated. Marissa collapsed, nearly a full breakdown. She was ready to quit school, to quit life. The world no longer made any sense to her.

Wendy's next hot-tub party was for Marissa. Stefan and Kirk and Alma-Li and I nearly kidnapped her, forced her to come. All her closest friends were there. There was no sex. We all just held Marissa, talked to her, tried to comfort her. We told her how much we loved her, that she needed to go on with her life and make her family proud, make us all proud, to honor her brother's memory. We all cried through the night.

Juliana joined us. She told Marissa what she had gone through when she lost her father and two brothers to banditos. She told her that life is a terminal illness, and it has no place for quitters. She refused to cry. She kissed Marissa hard, repeatedly, telling her, "You WILL make it through this, chica."

Mel was given a military funeral at a local cemetery. The site overflowed. Loudspeakers were needed to project the service. Over 3000 people attended: the entire Piedmont HS faculty, almost the entire student body and their families, and everybody else who had ever known Mel and his family. Many of those 3000+ hugged Marissa and her folks and expressed their sorrow and love.

Marissa was overwhelmed by the compassion. She pulled herself together, felt herself a part of the world again, MADE herself a part of the world. She threw herself back into life, pouring a supernova of energy and passion into her cello work. And she got a full scholarship to Julliard. Later in life, she became a noted composer and conductor. Her SURVIVAL SYMPHONY won a Pulitzer Prize.

___

Marissa didn't join our year's-end excursion. Others had to miss it too.

School was out for the holidays. Slinky brunette Lindsay had an older kissin' cousin near Palm Springs with a swimming pool, fully stocked beer and soda cooler, extra bedrooms, and a closet full of sex toys. We were invited. Without needing camp gear, three people could be squeezed into the Mustang's back seat: Lindsay, Kirk and Doreen. Wendy and I sat up front and laughed at their antics and gyrations.

We left early on the day after Christmas. We stopped in Cabazon, but the brontosaurus gift shop was busy, so no dino-fucks happened there then. We drove up Palm Canyon to look at the springs. Well, actually to fuck around, right? Then we descended on the cousin.

It was a warm December. Mornings, we skinny-dipped; elevation, around 10 feet above sea level. Afternoons, we rode the aerial tram up Mt San Jacinto and played in the snow; elevation, about 10,000 feet. Evenings, we were back in the pool, sky-clad. This is probably the only place on Earth where this could happen.

It wasn't all sex, drugs, booze, and rock'n'roll. Mid-term exams loomed, so much of our naked poolside time was spent studying. Studying books, I mean, not just each other's bodies. The cousin and friends joined us in the pool a lot, and for some nightlife. A couple nights of dancing; a couple nights of chamber concerts; some hot nights of hardcore sex. On New Year's Eve, we all joined the crowds for the fireworks blast. By mid-afternoon of January First 1972, it was time to head back to the 'burbs.

We survived mid-terms. We survived the winter-spring flash floods, and the grunion run, and most of Wendy's parties.

I still had my family chores and my own activities. I still rode my motorbike for stints at Grampa's shop, sometimes with curvaceous Alma-Li as a passenger. I still worked with the Morris Dance group, re-enacting Old English rituals. I still wailed on my bamboo sax. But I never bought that Arabian bagpipe. And I still went hunting for fresh pussy.

Can you guess my most productive pickup line? Yeah, the one about incest, and "Will you be my sister?"

The Morris Dance group was playing a Spring Celtic Festival in a hilly oak parkland. I pitched my new Sierra tent with a vestibule for privacy and a pile of blankets inside for padding. Jenny the fife-player had moved on. I was looking for company. I found two lovely tall redheads dressed as Irish colleens, in long low-cut linen gowns -- with nothing underneath.

"Care for some ale, my fair ladies?" I asked, passing a jug of Lancers wine.

"Why, thank you, kind sir," said Caitlin. "Yummy -- gimmee," said Deidre.

"Perhaps you'd also like a puff from my briar," I said, lighting my hash pipe.

Eager lips pursed for me. I sat down between them on their park-table bench. We puffed, drank, chatted, touched hands occasionally, consumed more of the mood-altering substances, touched some more. Just some harmless flirting, right?

"Forgive me if I seem too bold, my ladies, but please to tell me: what think ye of incest?"

Deidre giggled. Caitlin answered, "'Tis a weighty question, but I consider it traditional."

Deidre giggled again and said, "Yeah, it's been going on for a long time, a million years."

"Ah then, fair ladies, please give me a true and comely response: Will you be my sisters?"

Deidre giggled yet again. Caitlin said, "You're pretty slick, guy. Do you fuck your sisters?"

"I will if thou will allow it, oh gentle maids." I held my hands lightly to their cheeks.

Deidre nipped at my hand, then started chewing my palm. Caitlin kissed my thumb.

"And just where might the joys of brotherhood and sisterhood be shared?" Caitlin asked.

I stood, put the bottle and pipe in my felt shoulder pouch, and took their hands in mine.

"Come, my dears, my manor house is not far," I said, leading them on to their happy doom.

We scrunched into my tent and quickly discarded our garments. I sat back, slipped off my boots, pulled my tunic off none too hastily, raised my butt, slid my drawers down my legs and off, and settled on my knees.

Caitlin was also on her knees, her gown pulled up to her thighs. I put my hands on her bottom hem and raised the gown higher, revealing her muff and navel. She raised her arms and I slipped the gown over her shoulders and head, and off. Her glorious breasts were round and firm and pale with dark aureoles and hard anxious nipples.

Caitlin and I regarded each other. We both turned to Deidre, sitting cross-legged on the blankets with her gown pulled to her waist, her pussy flaring. We each took a side of her gown and raised it off her body and over her head. Deidre was a bit shorter, her breasts slightly smaller, more uplifted, perkier. She giggled again, longer, lower.

I reached for a water bottle and some washcloths.

"Shall we perform our ritual ablutions?" I poured water onto one cloth and wiped off my armpits and groin, taking care to clean my cock well, then tossed the cloth into the tent vestibule. I handed over the bottle and cloths. Deidre and Caitlin followed my lead, giving their pubes deep, sensuous rubdowns, Deidre giggling all the while. We costumed folk *had* worked up a bit of a sweat, after all.

Naked, we sat up together, our eyeballs devouring our anatomies. I bent to Caitlin, kissed her lips, her eyes, her lips again. I kissed Deidre, who giggled. I touched their necks, their shoulders, their throats, their breasts. They touched me back.

I moved closer to Caitlin. I put my knee between hers, forcing her thighs a bit wider. I held her head, kissed her mouth. Our tongues barely touched. I kissed around her face, and then to the spot at the junction of neck and shoulders that stimulates ovulation. My hands slipped down her shoulders to cup her firm ripe breasts as her nipples hardened in my palms. I held her there for a while as she squirmed.

I backed off from Caitlin and turned to cross-legged Deidre whose pussy was spread, her labial lips puffy and wet. Deidre grabbed my head, pulled my mouth to hers, swallowed my tongue, and forced my hands to her volcanic breasts. She reached down for my cock, stroked and jacked it to full hardness.

As I kissed and fondled Deidre, Caitlin rubbed my shoulders and chest and thighs. She pulled me away from Deidre, forced us to lie down with me atop her, our mouths together. I moved my body between her legs, my head down to her breasts, working my tongue around her puffing aureoles and onto her juicy nipples.

Deidre was leaning close to us.

"Sisters and brothers should help each other, should they not?" I asked Deidre.

She nodded, "Um, yeah, sure."

"Then I beg your assistance here," I said, pulling her mouth to Caitlin's other breast.

Deidre eagerly mouthed Caitlin's tantalizing tits. I suspected this wasn't her first time. Caitlin groaned, and louder, as my hand brushed across her vulva. I teased her nether lips, slowly slid up and down her slinky slit, then probed into her already-wet tunnel.

"Oh fuck yeah," Caitlin groaned, as my finger slid and out of her hole.

"Oh shit oh shit oh oh..." she whispered as my thumb brushed her clit.

"Ungh oh shit oh fuck oh OH..." she moaned, her clit between my fingers.

I slid down her body, pulled my hand away, and replaced it with my mouth. I looked up to see Deidre mouthing and fingering both of Caitlin's breasts, then moved to kiss her face deeply while tweaking her nipples. Caitlin thrashed as I wrote mystic alphabets on her pussy, punctuated by deep tongue-thrusts into her abyss.

My fingers followed my tongue in, and then squeezed her clit. Caitlin came, and came, and came, her back arching like a bow, her screams disappearing down Deidre's throat. She fell limp.

Deidre spun to me. "Hot damn, you're good at that! Where's mine?"

Deidre crawled down my body, inhaled my cock, dropped her pussy onto my mouth, and wiggled. I shifted my jaw, pushed my nose into her dripping cunt, and tongued her clit while she vacuumed my turgid tool down her throat. I wasn't near the edge when she came, flooding my mouth, but I sure was happy with all her juicy lips, and her perfect breasts compressed against my belly.

Deidre rolled off me and regarded my still-hard cock's vertical rise.

"Hey Caitlin, this guy looks like he's up for more. You want some?"

Caitlin rolled atop me, sat up, held her cunt over my straining cock, lowered herself down quickly, smoothly, and whispered, "Holy mother of god, oh shit, oh shit..."

Caitlin moved herself up and down, and faster, harder. My pubes rose to meet her. She cursed soon, going motionless but for her cunt-spasms and seeping juices. She sat awhile with her eyes closed, my hands on her breasts as she slumped forward. Then she fell over beside me.

Deidre was quick to take her place riding me cowgirl-style. We galloped awhile; then she rolled with me still inside her and moved us as missionaries.

"Fuck me, you evil bastard! Fuck me hard!"

And we did fuck, hard. And she did cum, hard. And I did cum, flowing, pouring a Niagara of semen into her. Deidre wrapped me in her arms and legs, suffocated me with her kisses, dragged me deep into her body.

Caitlin watched us, then rubbed Deidre's shoulder.