Starting Over Ch. 02

"How do I put this in words?"... "Doug was the golden boy. Not just when I knew him but going back to childhood: straight A student, eagle scout, student body president, captain of the football team, National Merit Scholar, top of his class at Princeton and at Stanford Business School."

"And was he handsome?"

"Oh god yes. Movie star grade. And charming. Women fell all over him and even men wanted to be his friend or more if they were gay. He was one of those guys who could walk into a room and light it up for everyone in the room. He could sell anything. He was happiest when he was selling an idea." She paused and smiled. "Or seducing a woman he had just met."

"So how did he find his way to a commune in St. Helena?"

"Interesting question. Not sure he ever really explained it, not to me and probably not to himself. By the time he had finished his MBA he was feeling, not burned out, but for the first time in his life he was uncertain. He had climbed every mountain the world had put in front of him, and now he didn't see the next mountain to climb. He had boatloads of job offers--investment banks, big consulting companies, industrial companies, Silicon Valley start-ups and the mega-companies like Google. Even the CIA wanted him. But he didn't see a clear answer as to which of those, if any, was the obvious next challenge to conquer. He had been reading a bunch of stuff by some of the Beat Poets; Snyder, Ginsberg, Brautigan, and Ferlinghetti, even Leary's 'turn on, tune in, drop out' mantra. He was fascinated by Kerouac. So, the golden boy did just what Leary said. He turned down all the offers and moved to the commune in St. Helena while he decided what the next mountain to climb would be. That is where I met him."

"And you fell in love with him."

"Oh god yes. Everyone did. But especially me. I was in Med school at Stanford by that time and I was ready to drop everything and move to St. Helena, just to be with him, but he told me, 'No. don't drop out. Leary's full of shit on the 'drop out' stuff. Just come up here and do the drugs and make love with me and the others when you can but stick with Med School. This place is okay for a break from the real world, but Leary's wrong. Eventually we all have to deal with the real world. You got one of the few brass rings the world hands out, so you need to hang on and see where it goes. But come up on the weekends and I'll help you keep your head straight about it.' He knew he was going back but he just wasn't sure when or how."

"And what mountain did he decide to climb?"

"I was always kind of amused by that. I had finished Med School and was well into my psyche residency. Doug had read all of those heavy Beat Poets who thought the world was shit and you should live in a tent in the Sierras or a third floor walk-up in the Mission, and after four years of doing more or less nothing beyond raising goats, cultivating and refining marijuana, learning to play the guitar, and screwing every woman that come along, including me, he sat down with me one night and told me he had decided on what came next. It was amazing. He had it all figured out. He wanted to marry me and leave the commune, and he wanted to make a hundred million dollars. I asked him how he was going to do that. He said he would get down on his knee and ask me, to which I said, 'Yes, I'll marry you. Skip the bended knee stuff but tell me how you are going to make that kind of money. I'm not sure I went to Med School to support you and your hippy friends.' He said, he was done with the commune and the Beat Poets and he was going to make money in venture capital. He had to explain what venture capital was to me, but he had it all figured out."

"I was skeptical. After all, very few people just decide they are going to make a hundred million dollars and then go and do it. But I was so in love. I just focused on the 'marry me' part said 'yes.' But I stayed with my Psyche Residency. Just in case."

"And did he make the money?"

Britt laughed. "Oh my god yes. By the time he died he had his own venture capital firm and he was worth a billion dollars. He had an uncanny knack for finding long haired geeks who had the next big thing."

"Oh my. So you are a very rich widow."

"Sort of. Much of the money is still invested in the firm. His partners didn't happen to have a spare billion laying around to buy me out. It took some negotiation and a bunch of tax planning, but I can easily live the rest of my life on what they paid me. We put the rights to much of the future payouts from the firm in a charitable trust that Doug and I decided to set up before he died. That really helped with the estate taxes." Britt laughed. "What the hell would I do with a billion dollars? I would have to bring Doug back from the dead to help me manage it. But that reminds me. I do have to go over to Palo Alto this afternoon for a meeting of the board of trustees for the trust."

"So while you were married you had a psychiatric medical practice and he ran a venture capital company. Did that leave much time for each other?"

"I can't lie about it. There was never enough time. When we did get together the sex was spectacular. Doug was a fabulous lover, so attentive to my needs. Or the needs of whoever else he was loving. I never heard a woman complain about his skills."

"And sharing him? That wasn't a problem?"

"No it started out that way in the commune where we both had other lovers all the time. It was just a part of our relationship. He was going to fuck who he found interesting and I was going to fuck who I found interesting, and then we were always going to do each other. I assume you and Ellen didn't live that way?"

"Hardly," I said with a laugh. "Ellen was the first and only woman I ever made love to and I was the same for her."

"Until this morning," Brit said.

"Yes. I crossed a line this morning."

"I crossed another line this morning," Britt said. "When Doug died I told myself I could never have another lover. There could never be another like Doug."

"Why?"

"Who knows. I was devastated."

"And this morning?"

"It was time to move on. You said it yourself."

"Was I good enough?"

"Oh yes, but don't flatter yourself and say you were as good as Doug. Just better than 'not Doug'."

"I'll take that. You were better than 'not Ellen' too. But really different. I was worried when you cried. She never cried."

She shrugged. "I get emotional sometimes and this morning was special. It was good when you held me."

That was when my doorbell buzzed/rang. We were both still naked. I scrambled around and got into the old cut off sweatpants and T-shirt I had left in the kitchen when we abandoned breakfast. I left Britt sitting naked in the kitchen holding my white shirt in her hand while I answered the door.

When I opened the door I found... Britt? Well, I found a woman who looked so much like Britt I thought?...Well, I didn't know what I thought. The woman at the door had the same voluptuous figure as Britt, but wasn't hiding it in Britt's usual conservative clothing, opting instead for a tight pair of very short shorts and a tank top that barely contained her breasts. Her thick blonde hair, instead of piled atop her head, was braided, and hung down well below her shoulders, like a Viking Shield-Maiden.

I was to say the least confused and I confess that I just stared, as did the woman on the porch. "Uhm... I'm looking for Britt Torkelson," she said.

"Oh. She lives next door," I responded.

"I know but she didn't answer her doorbell and I just thought I would check here."

"That was when Britt intervened, yelling from the kitchen, "Dave, that's my sister, Freya. Let her in."

When Freya and I walked into the kitchen Britt had managed to put on my white dress shirt she had left on the floor earlier, but it still didn't cover much even though she had buttoned it more fully.

Freya looked at the two of us and said, "Hmm, I guess I'm early."

"Not a problem," I said. "Would you like some coffee. Your sister and I were just telling each other our life stories."

Freya burst out laughing. Once she stopped, she said, "Yes, I'd love some coffee and I'd love to hear my sister's life story also." Then she laughed some more. "I must say Britt that it looks like you've gotten past this abstinence obsession you've had since Doug died. It's about time."

"Yes, I guess I have," Britt said. "Dave, this is my sister Freya. Freya, this is my new neighbor, Dave. Dave as you can see, Freya and I are twins."

"Neighbor with benefits?" Freya interrupted.

Britt smiled. "Yes, as of this morning."

"Oh my," Freya said. "I wish I had come by earlier." She looked at me with a wink and said, "I like to watch."

"My sister likes to do more than just watch," Britt said. "We used to take turns with each other's boyfriends when we were at the University of Minnesota. It confused the hell out of them."

I looked back and forth at the two women and said, "I can understand that."

"Actually Britt," Freya said. "I came by to tell you that Howie called and cancelled our trustees meeting for this afternoon. I tried to call you but you weren't answering your phone. Now I can see why."

"Oh." Britt looked at me and said, "It looks like my afternoon is now free." That sounded great to me, but I wasn't sure how that would work with Freya present.

"Britt," Freya said, jumping in. "Did you bring back any of those yummy cookies your friends in Napa make? I came up here looking for you on Friday, but you weren't around."

"I know. I didn't get back until Sunday afternoon."

Oh shit, I thought. The blonde I watched masturbating in Britt's back yard wasn't Britt. It was her sister, Freya.

"It didn't matter," Freya said. "I used your back yard for a little sunbathing. By the way, Britt, did you know your fence has a broken board." She looked at me with a sly smile.

Busted, I thought.

"Oh really," Britt said. "I better fix that. Otherwise, some pervert might be watching you when you come over here and sunbathe in the nude."

I sat in silence trying to look ignorant of the rather pointed conversation that was going on. The problem was that it was 'pointed' at me.

"Well, never mind Britt," Freya said. "Since we aren't going to Palo Alto we should go over to your house and have some of those yummy candies you brought back from Napa."

"Want to joint us Dave?" Britt asked me.

"Sure," I said.

"We're going to be naked," Freya said with a giggle. "But if you've already seen Britt, you've seen me. After all we are twins."

Or the other way around, I thought. The Britt I had watched masturbating in her backyard had been Freya.

Half an hour later we were sitting in Britt's backyard, sunning our naked bodies in three patio chairs arranged so we all faced each other. We had each eaten another of the marijuana cookies as soon as we arrived. I was beginning to feel quite stoned. It felt good. California's legalization of recreational marijuana had been a real step forward I thought.

"So Dave," Freya asked, "What do you do for a living?"

I was going to simply say I was retired, but before I could speak up Britt jumped in.

"He writes porn," she said.

"Really." Freya said with a lewd smile. "You write porn and get paid for it. Hmmm. Is it any good?'

"Depends on who is reading it and why they are reading it," I responded. "Oh, and I don't get paid for it. It's just a hobby."

Britt laughed. "I would say you were very well-paid last night and this morning. And yes, it is very good. He read it to me last night. He has an incredibly sexy voice."

"I've noticed the voice," Freya said.

"Well now that you put it that way, I guess I was well paid for it."

Britt giggled. "He has other skills besides his porn and his sexy voice."

"Such as?" Freya asked.

"He's very good at talking dirty."

"Ooh. Fun," Freya said. "I love men who can talk dirty. Can you give us a sample Dave?"

"No, not right now. It's not something I can just step up to a podium and do. It has to be in context."

"Oh you mean like when you are fucking," Freya said.

I nodded.

"Or masturbating," Britt added, her eyes twinkling.

"Or that too," I agreed with Britt.

"I think you two were very naughty last night," Freya said.

"And this morning," I added.

"Well, it was his dirty story that did it," Britt said.

"So his dirty story turned you on?" Freya asked.

"Good God, yes," Britt responded. "His stories are filthy. My friends in Napa thought so too."

"You told them about my stories?"

Freya laughed. "When my little sister gets stoned, she's pathologically honest. The drug is like a truth serum for her."

Brit responded testily, "It's not pathological. I'm just a little loose when I get stoned. And I'm not your little sister. We're twins."

"Three minutes," Freya said. " I'm three minutes older than you. I'll never let you forget it."

"So your friends liked my stories?" I asked, trying to defuse the conflict. I didn't really care that she had told them I wrote dirty stories. At least I didn't care right then. Thanks to Britt's magic cookie, I didn't care about much of anything right then, except perhaps how beautiful I thought the twin sisters' tits were. I was really obsessing over them.

"Oh yes," Britt responded. "We took turns reading aloud while we masturbated."

"You are so bad Britt," Freya said. "Reading this man's filth to your friends while you were having a five-person circle jerk."

Britt shrugged. "They loved it. It's like Dave said. It's all about context. If you read one of his stories from the pulpit in a Lutheran church during the service, its filth, even obscene. During a circle jerk, it's high-quality erotica."

Everyone laughed.

"Well we're certainly not in church," Freya said. "Will you read us one of your stories?" Dave.

My how my life has changed I thought. Ten days ago, I was still grieving the loss of my wife and almost embarrassed to admit to myself that I wrote porn for my own amusement. Now I was sitting naked in a back yard in the Berkeley hills with two equally naked and very attractive late forty something blondes who wanted me to read my porn to them. I could feel my dick beginning to swell in anticipation of a replay of last night. But this time it would be in stereo. Two Norwegian blondes masturbating as I read my filth to them. I said, "Okay."

Britt got me a tablet and I opened to the Literotica list of my posted stories. "Now," I asked. "what kind of filth do you ladies want to hear?"

"Something with a lot of fucking," Freya responded.

"And oral sex," Britt added.

"But not too much story," Freya added. "Just the filth."

"Okay," I said. "I think I've got just the story for you two. It's called 'Forbidden'... "

"Ooh, That's a good one," Britt interrupted. "It's really dirty."

"Britt," I asked, "are there any of my stories you haven't read?"

"Well I had some time on my hands while I was up in Napa last week. So no, I pretty much read all of them."

I shook my head.

"How many are there?" Freya asked.

"Well over a hundred," I answered.

"You slut Britt. It's a miracle you didn't wear your pussy out."

Britt shrugged her shoulders and said, "Well... What can I say. I really enjoyed them. They're filthy. And I was beginning to tire of my abstinence. But let's not get into that. They are so much better when Dave reads them. You'll see."

I could see that Britt meant what she was saying. Her nipples were swollen just from talking about my reading a story. She was clearly aroused and I hadn't even started reading yet.

"All right. Let me give you ladies a bit of background on this story. I want to make sure Freya knows what kind of filth she is getting into here. It's a two-part story about a couple who are both adulterous. This isn't the kind of story where they both know about the other's adultery and approve it or perhaps even participate. Nor can either of them claim the other's bad behavior as an excuse. They are each unaware of their spouse's Illicit activities. They are just horny. Each of these people is secretly fucking someone other than their spouse and not about to admit to the other. They know it's wrong and they do it anyway, because it's fun. The secrecy and hiding, the fear of getting caught, are all part of the fun for these people. These kinds of stories don't get very good scores, even if they are well written. There are a lot of trolls out there who take exception to the plot line regardless of the quality of the writing. They write very harsh, even crude, comments and award scores of one or two on the five-point scale used on the site. Sometimes I write in this category just to provoke them. In this posting I deliberately set out to write two chapters in which first the wife and then the husband commits adultery. I was curious to see if the scores would be different. To my surprise they weren't. They both got low scores and drew lots of angst filled comments."

I spent the next twenty minutes reading both chapters of Forbidden.

I was barely started when Freya said, "Wait a minute, Dave. Aren't you going to join us in this debauchery?"

"Yeah, it's not really a circle jerk unless we have at least three people participating. I looked it up once," Britt said. "Come on Dave stroke that cock of yours like you did last night."

I was already two thirds engorged just from sitting and obsessing about the two pairs of beautiful tits before me. My cock was lying like a log alongside one leg. Given I had already cum in my morning fuck session with Britt, I was not at risk of losing control. I began stroking my cock and made sure I kept it fully erect throughout the reading without sliding down a slippery slope and climaxing. The girls felt no such constraints. I saw each of them climax twice before I reached the end of the second chapter.

As I began to read, I watched both women slowly masturbating. It was amazing. They were twins and they both masturbated alike. They each started with her big soft tits--massaging them, then running her fingertips around each breast in ever tightening concentric circles, followed each time with a small gasp when their finger reached the already engorged nipple, pinching and pulling on the nipple as they licked their lips in lust. Fuck, this is amazing I thought.

When they got to their pussies they diverged a bit. Brit sat with one leg pulled up, her heel resting on the chair and the leg splayed to the side provide access to her pussy for her hands and for my eyes. She continued to use one hand to play with her tits while the other hand stroked between her lips. By the time I reached the first sex scene (I mean the oral sex scene, not just the adulterous slow seduction of the absent husband's old friend that opened the story) Britt had two fingers in her pussy, and when I got to the part where the husband's old friend was fucking the wife, Britt was finger fucking herself ferociously with one hand and rubbing her clit with the other. She came with a soft groan when the heroine of the story reached her second climax.

Freya had a different approach. She slid her hips forward on the chair seat and then spread her legs over the arms of the chair, lewdly exposing herself. She moved more quickly than Britt to put fingers into her cunt, but then clearly managed the pace to keep herself from cumming sooner than she wanted. Once she was fully exposed, fingers in her cunt, she looked directly at me and asked, "Like the view?"

I paused in my reading long enough to hiss, "Yes."

"Don't interrupt him, Freya," Britt said. "He's just getting to the good part."

Both girls were silent after that, but they each had a lovely orgasm before the story was over and then an additional, somewhat softer orgasm, during the second chapter describing the errant husband's seduction of his mixed doubles tennis partner. These weren't screaming, total losing it orgasms like Britt had experienced with me that morning. They were softer. Just a groan and subtle flexing of muscles with their heads thrown back.