Gesso Pt. 03

Note to Readers: This series concerns the adventures of a friend of ours. It's been embellished and fictionalized, partly by her as she told it, and partly by me. I have her permission to repeat it.

*****

"So," I ask, as we get safely on the road, and I reach to Carl's crotch and pull his dick out. It springs to life immediately, and I want to suck it, but it will have to settle for an affectionate massage for a while. "Do you want to fuck Joanne?"

"What?" His surprise is genuine.

"She wants to fuck you. She told me!" I answer to his doubtful expression. "Of course she wants to fuck you. Every sexy woman wants to fuck you."

"Yeah, right!" He grumps. Not like that's been my experience. Only one sexy woman ever wanted to fuck me."

"Oh, sweetheart, you just have no idea. I used to think that about myself too, by the way. You just need to learn how to play the game. You've come a long way, baby, but you still have a way to go. You'd be surprised at how many women would love to feel this cock."

"Ok, so she told you, but what would Joe say?"

"You can relax. Joe definitely does not want to fuck you," I smirked.

"Well that's a comfort!" Carl grunts. "You know what I mean. How would he feel about me fucking his wife?"

"You've talked to them, you know how they are. They're swingers. They love to fuck. They love to fuck other people. Believe me Carl, for somebody like Jo, you're a real prize. And it would really turn her on if you were to fuck Joe's cum out of her pussy, like you do Taylor's with me."

"Wow," he says, and I feel his cock shudder under my fingers. "That would be fun."

"Would you like me to watch?" I ask huskily. "I would want to watch."

"Damn, of course. You could do more than that."

"I was hoping you'd say so. What if you were to watch Joe fuck me and then you fucked his fresh cum out of my wet dripping cunt?"

Carl's cock leaps in my hand, and I squeeze it tight.

"I've got Joanne's number. I'll call if you want to set something up."

"Uh, yeah," He gasps.

That night is fantastic. I have the strong desire to take charge, just like in our early, training days. But now I'm stronger, tougher, longer lasting, and ready to be a little rough. I've had two good fucks and several wonderful orgasms today, but I'm not done. We shower and go straight to bed. There's no getting under the covers, the night is much too warm, and I'm wanting to heat things up even more. I push him onto his back and climb up over his face, lowering my clit to his lips and grinding back and forth. His tongue responds perfectly. I lift a little and make contact between my clit and the tip of his nose, while he extends his tongue as far as he can to reach my very wet entrance.

I lower my labia back down to his lips, wiggling around to make sure they cover every part of my pubes and pudenda. I love us being shaved, the skin to skin, the tongue and lip to skin, is almost more than I can take. It is more than I can take for long. In only a few minutes a grunting orgasm comes rolling up my body, from clit to scalp. I lift up to catch my breath.

When I lower back down again, he does exactly what I'd just consciously wished for him to do, what I was just opening my mouth to demand that he do. He reaches up those strong arms of his, grabs my tits, and squeezes each nipple. An electric shock runs through my body, like a collision between the sensations arriving from pussy and breasts. The second orgasm hits suddenly, much faster than I expected. I have to lift up again, but this time I move down along his body, and impale myself on the rocket cock.

I'm not gentle, I want it, I want to plunge my weight down on it. I'm gasping for breath, I can barely talk. But I do.

"Do you want Joe's cum splashing out of my cunt every time I slam down on your fucking horny cock?" I pant heavily. Carl's hips buck upwards underneath me, and he grunts with excitement. "Do you want to watch Joe fuck me and fill me with his hot seed while you fuck his wife?" More grunts, more bucking.

The talk turns me on as much as it does Carl, and another intense orgasm washes from behind my eyeballs, as I roll them upwards in involuntary facial spasms that synchronize with those of my pussy. I can't even begin to describe the sounds I make.

I take just a minute to recompose myself. I have to get off before Carl loses control -- well, control has nothing to do with it. It's been gone for a while now, and he's operating completely on instinct. I dismount and spin over the top of his body, positioning my cunt again over his mouth and taking his cock in both hands before I run my tongue in a circle over the tip. His foreskin still sheaths the glans, like a shiny wet nose cone. I use my tongue like a crowbar, wedging it between the two surfaces, prying the foreskin downward and sending him to paroxysms of sensory overload as I slide and drool over the sensitive tissue. He wants to lick my pussy, but he can do nothing but moan in ecstasy.

I know it won't be long. I don't intend it to be. I momentarily withdraw my tongue, open my mouth, and push the foreskin down with my lips as I plunge my face downward, sucking his cock in as far as I can, right until it reaches the gag point. My fingers move to tickling his balls and tugging on his scrotum, my mouth moves up and down like a piston, and suddenly it's full of hot, musky sweet-salty, sticky-slippery goo. I'm used to his volume by now, even though it's his third ejaculation of the day, he recovers quickly, and he gives me almost as much as he did this morning. This is good. I'll have a practical use for this ability very soon.

I swallow, and immediately a warm, relaxing glow permeates my entire being. Suddenly I'm in love with this cock, and I suckle it for a few more minutes as it slowly shrinks in my mouth. My energy is fading almost as fast as his cock, and I roll over on the bed, snuggle my face against his, and offer some sleepy kisses. He kisses me back, happily, and wraps his arms around me. I'm a very lucky girl.

Suddenly it's morning. The Sun is shining through the window. Carl is awake. He's out of bed, returning from the bathroom. Sounds like a good idea to me. When I return, he's relaxing on top of the sheets, his cock already pointing at the ceiling. Who could fail to be impressed?

"How's the morning breath?" I ask.

"Smells like pussy," he smiles.

"Thought so. Not that there's anything wrong with that! But let's replace it and start over, because I want to start over!"

The smile remains, Carl slides off the bed and trundles to the bathroom, cock still leading the way. He squeezes a tit as he walks by.

"You're a bad boy, Mister, and you're going to pay the price for that!"

I follow him into the bathroom, and once both toothbrushes are actively scrubbing, I keep a constant tugging tension on his cock with my left hand as I scrub with my right. Carl is left handed, so while he's brushing, his free right hand is free: free to explore my butt and my pussy, and I'm starting to think he's paying generously.

Mouths fresh, we race back into bed, and I hop onto it like a trampoline. Last night I wanted to be in charge, this morning I want to lay back and enjoy it. I know Carl will enjoy it too. That smile seems pasted on his face as he spreads my legs from the knees and bends down to service my clit and pussy with his tongue. Did I mention he was a fast learner? My juices ramp up quickly, and I don't need a lot of preparation. I want him inside me in a hurry. Once he gets there, he can take his time.

"Fuck me!" I whisper hoarsely, and he climbs comfortably over me and slides his cock in with no resistance. He reads my mood, and his strokes are long and slow. I lay leisurely on my back, eyes closed, breathing easy, taking it all in. In. Out. In. Out. Slooooowly. Ah, it's heaven. There's no rush, I do have places to be today, but not yet. I'm going to milk this, and I'm going to milk that cock.

We fuck in this relaxed way for about 15 minutes, and then I can start to feel his need rising. "Fuck me harder!" I order helpfully. He straightens out, grabs my legs below the knees, pulls my hips up and drapes my legs over his shoulders. Perfect slamming position. My eyes are wide open now. He ramps it up gradually, cycling between faster and slower, harder and gentler thrusts. My clit gets some major stimulation this way, and within a few more minutes I'm breathing very heavy and ready to start hooting. What a way to start the morning!

Carl doesn't stop to let me recover from my orgasm, and I have another one within a minute, but I'm slippery enough, and the pace is relaxed enough, where I'm able to regain my senses even as he continues his rhythm. But now I'm ready to be in control again.

"Cum in my mouth, mother fucker. I want my appetizer before breakfast!"

At the same time, I move to unhinge my legs and pull my hips down. Whether he's listening or not, he gets the message. He pulls out, and I gesture for him to come forward. He stands at the side of the bed, and I'm propped up by the pillow to be the perfect height to take him. He tastes good. I taste good on him! Practice has made perfect, and I know exactly the rhythm, pressure, and tension that he needs. He's in a very cooperative mood. I don't know where the volume is coming from, whether his prostate, his seminal vesicles, his testicles, his epididymis, or something I never studied in biology, but whatever it is, it must be bottomless. He's definitely back at full volume.

I smack my lips happily. Carl stands there, cock finally starting its retreat. He's sweaty, his eyes are gleaming, but he's barely breathing heavy.

"I need a quick shower," I announce, and lift myself out of the bed.

"I'll make an omelet," he calls out behind me as I disappear into the bathroom. I'm hungry, and an omelet would be wonderful.

He's still got the eggs on the stove cooking when I arrive back in the kitchen. He's a brave man, frying food without even an apron for protection.

"Don't scald that precious dick!" I warn him. He looks towards me with another grin. "Nothing makes it hotter than you do. I'll be ok."

Breakfast is superb. My Denisovan is not what anybody would mistake for a gourmet cook, but there are some things he does well, and breakfast omelets is one of them. I eat until I'm satisfied, he eats about twice as much and I'm not sure he is, but it's getting time for me to go. I drink down the rest of my orange juice, stand up, and push my tits against the back of his neck as I wrap my arms around him.

"I had a great weekend with you, Carl. You are such a fucking sexy man!" He loves hearing this. "If you want me to call Jo and Joe for some fun sometime, I think I can work something out with them."

"Please do!" he answers through his mouthful. "They'll come here, right?"

"Oh, definitely. I don't think my apartment would be all that great."

"Ok," he says.

"See you tomorrow night?"

"I'll be here," he nods, still chewing.

I give him an affectionate kiss on the top of his scalp and head to the front door. My romper is on the floor where I dropped it as soon as we walked in yesterday evening. I should have washed it overnight. It's not the freshest it's ever been. Oh, well, at least we'll be outdoors. I pull it on and step into the beach sandals. "Bye, Carl!" I call as I step out the door, close it behind me, and walk out into the morning heat to my little car.

A warm satisfied contentment envelops me as I drive. It's not love, but so what? Carl and I have a very comfortable relationship. It's respectful, pleasant, trusting, fun, and very exciting. It's Friends With Benefits as it should be. It can never be a full partnership, Carl has little interest in art, in history, in science, philosophy, or most other things that fascinate me. I've tried to enlarge his world, but I don't need to invest too much emotional energy into it. He's happy, for the most part, the way he is, and the way we are. What we both agree he could use is more sexual experience with women other than me. What I think is that more women need sexual experience with Carl. He's too good to keep on a shelf.

It's a Sunday morning drive across town. I can't call any drive in Austin "pleasant", but the traffic is slightly less insane than usual on Sunday mornings. I'm heading to the west side of town, to one of those long, narrow, meandering parks nestled into the floodplains of creeks that wind down towards the Colorado River. For much of the route the road takes up most of the available space, leaving only enough room for a row of trees, a running/biking path, and pullouts for the city buses. Occasionally the landscape widens out into playgrounds and picnic areas. I pull into a parking area at one of the larger spots, where the creek abuts the grounds of a local high school. There's a soccer field, baseball diamond, children's playground, picnic spots, even an outdoor fitness track with various bars and rings for the energetic. This is Austin. There are a lot of energetic young people here.

I open the car door and immediately I'm beset by a group of yelling, laughing children. "Aunt Tethys! Yeaaa! Uncle Taylor said you'd be here! Do you want a drink? Come play with us! Chase me! Did you bring a Kite? Hold me!"

It comes all at once. Taylor has two sisters and a brother, they all live nearby, and they all have small children. They're great kids, loads of fun, I adore them, and I'm so glad I'm not a parent! I lift up Krista, the youngest girl, forgetting for a moment who she belongs to. It doesn't matter, they're all essentially one gang. Taylor's the only unmarried member of the family, but they've adopted me as his honorary wife. I do believe they assume we'll be married sooner or later.

Taylor scoops the little crowd out of the way, and stands before me, bending down to kiss me. He also kisses Krista in my arms, because she expects it. I put her down, and she runs off with her sister and younger cousins, while some of the other kids still swarm Taylor and I as we head to an occupied picnic kiosk. I greet Kathy, Jenny, and Blake, Taylor's siblings. Tom, Dennis, and Brit are the respective spouses. They're all attractive, fit, and prosperous-looking in that upper middle class, generously conservative way. None have struggled financially that I know of, they're well educated, and take their happiness and good fortune for granted. I certainly can't hold it against them, they've never really experienced that other life, and they mean no one harm. I don't get the impression that they think they're superior to anyone -- they're lucky, they know it, they accept it, and they're happy with it. Not that they haven't known sadness. Taylor's dad passed away a year ago, although it was not unexpected. He'd been fighting cancer for several years before. His mother is now the world-traveling widow, touring the Hobbit country in New Zealand at the moment, I'm told.

"Hi, Tethys, you look fantastic! What a great summer outfit!" Kathy chirps in greeting, looking at my simple hemp romper. It's obvious I'm wearing nothing underneath it, I just hope that the dried residue on the crotch isn't too noticeable. I wish I had thought to bring a change of clothes to Carl's. "Thanks, it's comfortable," I answer. "I just hope it's not soaking wet in an hour."

Brit smirks a little. "We'll have to keep Taylor away from you, then." She follows with a wink.

Three women giggle, I smile, and sit beside them at the table. Taylor, Tom and Blake are already off on the lawn, chasing the kids, chasing frisbees, chasing footballs. Dennis is at the charcoal grill in his apron

"With these guys, y'all don't need a puppy," I point out to the wives.

"Oh, we just got a puppy!" squeals Jenny. "He's so cute!"

We spend a half an hour discussing puppies, breeds, housetraining, dogs, children and dogs, children, and more children. Fortunately, Taylor rescues me. He's dripping with sweat, wetter than I'd feared I would be in my outfit. He looks grand. The kids all come running up looking for snacks and drinks, and Taylor, after a deep drink of water himself, hustles me away for a walk across the park.

"How'd it go yesterday?" he asks casually.

I smile and nod. "There's a video record of events if you want to see it."

"You know I do, you slutty siren you."

"Flattery will get you just about anywhere," I purr. It was a good workout, a good fuck, a good time at the lake, a good fuck, and a good time back at the house, and a good fuck. I slept well.

"Oh, and by the way," I remember. There's another couple that we were talking to, a little older but still good looking. I think we're going to meet up with them and do some swinging soon."

"Wow, now I'm starting to feel left out," Taylor pouts.

"Well, you know I feel a little guilty about getting all the side action while you sit at home all lonely and helpless. God knows you could never find a girl on your own!"

"Not like you I couldn't."

"I don't think you would want a second girl like me," I laugh. But, if the load's going to be on my shoulders, and if you can't find your own friend, I guess I'll have to find you one myself."

"Will you, now?"

"I have some ideas."

Taylor shakes his head. "I don't think any other girls like you exist, so I don't have to worry. But anyway, if I fuck anybody else, I'd want you to be part of it."

"I was just thinking the same thing," I answer. "Carl's grandfathered in, you know that. We'll always do our own thing. And you know he's been good for me, and I've been good for him, and that's not going to end. But in everything else, you take priority."

"Has it occurred to you," Taylor asks softly, "that we have a very unusual relationship?"

I nod, feeling suddenly serious. There's a bench nearby, and I pull him to it.

"Taylor, there are just a few guys who accept me as I am, and maybe one or two who somewhat understand me. But nobody understands me, accepts me, and embraces me like you do. I know I'm not the archetype of the loyal partner, and most men would be horrified at the thought of being in a relationship with somebody like me. I don't blame them, either. But you don't think twice about it. You know who I am, you know what I am, and I never get anything from you but love, affection, and respect. And, well, a lot of lust and kinkiness too. I guess you're a bit unusual yourself."

"We both are," Taylor sighs. You know, I've had some women who made fun of me and laughed at my cock when they saw it. That was pretty traumatizing when I was young."

"It's a beautiful cock," I reach for his pants and feel the growing bulge. "And I'll show you my appreciation again tonight. I just want you to remember that no matter who I'm with, no matter who else I might want to fuck -- and you know I can't fuck just one person -- it's you I really love. I know that sounds trite, but I can't say it better. I wish I could."

"I believe you. And you're the one I really love too."

"Well then, trust me. You need to get over this fear of women rejecting your 'flight deck'. Or, 'flight dick', I should say. I'm not the only woman who would think it's beautiful, and we're going to prove that."

Taylor looks doubtful. "How?"

"Trust me," I tell him.

I give his cock one more quick squeeze, then we head back together to the family. It's gotten to be lunch time, and Dennis has, in his uniquely organized way, separated the brisket, burgers, and chicken thighs into separate packages and layouts. The pinto beans are hot and ready, and the cole slaw and potato salad have their individual spoons inserted for scooping. The paper plates are distributed, and everyone has their choice of soda, tea, or water. It's about as typical as a Texas picnic can be.

Also as is traditional, the adults sit at one table while the kids sit at another. I understand why we want to do it that way, but it never really works out. Somebody is always leaving our table to deal with squabbles, hurt feelings, spilled food, spilled drinks, and the general mayhem that goes along with the joy of parenting. When they aren't squabbling at their table, they're squabbling at ours. Taylor and I smile at each other, and eat in relative peace. We may someday have to experience this joy firsthand, but not for quite some time yet.