Gesso Pt. 03

Lunch over, the children and men are back on the lawn roughing and tumbling, while we women, as we seem to continue to do no matter how liberated our society claims to be, stay behind to clean up. The task is not too challenging, with four of us to pitch in, and most of the settings disposable. As we finish up, Jenny catches my attention. She's the oldest of Taylor's siblings, and has the reputation as the responsible one.

"I was thinking of going for a walk just to let lunch settle. Would you like to come with me?"

There's just the faintest tone to her question, and I get the feeling that declining would be somewhat more than just impolite.

The walk is pleasant, we chat about the food, the weather, the men, and the kids. She asks perceptive questions about my art, and my plans with it. She's always seemed to admire my work, and I'm happy to share details about the projects I'm working on or contemplating. In about fifteen minutes, we're on the other side of the park, well out of sight and earshot of anyone we know. She finds another bench, and we sit comfortably.

"Tethys," she begins, and I once again detect that faintest of tones. I don't know what it means.

"You have been so good for Taylor, and he thinks the world of you."

"The feeling is mutual," I smile and nod. "He's a great guy, and your parents raised all of your family well. I love all of you guys."

"We love you too, I hope you know that. You really are part of the family, and I can't imagine Taylor's life, or mine for that matter, without you in it. Before you came along he was so shy, so insecure about himself. You've made a big change in his life for the better. I don't know what you're doing, but keep doing it."

"I plan on doing just that!" I smile. I realize now that I'm about to get a version of "the talk," and that Jenny has been naturally selected from among the women of the group as the one to do it. If the roles were reversed, a father would be asking his teenage daughter's suitor if his intentions were honorable. Of course, that rarely goes well for the father. With sisters and brothers at stake, the conversations are usually more honest, and more productive.

"I was wondering if the two of you had any plans to take it further. It's none of my business, and you'll probably end up either telling me to ask Taylor or to go fuck myself, but like I said, I want to keep you around. We like having you."

I'm flattered by the compliment, and I'm sure it's sincere. I don't want to burst any dreams they might have, but I doubt that I could give the answer they want right now.

"I guess it's possible, but Taylor and I haven't discussed it at all. Don't go asking him anything about it, though, he'll probably feel pressured to make a rash decision, and that wouldn't be fair to him."

"I won't do that," Jenny agrees. "I'm probably putting you on the spot as it is. You two just seem so natural together, like a real couple. It's like you've been together for years."

"Thank you. I know I'm comfortable with him. We trust each other, that's a very good thing. And he's an interesting person, and he sure knows how to please a woman!"

"So what's holding you back?" Jenny squints a little. Because I have it from a reliable source that Taylor would marry you in a second if he thought you'd be willing."

"He told you that?" I ask, surprised.

"I didn't say he did," she shrugs.

I shake my head. Umm, it's not uncommon for couples our age to be together without being married. This isn't our parents generation, you know."

"I know, " she sighs. "But then most of those couples are at least living together. I'm not saying you should, but I guess we... I was wondering if I should worry about you suddenly disappearing from the scene somewhere down the road. I mean, the kids would be heartbroken."

"I can't speak for Taylor," I stall. "I don't plan on going anywhere, but I don't think I can promise the kind of commitment you want. I'm committed to Taylor, but I'm not committed to us living together. I like having my own place, I like having moments of privacy, I like being able to come and go as I please. I just can't settle down in that way, not with Taylor, and not with any other man."

Jenny sucks in her breath. "Another man? Is there another man?"

It was going to come out sooner or later, I suppose. If you're going to be part of a family, they're going to learn secrets. Maybe I won't be part of the family after this, as far as they're concerned.

"I'm not hiding anything from Taylor," I begin. "He knows what I do and who I see, and he's fine with it. He knows that I'm not really capable of monogamy. It doesn't change our feelings for each other."

"Wow. Well it sure changes some other parts of the equation," Jenny shakes her head.

"I'm not trying to hurt anybody's feelings," I'm feeling a little defensive now. "I'm not hurting Taylor, he accepts it without any question. I don't mean to hurt any of the rest of you either, and that's why it's kind of been between just him and I, until now."

"I know what you mean," Jenny is staring at the dirt below us. "It's my own fault for being a busybody, I guess. I just don't know how he can keep from being jealous."

"Who says he's not jealous? He's human. I would probably be a little jealous if he was to see other women, but I'd still accept it and be happy for him. In fact, I think he should do that. I'm looking around to see if I can come up with somebody suitable."

"Now that's just weird," Jenny scowls.

I shrug. "I'm an artist. Taylor is a creative soul. We understand each other. We aren't mainstream. We can't be. We can't be normal, we can't even try. That's part of why I love him, and he loves me. You'd be surprised how many successful loving couples have open relationships. If we ever were to get married, we'd still have an open relationship."

I know I'm bullshitting. I've heard of successful loving couples having open relationships, and having recently met Joe and Jo, I have one real-world example to refer to. But I have no idea how common they are, or whether it is anywhere near "a lot." We sit in silence for a few very long minutes, Jenny concentrating hard on the patterns she's making with her toe on the sand below the bench. Finally I put my hand on her knee.

"Nothing's changed. I still love Taylor. I still love you and the kids, and all your family. I still want to be part of your life, and go to picnics with you."

Jenny laughs quietly, raising her head to look at me. She smiles. "Like I said, it's my own fault for being a busybody. It's funny, but if you had been anybody else, and involved with anyone other than Taylor, I'd just be saying 'Oh, well, everybody has a right to find their own happiness.' And I really believe that deep down. But I guess my beliefs don't always match my expectations. I don't want to be a hypocrite, especially to family. I meant what I said earlier about you being good for Taylor, and I still think so. The two of you just picked a very unusual way to achieve it. I've always said I'm not one to judge, even though I do, more than I should.

"You know what? Don't tell any of the others this. I'll keep it to myself. If it comes out another way, so be it. I'll just say you two have a good relationship as is, and we can just accept you as you are. Is that ok?"

"It's more than ok," I nod. "It's a bit of a relief."

"Yeah, for me too. Ok, ready to walk?"

The rest of the day continues pleasantly, lots of games of toss with the kids, cheerful conversations with the brothers and sisters and spouses, lots of affectionate caresses given and received between Taylor and I, and lots of dust and sweat. By late afternoon, I know I don't have to worry about visible stains on the crotch of my clothing, because I'm stained everywhere. So are the others.

Taylor and I leave separately, but we are both going back to his house. I need a shower and a shave, as does he. We both jump into the shower together as soon as we arrive... well, after I finally remember to toss my romper into the wash along with some of Taylor's clothes.

He asks for the honor of shaving me tonight, and I accept with great anticipation. All I need is a few quick razor strokes, but he draws it out, turning into a sensual feast. He rinses away the last of the foaming suds, and gently explores the folds of my labia and the hood of my clit with his tongue and fingers. I'm starting to pant, and the juices are flowing, when he stops, looks up at me, and smiles.

"Jenny said something strange to me when I was leaving the park this afternoon."

I'm disappointed by the interruption, but considering my previous conversation with Jenny, I was intrigued. "What did she say?"

"She gave me a big hug, and then said "Tethys and you have a good thing going. Don't ever try to be normal."

I laugh. "Jenny and I had 'the talk' today. I let it slip that we aren't monogamous."

"You mean you aren't monogamous," Taylor snickers, sliding his finger across my inner lips once more. I gasp involuntarily. "I've been completely monogamous."

"Not for much longer," I giggle. I have plans for you, young man. You're going to be fucking more than one woman soon, and I'm going to help you do it."

"You mentioned something like that before," Taylor says.

"Trust me!" I command. "And now fuck me!"

I push my ass out away from the shower wall, and spread my legs enough to make my pussy visible and easily acceptable. Taylor has to spread his legs a lot wider and bend his knees a little to reach low enough to enter me, but he manages. The first thrust completely ejects what little of the days tension remained, and I'm free to simply ride the waves of pleasure, to feel the heat that radiates from clit to behind my eyebrows, to utter all the strange guttural sounds that flow from my passion -- the screams, the laughs, the gurgles, sounds at once animalistic and delightfully human. Taylor's cock is so strangely shaped, I can recognize the unique feel inside me from any position, and I love it.

I manage two quick but intense orgasms, and I can feel the change in Taylor's breathing. He's either going to cum inside me or his knees will give out and he'll collapse on the shower floor.

"Stop!" I order, and pull my butt forward, rudely ejecting his cock without the dignity of withdrawing on its own. I turn around, and he looks a little expectant, a little confused, and maybe on the verge of feeling hurt.

"C'mon, let's dry off." I pull him out of the shower, grab a thick fluffy towel (Taylor always has thick fluffy towels, that's one reason I love him), and start scrubbing him dry. His cock is still at full extension, and I make a little game of slapping it around with the towel, letting it bounce up to his belly and back down again. I handle his balls much more tenderly. He gets the hint, grabs another thick fluffy towel (did I mention I like thick fluffy towels?), and begins a vigorous drying massage on my willing body.

Reasonably dry, we race to his bed, and in seeming acknowledgment of the fact that he's winning the race, I pull up at the last second, while he flops bodily onto the mattress. I make a detour to my bag, and pull out my phone.

"You're going to like this," I tell him, as I move to his computer and plug the phone into the data port. I download all the recent photos and videos onto his hard drive. They'll be his to keep and enjoy as long as he wants to enjoy them. I make sure the computer is hooked up to the big screen on the wall, and open the folder. The first few pictures are of Carl, standing impressive and muscular in his full naked glory. Taylor shakes his head.

"Don't try to make me jealous, I know I'll never have muscles like that."

"You don't have to, sexy man, you look beautiful as you are. There are different ways of being irresistible, you know," I reassure him.

Then we get into the pictures that Jo took of Carl and I together. Me sucking his cock, Carl eating my pussy, fucking me from behind. And then it shifted into video, wide shots, extreme closeups, me gobbling Carl's cock noisily, drool dribbling down my chin and his balls, Carl lifting me up and wrapping my legs around his hips, fucking me in his patented standing position. Taylor stares silently, but I see his cock throbbing. I'm aware now that Joanne is a masterful videographer and choreographer. This is more erotic than any of the commercial porn we've ever watched. Several shots allow the viewer to see the background, random naked strangers walking by, some momentarily stopping to watch, some pretending to ignore us. I even see the boat out on the water who's jeering occupant I had shamed afterwards.

"Damn. Damn. Fuck. Holy shit. Fuck. Holy fuck! Look at you girl! You're so fucking wet! Look, your fucking cunt is dripping onto the ground!"

I'm just about that wet now. It's a far better video than I expected, and between it and Taylor's reaction I'm not sure if I can hold back. I grab his cock and he jumps in the excitement. Hearing my own squeals and muffled screams, the moans, Carl's groans, and Jo's encouraging words from behind the camera is a completely thrilling experience. I even hear Joe making appreciative comments, which I didn't notice at the time. The episode comes to its searing climax, the camera pulls in close, within inches of the liquid interface where Carl's cock disappears into my cunt, we see his balls begin to twitch, then the bottom ridge of his shaft starts to pump, and seconds later my own dripping slime is mixed with his flowing, dribbling white goo. The view and the sound are both cinema-worthy, all it needs is a dramatic score from Howard Shore.

I give Taylor's dick a hard squeeze and then a tug. Remember, Love, you only get to cum once tonight. Make it a good one for you."

"Just once?" Taylor looks quizzical.

"Remember Tuesday. You're going to need a full load. I have plans for you. Tuesday you can cum as often and as much as you can stand. Now fuck me, fuck me, fuck me right now!

I know exactly how I want to be fucked, deep and fast. I lay on my back and spread my legs, and when Taylor leans forward I raise them up and set them over his shoulders. His testicles will slam against my butthole, his pubes will pound mine, and that luscious bulging glans of his will flatten itself against my cervix. His winged shaft will spread my vaginal walls apart, and I will be in another world.

"Slam me, mother fucker! Slam your fuckin' slut like she's never been slammed! Own me with your cock! Make me your fucking cock slave! I'm your mother fucking loving siren cockslave!"

Another set of orgasms erupts out of me, three at least. Taylor is merciless. Now he's grunting and whimpering, it's not going to be long. Suddenly, and roughly, he pulls out quickly, pushes my legs to the side, and crawls forward, shoving that dripping cock into my face. "Suck it, you fucking slut! Taste my cum and swallow all of it! Suck it hard!"

I open my mouth and wrap my tongue around him as he slides towards my throat. I stop him with my hand half way down. I don't want him to cum down my throat, I want it in my mouth where I can taste it. I want to roll it on my tongue, to slurp it, to show it to him, to gargle it, to wipe it across my teeth and gums, then to swallow it slowly. It will be a mouthful, I'm sure. I love his prolific volume.

It happens. Just the way I want it. With a loud roar that quickly descends to a helpless moan, Taylor explodes into my mouth. For a quick second I almost regret that his ejaculation is hidden inside my flesh. I love to see gobs of semen spurting out of the tip of a cock, especially when it's forceful like this is. I wonder how far it would have squirted through the air. Someday I'd like to do an experiment where I can measure the travel distance. I love the sight of an ejaculating penis. I love the sight of a penis, period. I don't have penis envy, but I'll happily admit to having a strong case of penis admiration. I don't need to grow one when I can have delicious access to more than one.

The thought passes quickly. This is where I really want it. I love the taste of Taylor's cock, of his precum, of his cum, of his sweat. I love it all. Not all men have delicious cum, but Taylor and Carl are without a doubt producers of gourmet semen.

Taylor sinks down on the bed, spent. "I hope that will cover you for a couple of days," I whisper and nibble into his lower lip. I slip my tongue into his mouth, there's still a slight residue of ejaculate on it. Taylor has learned to like it. I've taught him to like a few things. "And remember. No masturbation, no fapping, no jacking off, and no wet dreams. If you happen to meet a woman and she makes you cum in or on her, that's different. I'll understand."

Taylor gasps out a weak laugh. "As you wish."

I snuggle into him, and he reaches for the remote light switch on the bedstand. He relaxes into his pillow, and he becomes my pillow. I alternate between resting on his chest and resting on his belly, gently suckling on his slowly hardening cock.

"Don't get me going too far, I might have trouble obeying orders," Taylor reminds me.

I relent, nestle back into his chest, and after a few minutes of affectionate, sleepy night talk, the world disappears into pleasant slumber.

Taylor and I sleep as late as we dare for a Monday morning. Even if we were in the mood for a fresh morning fuck, and I know at least I am, there's just no time. Another quick mutual shower, a minimal breakfast, and Taylor is dressed and out the door. I linger a little longer. It's Taylor's house, but I have a key and the run of the place. I eat a little more substantial breakfast, and grab my romper, now clean and stain-free, from the dryer. I pull out Taylor's clothes and fold them neatly, laying them on his bed, which I've also made. "I'm so domestic," I laugh to myself.

I then quickly throw the romper on, slip into my sandals, and lock the door behind me.