Tethys - Growing The Tribe Pt. 01

She's going to adore Carl and Taylor and Henri, I think to myself. They all have quite memorable genitalia, well worth studying. Even Joe, who outwardly looks normal in every way, has the sweetest taste I've ever encountered.

"Wait, you don't have a boyfriend or girlfriend to spend that free time with?"

"I did until recently. It's been a couple of months since I had any sex with somebody else. Remember that painting from the gallery you saw? That was supposedly my girlfriend, Vicki, until she and my so-called boyfriend, Patrick, decided they liked each other better than me. Basically right after I finished that painting. And after I let her use my dildo for the scene!" she laughs, with a little bitterness.

"I know I come on too strong sometimes," she sounds wistful now.

I'm in a bit of cognitive dissonance at the moment. The young naked girl sitting in front of me, so pale, so thin, so short, so frail looking -- every bit the waif I thought her at our first meeting, describing herself as some kind of insatiable sexual dynamo! Her art certainly reflects a raw, unconstrained sexuality, yet her face is doe-eyed and innocent looking, there wasn't a trace of the uncontrollable slut during our lunch. Except for the lack of underwear, I suppose. I sit beside her on the bed.

"I don't have all that much experience with women," I say, hoping it's of comfort. "But I can identify with someone else thinking I was too aggressive. I've had some dates that scared the guys off, or else they decided after one fuck that I wasn't the kind to bring home to mother."

Hera laughs. "Mother is the least of my problems! My parents are great, they accept me as I am and don't judge. I started masturbating almost obsessively the moment I hit puberty, and basically my Mom just told me to not do it in the shower because it runs up the water bills. Sex was all I could think about, and they had me on the pill as soon as they were able to do it. I never wear clothes at home when I can avoid it, and they're fine with it. They aren't nudists, or polyamorous, or swingers, or anything like that, but they don't impose their life on mine. My Mom says I'm the child of the Goddess, although they don't know which one, and I'm living the life she gave me. I could be fucking right in front of them and they'd be fine with it."

"That'll make for an interesting home life."

"Not that interesting any more. My two former best friends now think of me as a common enemy, and as sex-obsessed as I am, I'm really not into one night stands or anonymous encounters."

She narrows her eyes at me. "And what the hell am I doing, whining about my sex life on a first date! You're beautiful, and I've barely even looked at you! You must think I'm really creepy."

I laugh. "I'm just thinking about the blessings of the Goddess. I've read that the greatest blessing can seem like a curse, until it finds its purpose in your life. My next painting is going to feature a goddess, and I need to be in the right mindset for it."

"You really are beautiful," Hera's tone changes. "I don't think of you as a stranger. I've been seeing your paintings for months, ever since I started selling at the gallery. I always wondered about the painter, and now I feel like I've at least started to get to know you."

I feel some humor arising. This girl, so young, so vulnerable, so brazenly wanton yet at the same time with a certain innocence... it's the innocence that's trying to seduce me. And it's so unnecessary. If she were less innocent she would understand that by now.

Yet I'm a little out of my own element as well. I can say I've been with women. I tasted Sonia for the first time half a year ago, most recently this past Tuesday, and in her I feel true Goddess power. She's a figure of black sexual majesty, everything any man or woman could want, but maybe too much for most. She's perfection personified, and it would be easy for anyone to feel that they are not in her league, and they might very well be right. And Joanne, I experienced her for the first time on that same day, and she's sweet and joyful and horny and beautiful. I could spend hours making love to either one of them -- or both of them. But Sonia has Henri, and Jo has Joe, and while I wouldn't want them any other way, I can't say my experiences with them were in any way comparable to this private, one on one encounter with Hera, at once so forward yet hesitant.

Maybe not so hesitant. "Can I see your pussy? Please? I've been dying to look at it. It's part of my study. For art!"

We both giggle, but for reasons of our own, she at the apparent absurdity of the connection, and I at the familiarity. I had used the same rationale only two days earlier, when I had Taylor, Carl, Henri, and Joe all ejaculate into a jar so that I could incorporate their cum into my gesso mix. So far, it seems to be working.

I swing my leg over the bed, over her head, and pivot until my head is on the pillow. I lay on my back, legs spread as if for a gynecological exam with no stirrups. The atmosphere is anything but clinical. Hera positions herself between my legs, face so close to my pussy I can feel her breath. The anticipation builds, the juices are flowing, I can smell my cunt responding. I look downward between my legs, and I see Hera is indeed studying intently.

"Oh my god, it's so wonderful," she breathes. She inhales deeply, and sighs. I sigh, too. I feel a finger, tentatively, delicately, stroking along the swelling of my outer lips. "You're so smooth, I love a freshly shaved pussy!" In the midst of the growing fire within me, my memory delivers a picture of the painting in the gallery, the woman, laying upon a cot, spent, a dildo grasped in her limp hand, her pussy densely furry. It was Hera's girlfriend who had modeled. Had the adoration been less than complete before their breakup, maybe?

"I love how smooth it is, especially when you stroke it," I respond. "Your touch is so sensual!"

It's sensual, it's erotic, it's electric. She strokes, she caresses, she probes, my passion is growing, my pussy is beyond wet, it's leaking. Hera responds by gently licking, even slurping, my juices. I feel her tongue and her lips, along with her fingers. Very soon the individual sensations of touch become lost in a blur of pleasure that starts to well outward from my cunt throughout my body. When her fingers move forward, taking my nipples between them, it sends a jolt through me, and my hips spasm into her face. She laughs, then sighs, and resumes her assault on my pleasure centers.

My breathing deepens, turns to gasps, turns to groans, and then to involuntary animal grunts. She's definitely right up there with the best lovers I've experienced, with Sonia, with Jo, even Henri, Taylor, Carl, and Joe. She instinctively knows when to push, when to release, when to explore, when to concentrate on one needy spot. My first orgasm comes before I expect it, I'm hardly even aware of its building. I feel like all my breath is forced out by my long, loud, moans. But there's more beyond. She gives me maybe ten seconds to rest, and then begins her tongue-lashing from a new direction, avoiding for a moment my over-sensitized tissues, but letting me work into it again gradually. I usually like to keep my eyes open during sex, reading the look on my lover's face is part of my pleasure. But this is just too intense. The eyes are shut, the ears are shut down, all I'm aware of are the vast bolts of ecstasy that shoot through my body, into my brain, under my tongue, curling my toes, and helplessly spreading my fingers. I'm hoarse from my cries. It's only a couple of minutes, or maybe it's hours, there's no way to tell, when another orgasm, more massive, more overwhelming, more all-encompassing, rolls over me like a tsunami from which I will not run. She slows, gradually backs off, and I can hear my shrieks slowly dropping off into moans, into sighs, and finally into little mewling sounds of helpless delight that I don't ever recall hearing from myself before. It's then that the tongue on my cunt disappears.

"Hi, Mom," she says cheerily

My eyes snap open, I look down at her, and then follow her eyes to the bedroom door. A middle-aged, matronly looking woman stands there, leaning casually against the frame, smiling at me. Her hair is short and done up in a typical middle-aged style, her blouse is a conservative flower print, and she's wearing a set of causal jeans. My instinctive reaction is to try to cover myself, but Hera's fingers are still clasping my nipples, and her cheek, glistening with my smeared secretions, is resting on my thigh as she smiles in her mother's direction.

"Hi, I didn't mean to interrupt, you two just looked so beautiful there, and it's so good to see you happy again!"

She approaches and in the most surreal gesture I can imagine, extends her hand towards me. "Hello, I'm Hera's mother, Phoebe. I'm always thrilled to meet her friends."

Just as surreally, I wearily reach my hand up to clasp hers. Hera takes another casual lick to my clit, and I involuntarily thrust my hips up to meet her.

"You're fine, Mom. We were just getting ready to shift. How long were you standing there?"

"I came in at least two orgasms ago," she laughs. I happened to drive by the clay store, and I remembered you said you were low on the Grolleg Porcelain, so I picked up a box and dropped it by. I wasn't expecting you to be otherwise occupied, but it was hard to just ignore it and walk away."

"Mom!" Hera scolds. "You didn't have to do that! And that porcelain is expensive. Stop it! That store's all the way across town! What were you doing out there?"

"Shopping," Phoebe shrugs. "And now I'm interrupting. Sorry to bother you... Oh, I didn't get your name, honey?" she turns back to me.

"Tethys," I reply, as the total absurdity of this situation sinks further in. I remember less than a week ago, fucking Carl out in the open at Hippie Hollow, in front of Jo and Joe and dozens of strangers, and not feeling at all uncomfortable. And only two days before, a total orgy at my apartment with all my favorite people participating. It had been my first time doing something that wild, but it had felt totally natural. But to have my loud, screaming orgasms witnessed by a very sanguine mother of my lover, who then makes a casual compliment and introduction, this might take some getting used to.

"You're absolutely beautiful, Tethys. And what a beautiful name! It's Greek, isn't it?"

"Yes," I reply. "Like Phoebe. And Hera."

"It's almost like being home again!" Phoebe gushes. "Hera, I told you that the Goddess has blessed you with her gifts. Thank you for being here, Tethys!"

"Mom," Hera sits up on the bed. "Tethys was just getting ready to make love to me. Would you like to stay for a while and watch? Maybe we can visit over coffee afterwards."

"Are you sure you won't mind? Tethys, is that ok?" Phoebe sounds almost pleading. It's weird. Of course it's weird. But then, considering the trajectory my life has been on lately, maybe weirdness is inevitable.

"I don't mind," I offer, and considering everything I've experienced lately, I find to my surprise that I really don't. After all, just in the last week I've shifted the focus of my latest commission from a fairly conventional mermaid, to a Goddess figure. I've been imagining the Goddess more and more lately. And now here I am with a woman who claims to be a direct beneficiary of the Goddess, and her mother who embraces that view.

"I think it would be fun!" I add, and Hera leans over and gives me an enthusiastic kiss. I taste my juices on her lips, and add a gratuitous lick over her chin and cheeks. I taste good.

Phoebe sits down on one corner of the bed, and Hera lays back onto the already dented pillow. She spreads her legs, and I slip my fingers over her slippery lips.

"That's a pretty chain," her mother says, and Hera giggles. Instead of sliding my face between her legs, I lay on top of her, and began kissing her, repeated short soft kisses that gradually escalate into long deep full mouth and tongue, very wet kisses. I move around the rest of her face, covering it with kisses, until I've taken back most of the remnants of my own sex. I continue the kisses, supplemented with tiny nibbles and bites, down her throat, lingering around her collarbone, across her upper chest, down her sternum, and finally finding my way to each perfect breast. Her breath is coming in catches and gasps, and I hear gasps from her mother at the other end of the bed. At the same time, my finger has slid up into her wet folds, and deeper into the sacred goddess passages.

I linger there, passing my lips and tongue teeth between her breasts, exploring, gradually learning her sensitive spots, feeling her responses, and searching with my fingers for the magical places inside her. It's not at all difficult. She orgasms quickly and repeatedly, with gutteral exclamations of "oyi, oyi, aiiieeee, shit!" I glance at her mother, for a short second, and there is a smile on her face and tears in her eyes.

Finally, I'm ready to continue down and taste Hera's sacred liqueur. But I'm as aroused as I was before, and I selfishly want some more of her mouth on my pussy. I continue the trail of kisses down her belly, tonguing her navel as I go, until I pause on the soft, smooth mound between the "V" of her thighs. I remind myself of how much I love the feel, the texture, the taste, and even the aroma of a smooth-shaved pubic area, both on men and women. All of my lovers are shaved except Taylor, and although his patch is extremely soft and gentle, I suddenly think that I would prefer him shaved too. I decide to broach the topic at some appropriate time.

But now, I'm ready for some mutual pleasuring. I position my face directly between Hera's legs, and swivel my left leg up and over her face, so that she's now staring at my open, oozing cunt. Even with our height difference, the positions are completely compatible. Her mood is compatible too, and I feel the delicious sensation of her tongue once more exploring my crevasses as I explore hers. I grasp the chain dangling from her hood and gently tug upwards on it as I kiss and lick around the attachment point. I get exactly the reaction I hope for. It's sublime, it's relaxing, it's exciting. The only thing we can't seem to do is cum simultaneously. Whenever either of us arrives at the point of no return, we stop pleasuring our partner to gasp and moan and howl. I can't say it's a problem, though. We find our rhythm, alternating orgasms until we both have to stop and take a breather. I look at Phoebe. She's beaming.

"Wait, I have an idea!" the words come as gasps from Hera, and she wiggles out from under me. I let her go, a little reluctantly. She kneels up on the sheets, and reaches for a small shelf over the headboard. Pulling down a cloth bag, she rummages a little through it and pulls out a very realistic penis-shaped dildo. It's pink, stiff but soft, with molded bluish veins snaking across the shaft and an expanded head of soft foam under the smooth silicone surface. I have a couple of toys of my own at home, although I've used them much less since meeting Carl, and then Taylor, but I've never had anything quite so realistic, and quite so big. It would give Henri a run for his money.

Also, I've never used a dildo on another woman, or had another woman use one on me. This is another day in a week of many firsts.

"Lay back," she tells me, and I obey. It's no mystery what's coming next. She fishes a tube of lube out of the bag, and smears a bit on the tip of the synthetic cock, and then a little more over my clit and into my labia. I'm very much ready, and not convinced the lube is necessary, but it feels nice anyway as she slides her finger across my sensitive and very slippery tissues. I feel the head gently pushing at my entrance as she moves it slowly up and down, rotating it over the hood of my clit. She places it in again, and it slides through surprisingly easily. My vaginal muscles have been training for years, and I'm proud of the control I have over them. I can open or close them at will, allowing passage or denying it. Now I'm enthusiastically allowing it.

Hera bends over, and as the dildo continues deeper begins to flick her tongue over my clit just above it. The sensation of the dildo itself is nothing to write home about -- yet. It's not as warm as a real cock, and the texture is not quite real, and of course it lacks the attached body of man to hold, push and claw at, and one to grab and hold me as he thrusts. I close my eyes and imagine Taylor leaning over me, I breathe deep and smell his manly aroma, then it's Carl, thrusting eagerly, every muscle rippling, then Henri, slow and mellow, eyes shining, captivating me with his smile, and then Joe, moving with grace, and joy, and an assured knowledge of his ability to please. I imagine Sonia and Jo, purring, urging their men into me, helping with touches, kisses, and guiding pressure on the sliding cocks, pushing them to one side or another, or up, or down, or adding their own saliva to the combined secretions of us all.

But it's Hera who's here, and she's learning me fast, guided by my unconscious movements and moans. She's a worthy addition to the denizens of my imagination, and hopefully, to the group that I've so quickly become attached to. I open my eyes, and see Hera's expression of rapt attention as she works the cock in and out of me. It's starting to feel more real by the second. Just behind her to the left, I see Phoebe, leaning in, watching closely with the the same look of joyous curiosity. The family resemblance is striking.

A spasm of intense delight pulses through me, involuntary but welcome. I gasp an instruction. "A little higher! Push up on the head a bit... Ahhh, that's it!"

As she expertly follows my desire, the pulse of delight becomes a burning, raging inferno of happiness. My hips lift above the mattress, my belly tightens, and my breath comes out in what sounds like a roar. I've never roared before. Men roar. It may not be the most intense orgasm I've ever felt, but it's unique, it feels like I'm powering into it. My hips begin to spontaneously buck up and down, the my back arches, my legs kick out to each side, and I feel like I'm launching off the bed.

I don't get far, and bounce back, collapsing in exhaustion.

"Wow", I say, and that's all I could manage even after multiple gasping breaths. "I don't think it's the cock, I think it's the way you use it," I finally manage.

"She uses it so well," Phoebe interjects. "It's so... so lovely."

I glance at her and smile. There's a flush on her face, and a sheen of moister over her forehead, her cheeks, and her nose. She licks her lips, panting slightly.

"So, Mom, do you and Dad ever use dildos on each other?" Hera asks brightly.

Phoebe cocks an eyelid. "We have our toys," she admits. "But nothing quite that graphic. I prefer the real thing anyway."

"As do we all," Hera laughs, and turns to me. "In lieu of the real thing, are you ready to do me?"

"Oh yes," I respond, as my wind is returning rapidly. I'm looking forward to it.

"Don't bother to lube," she says, as she flops back onto the bed. "You've lubricated it well enough for all of us!"

She spreads her legs, and folds her arms behind her head. "Just plop it in. Hurry, I don't want any elaborate ceremony. Foreplay is complete. Fuck me!"

I had planned on a more artistic approach, but obviously now was not the time. I slide it in, it slips easily all the way to the fake scrotum hanging off the end.

"Pump it!", she orders, and I begin shoving it in and out of her squishy cunt, crudely maybe, but her breath is heaving.

"Mom," she gasps, "I've never watched you and Dad fuck. I think it would be beautiful. Can I watch some time?"