This is the second installment of the story that begins with 'Bells'. It contains premarital, extra-marital, interracial, incestuous, oral, and anal sex with intimations of bisexuality. If you are offended by such goings-on, go read something else. However, if you enjoy this little fantasy, do please let me know. If you have suggestions for improvement in whatever next chapter there might be, I welcome them. My thanks go out to Istanbulnoir for editing this story's predecessor, to Varian P and MJL for advice and my especial thanks to those of you who made favorable noises about my previous efforts. And now, may I present . . .
Drums: The Gathering's Novices Advance
Victoria Smyth-Jefferson lay back on the sofa, her right hand idly stroking the front of her husband, Charles', Armani trousers. Without lifting his eyes from the law journal he was reading, Charles spread his knees to give her better access and continued to examine the review of his most recent case. There were numerous interesting aspects to it from the corporate law point of view and it had been, of course, satisfactorily remunerative.
Their interplay was interrupted by the ringing of the nearby telephone. Mrs. Smyth-Jefferson extended her other hand and lifted the phone off its cradle. When the caller ID showed that it was their daughter, Deserea, on the line Victoria smiled, activated the 'talk' function and answered, "Des, dearest, how are you? And how is the training coming?"
Deserea giggled in response, "Pretty good on both points, I think. Last night I was riding Mr. McAllister and Sonya timed me at a full 4 minute orgasm. They're both sure that I'll be over 10 minutes by the next Gathering. And my vaginal muscles are a lot stronger, even though I'm always sore. I can't jerk Mac off with them yet, though, so that may take another month."
Victoria burst out laughing. "Deserea, even I can't get him off that way. The only woman I know who can is Sonya and she has muscles like steel cables. Professional dancers get that way, you know. I'm willing to bet that any other man in the Gathering will happily succumb to your ministrations, probably several times before you tire. I must tell your father; he'll be so proud of you. And speaking of such things, I'm happy to announce that Justin nearly had his first double climax yesterday. I'm sure that he would have succeeded but it was such a surprise to him that he forgot to open his eyes when he came and filled the condom, instead. I'm giving him a night to recover and recharge but by the Gathering, I've no doubt that he'll be ready for you. Might I suggest that you have some lubricant near at hand? We wouldn't want to have you rubbed raw too early in the evening."
There was a long pause, as though the girl on the other end was getting up her courage for the next sentence. "Uh, mother, about Justin . . . you're all planning on marrying me to him, aren't you?" She wasn't sure whether to dread the expected answer or to swoon over it.
"Are we?" came the non-committal response. If Victoria hadn't had the foresight to marry the sharpest legal mind in the state, she could have made a fortune of her own at high-stakes poker. The silence thickened.
"Well . . . he and I are the only unmarried members of the Gathering, except for Master Harold, of course, and once we're both fully adept and ride the Wave together, we'll be in love, just like I am with all the rest of the men. It just seems logical, I think, but . . . "
"Does it?" Victoria was staying non-committal over the phone but her right hand was telling her that it wouldn't be too long before she would have to commit to something. Charles might appear to be engrossed in his reading but blood was rapidly flowing away from his brain and into a much more entertaining part of his anatomy, at least from his wife's point of view.
"Mother, you're playing with me!" Now Deserea was getting irritated. She wasn't sure whether she would be offended or relieved if her betrothal was real but she was definitely not happy about being kept in the dark. She had to admit, though, that the last time her mother had deliberately not told her what was going on, things had turned out wonderfully.
Her sexual initiation at the university had been so dismal that her parents had stepped in and introduced her to their Tantric Gathering. The result had exceeded her wildest and most erotic dreams. Men her father's age were multi-orgasmic, able to maintain their erections for hours and quite delighted to do so, especially inside of her. All the wives, including women she thought she knew, were equally lubricious and just as happy to engage each other as they were to delight the men, either individually or in groups. She especially remembered dancing to the ring of the belled jewelry they all wore. The men pounded their partners in a steady rhythm while Deserea danced and her high school English teacher was spit-roasted, mouth and ass, by her father and an enormously tall (and well-hung!) member of the Swedish consular staff. It had been quite an instructive night. "All right, Mother, if you're going to be coy I'll just hang up and go to bed!" Sometimes, it seemed, she could only hope that mothers really did know best.
Victoria hung up with a lazy, sensual smile on her face. Justin was in bed, as well, so she had all night and Charles all to herself. The possible son-in-law was fit, virile, extremely cute in a sandy-haired, freckly sort of way and, once multi-orgasmic, would make as fine a choice to sire grandchildren as any mother could want. The memories of his member inside her brought tingles to her womanhood. On the other hand, however much she might love her extended "family" her official husband was the real center of her life and now she was going to remind him of that. Unzipping the silk caftan she had put on after supper, she stood up, shrugged it off her shoulders and then dropped naked onto her knees before her man.
Feeling his wife slip off his Gucci loafers and socks, Mr. Smyth-Jefferson put a bookmark in his reading and slid his hips farther towards the edge of the sofa and closer to his beloved wife's lips. More important things than work were in the offing. She undid his belt, trouser button and zipper with practiced ease, hooked her fingers under the waistbands of both outer and underwear and with a quick tug whisked him into half-nakedness. His fat, proud phallus bounced up before her. Grasping it lovingly, she opened her mouth wide and slid her tongue down the underside while engulfing the head. Slow steady strokes with her right hand joined the suction and her eager tongue as she worked him into greater arousal and an even harder erection. Sucking and bobbing her head, running his cock against the inside of her cheeks and clear down her throat, Victoria next slid her left hand under Charles' scrotum and gave it a gentle squeeze then pushed farther under him, her long-nailed forefinger aimed naughtily at his anus. She heard him gasp as she rimmed him, considered attempting to insert her finger inside then thought better of the idea. The human rectum is tender and she definitely didn't want to spoil the mood by hurting him with her claws. Instead, she teased him with nibbles up and down the underside of his manhood and slow, firm pulls on his balls that stretched his scrotum and delayed his orgasm. She flicked her tongue quickly back and forth across the frenum underneath the dark head of his cock and smiled to herself at the resulting appreciative moan. Then, as Charles began deep breathing to work himself into a higher and yet higher state of arousal, his wife hummed and purred sending the vibrations up the nerves of his penis through his spine and finally to his brain where they exploded in the kind of dry orgasm all men of the Gathering were expert at.
Eventually, she released her grip and sat back on her heels. "Now!" she exclaimed laying her caftan over the Nakashima coffee table. She clambered up onto all fours, spread her knees wide and arched her back to push her swollen, bare labia and engorged clitoris out towards him. They glistened wetly with her juices. "Mmmmgrrreow!" she growled, watching him throw off the remnants of his clothing, take his saliva-covered cock in one hand, aim it home and with the other hand on her hip, thrust deep into her waiting love canal.
"Mmmmf!", came the simultaneous grunts. Victoria thought that there simply could not be a better feeling in the entire world than the fullness she got when penetrated. A hard man was, indeed, good to find. Even better was the thought that with her husband she could ignore the Gathering's strict conventions about safe sex and enjoy being ravished bareback. Tied tubes prevented any surprise additions to the family and allowed the luxurious slipping and slurping of flesh-on-flesh love.
Charles' dark belly slapped against her caramel butt. "Fill me, honey," she moaned "I want to drip and ooze when you're done." She began to pant as his pace increased, timing her arousal so that they would climax together. Quickies were rare in the Smyth-Jefferson household and the novelty of the idea made Charles tighten his grip on her hips to both pull and thrust ferociously in and out of her. The body-on-body slaps could have been heard clear up the stairs to where Justin slept if he had been awake. (And if he had been awake the sight of his possible in-laws mating might have inspired him to join in!) The primal, animal nature of their coupling overtook her control and Victoria screamed like a queen leopard when finally her husband sent jet after jet of semen deep within her. Slowly his spasms tapered off and her contractions eventually diminished. At last Charles leaned over onto his wife's back, kissed the nape of her neck and murmured "I love you, Vicky. I love you, I love you, I love you."
"Mmmm, and I love you back, Charles, more than life itself."
"Good grief, woman, I hope not!" Charles flopped back onto the couch. "It's bad enough poor Cynthia was left alone when Frank was killed in that horrible train wreck. The idea that she might commit suicide and leave Todd and Sheila for the grandparents to raise is simply not to be borne. No, don't ever say 'more than life itself; I'll be perfectly happy with 'more than any other man', thanks."
Victoria stretched out languorously on the coffee table, enjoying the warm, sticky trickle down her thighs. The caftan had survived getting cum-stained and washed before and would again. After all, she didn't want to drip out onto the polished walnut. "Deserea seems to be making great progress at the McAllisters," she announced to change the subject, "but she's getting a little suspicious about our long-term plans."
"Ya think?" snorted her husband, "You know, for an otherwise intelligent child she can be incredibly clueless. Does she sound upset?"
"Oh, you know Des," came the response. "She's such a 'youngest child'. The poor thing never knows what she wants until someone tells her. She knows what will happen next week and that marriage is the logical result. I don't think she sees it as the inevitable result, yet, but by the following Monday morning she'll be flashing her diamond to all the friends who are wondering where she's been for the last six weeks. I've already reserved St. Alban's and set a tentative date with the vicar. We might make some attempt to make her think it's her own idea but she can be so passive, at times."
"Well, the least we can do is let her do most of the planning and decide on the guest list. You know how young people can hate interference in their weddings." Charles squatted down and lifted his gooey wife off the coffee table. "Come, sloppy thing, its shower and bedtime for both of us. I've got to be in court in the morning."
And in the morning, breakfast was espresso, fresh juice, and hot croissants with coddled eggs all round. Justin, not yet twenty, naturally ate as much as his mentors combined. Then sticking to the routine laid out for him, he strode naked to the indoor pool and spent the next two hours swimming hard to the demanding drumbeat of the under water speakers. He then dried off and returned to Deserea's bedroom to dress for class. While the Smyth-Jefferson's daughter had attended only one semester at the university before dropping out, Justin remained in school, doggedly pursuing his goal of joining the law firm his father and Mr. Smyth-Jefferson had turned into the most respected, most powerful (and most expensive} in the tri-state area.
A bit later, he kissed Victoria respectfully on the cheek, mounted his gear bike and pedaled off to attend his mid-day classes. Gliding down the leafless oak tree-lined street, he mused on his current situation. Two months ago, his father had instructed him to begin a series of exercises designed to strengthen his pubococcygeus muscles. No explanation had been given but Justin, like Deserea, was a youngest child so he did what he was told. Then came that amazing evening when three gorgeous women, all nearly his mother's age, had thoroughly and enthusiastically relieved him of his virginity. The McAllisters and the Smyth-Jeffersons had then traded offspring until the next scheduled Gathering and Justin had found himself living in Des' entirely too feminine bedroom while being instructed in Tantric practices by her mother. Victoria had been quite firm about their relationship. She was to be his teacher, not his lover. Lovers, he was told, make every attempt to please each other and she was not trying to please him. Rather her goal was to help him learn the kind of control needed to really please any future lovers. Once that was accomplished, along with the ability to extend an orgasm to amazing lengths, their relationship might be up for re-examination.
What astonished Justin was that Charles Smyth-Jefferson was genuinely interested in his progress and eager to spend time coaching the younger man, even when said younger man was deep inside Charles' lusciously buxom wife. Something was going on, here, and Justin began to hope that somehow it had to do with Deserea.
By the time the two of them had come along, Justin had three older brothers and Deserea, two. The little law firm the immigrant Scot and the upwardly mobile African-American had started had blossomed. Both families acquired a life-style that was, if not actually opulent, then beyond extremely comfortable. The two men were very close friends as well as partners and their wives delighted in each other's company so their leisure times as well as their professional lives were spent together.
The youngest children were a different story. Justin's entire life had been quiet, introverted, and shy. A powerful athlete in the pool, he was a reserved but dogged scholar in the classroom while the Smyth-Jefferson's only daughter was academically brilliant but a complete social butterfly and drama queen. As a child she seemed to think she was the center of the world and that Justin's role in it was to entertain her. He withdrew even farther into himself when they entered middle school and hardly noticed when she was whisked off to an all-girls' Catholic high school in the eighth grade. Her return for their senior year made no impression on him whatever. Then came the night of their first Gathering!
On that night he suddenly found himself surrounded, kissed and caressed by nearly naked women and Justin went into shock. After all, one of them was his mother and another was her best friend, his godmother! When it was his turn to greet the beauteous Deserea, he was so stupefied that the required kiss missed her mouth completely and landed, humiliatingly, on her left eye. At that point she'd grabbed both his hands, placed them firmly on the cheeks of her ass, reached around his neck and plastered her naked breasts and thighs against him. They'd have probably have fucked right there in front of everyone, had Des had her way, but his mother intervened and led him off to be thoroughly worked over by ladies of experience.
With his increasing prowess, Justin was now sure that he could return those dear women's attentions, with interest. The question remained, where did Deserea fit into all this? Every other woman in the Gathering was someone's wife except Des and she had been placed off-limits, at least at the time. Were the both of them being kept as toys for the older couples? That seemed unlikely given the relationship their families had. The only probable outcome looked to be matrimony and the production of a number of honey-colored offspring. He knew that both mothers would be delighted with such a result but no one had ever mentioned the possibility, let alone asked if either he or Deserea were interested. And, frankly, he wasn't sure he wasn't. After all, Justin understood the concept of arranged marriage, though not in the context of 21st Century America, especially within the upper middle class of the Heartland. Something strange was going on, but he did have hopes.
On the other side of the prosperous neighborhood, Deserea was sitting on a mat in an "open lotus" position and starring at the mirror leaning against her heels. Reflected back at her was her own smooth, brown sex. Against all probability, it was flashing twice a second. The LED within her vaginal canal moved up and down in response to the contractions the girl was concentrating on so fiercely. The goal was the ability to slide down onto a man's solid erection and then to milk him to climax by muscle contractions alone. Neither rocking nor bouncing was permitted to the true adept, only the fluid grasp of the muscles moving up and down the shaft. Her mother's admission that she was unable to accomplish that goal on Angus McAllister was the goad that drove Deserea to greater efforts. Only the steel-muscled Sonya could bring him off? Deserea didn't think so! Before the next Gathering she was determined to either see the big Scot spasm under her or to faint in the attempt. Except . . . Angus wasn't really the McAllister she wanted.
In the weeks following her introduction to Tantra, Des had been prey to sneaky little guilt feelings regarding the youngest McAllister. Thinking back on their childhood, she remembered just how she had tormented him, getting away with it because he was too shy to complain. When she had returned to the public high school in her senior year, her social world simply didn't include Justin except as a photo on the wall of the natatorium with the long list of his records and victories underneath. The off-hand statement that they'd grown up together and that their families were close had garnered her lots of points with the other girls as they stared at the image of his rippling frame with unrequited lust. None of them ever got to touch him, or even talk to him. That was because he never talked to anyone except to ask for points of clarification in class and to say thank-you for the latest in his collection of medals and trophies. At the last Gathering, though, she had not only kissed him, she'd plastered her 99% naked body against his and felt his interested manhood swell up against her belly. Things could have gotten really exciting at that point but the adults had pried them apart and hadn't let the youngsters have so much as a good-bye kiss when, hours later, they were traded and sent to each other's homes. Now she couldn't get him out of her mind. It wasn't really 'love', she thought, or even sexual desire. After all, the elder McAllisters were making sure that she got all the bisexual riding she could stand, so it couldn't be that she was horny. She just wanted more of Justin. The only question was, how much more? And for that matter, why?
In the late afternoon, a showered and robed Justin and Victoria stood facing each other in the sunroom. Victoria regarded him fondly, quite sure that today he would break through the barrier that separated ejaculation from orgasm, man from superman. She stroked his cheek maternally and then proceeded to untie his robe to leave him standing naked and semi-erect before her. Stepping back, she smiled at his rising and reddening phallus and asked, "You swimmers all shave your arms, legs and chests. Why do you stop when you get to your Speedos? I think we should do something about that!"