Trinity Ch. 02

We didn't disengage but lay there for some time in full sexual contact, his cock buried deep inside my cunt, and just talked. Our lips were almost touching and we breathed our words into each other. About everything, about our lives, about this situation, and about Paul. When his name came up, I felt a deep chill. I'd simply put him out of my mind for now, but he was back there, waiting for us. I'd have to think of some excuse before we got back.

"You know, Ela, he's kinky - I mean, really weird. He doesn't know how to look after a girl like you. He doesn't deserve you. You're too good for him. How long are you going to put up with his shit?"

I began crying.

"I love him. You just don't understand."

He kissed me gently.

"Well, like I told you before, he'll just get worse. If you can put up with the lifestyle, fine. But sooner or later one of you is going to get badly hurt."

"Don't you think this fling of ours - the three of us I mean - is just a one-off thing?"

"I wouldn't bet on it, babe," he said firmly. "Trouble is, he's got some deep problems, and you're not his shrink. Don't put up with it. Get out while you can. Come and hook up with me"

"I can't - not at the moment," I replied sadly.

"Well, that's up to you. But I gotta tell you this - somehow, from what I know, I don't think you guys are going to stay together for long. I don't think you're suited. If you do decide to make a go of it for a while, make it clear you won't take any more of his shit. Oh - and another thing..."

"What?"

"For fuck's sake don't tell him anything about tonight. What we did tonight is none of his business - it's between you and me only. He'll push you - but don't give in. He'll only give you endless bloody hell afterwards, got that?"

"Got it."

As we were talking, we made ourselves bob up and down from time to time. Then I felt something swell up inside me and he began gently thrusting into me. I had another desperate fit of the giggles. I was hopeless.

"Oh Jesus Christ!" I laughed. "I'd forgotten that goddamn thing was still in there."

We eased each other towards another smooth, powerful climax. I was getting the hang of this waterbed thing now. They're no good for hard, vicious fucks, but great for slow, smooth intense ones.

After a while we disengaged and each of us went for a piss, Rob first, then me.

When I got back he was standing in the middle of the room facing me as I came in, legs slightly apart, bare feet firmly planted in the soft carpet His arms were by his sides and his cock was stiffly erect again, almost pointing at the ceiling. Christ! Doesn't it ever just hang down? I asked myself. Was he born with a permanent hard-on? He was looking at me seriously, in a way I hadn't seen before.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Hey doll, are you a high-class hooker now or not?" he asked me sternly.

"Yes, totally. For you, for now," I said softly, lowering my eyes.

"Well then - you know the game. As I said, the client calls the shots. There's something I want you to do for me."

"What's that?"

"I want a blowjob, A proper one - if you know what I mean."

"You know I've never done that before."

"Well now's your chance. I've been your sex slave for over twenty-four hours, now it's your turn. Hookers must have given thousands of blowjobs right here where we're standing. You're one of them now - so give it to me."

And so I did. Why the hell not, after all that had already happened? No, this guy wasn't my husband, I probably wouldn't see him again after this weekend, but he'd been such a terrific lover I just wanted to keep part of him forever, I wanted this guy's cum to become part of me, that I would digest it and make it part of my flesh. My hooker fantasy had become real, but Paul would never, never know.

So I knelt down in front of him and carefully and lovingly gave a man a proper, terrific blowjob for the first time in my life. Just because I 'd never gone the whole way yet didn't mean I didn't know how to do it.

I looked up at him, then down at his cock. I placed my hands on his buttocks, drew my hand round over his hips, then grasped his cock and kissed it. I sucked at the end of it with my lips a couple of times, quickly, playfully, then gently drew back the foreskin. His dark, swollen mushroom was moist. For some moments I delicately licked it, gently pushing my tongue into the slit at the tip. He groaned. I felt the salty taste of pre-cum. Then my lips parted and I took his thick, dark mushroom deep into my mouth, sucking on it firmly. It filled my mouth completely. He gave a gasp, grabbed my hair and pulled me closer towards his crotch. My face brushed against his pubic hair. The smell was intoxicating. I reached for his buttocks, caressed them firmly, then ran my hands down his legs, right the way to his feet, drawing his cock downwards. I caressed his feet, ran my hands up again along his legs, then with one hand cupping his balls and the fingers of the other in his asshole, I began sucking more and more vigorously, drawing back slightly when necessary to avoid gagging whenever he thrust forwards. When I did this I would tease his glans with my tongue, running it up and down underneath, then tickling the tip.

"Fucking hell! This is great! This is great!" he grunted between thrusts.

He spread his legs wider apart, bending his knees and thrust slowly back and forth. I caught a glimpse of us in the mirror. Wow, what a sight! My crimson body with wild hair, kneeling before his dark one whose eyes were shut as he threw his head back and forth, grunting louder and louder.

"Here it comes, babe, here it comes. Get ready for it! Ah, babe, babe!"

His body stiffened and he pulled me roughly forward, twisting my hair as his thick mushroom began throbbing. I pressed my face into his belly as a warm gush of cum shot out into my mouth and squirted down my throat. Desperate not to choke, I began gulping it down as fast as I could, gently squeezing his balls as he ejaculated so I could draw out as much spunk as possible. A bit like liquid yogurt I thought, but warm and faintly salty. Christ! How much of the stuff did this guy have in him? I didn't spill a drop. He gently eased off and I released his cock with a light 'pop'. Then I stood up and kissed him with all the passion I could muster.

We released each other. He grasped my shoulders and gazed into my eyes.

"Well, if that was your first time, all I can say is: hey, you're a natural. I think you're the sexiest girl I've ever had - a real first-class love machine. You've a magic gift, you know that?"

"And you, pal, are one hell of a stud!" I said slowly, deeply and softly as I returned his gaze.

I lost count how many times we did it after that. He gave it to me doggy-fashion for the first time in my life, I rode him a couple of times (the bed was good for this, but you can't control the rhythm too well) plus a couple of other positions I'd never thought of - but I know about them now all right. He was absolutely fucking insatiable. My memory of the rest of that evening is just a confusion of crimson and dark brown bodies squirming, twisting and turning around on that waterbed. I think I bit him pretty good. He had marks on his neck and shoulders, and there were traces of blood on the coverlet. I didn't want to hurt him - just eat him up.

Our grand finale was a terrific sixty-niner. He went down on my cunt (God! his tongue felt as long as his cock), then sucked at my clit so strongly I though it would soon match his cock in size. I took the full force of his cock from below. I remember his asshole bobbing up and down above my face and his heavy balls swinging back and forth as we twisted from side to side. He did a great job on me as we bobbed up and down. I almost burst apart as I came and had to be careful not to bite his cock off - that wouldn't have done us any good at all! With a long 'mmmmmmm' I concentrated on gulping down the terrific load he shot into me again. Where did it all come from? He must have some kind of invisible, inner pipe connecting him to a sperm bank, I thought. Yes, that must be it.

After that one we were totally, utterly, completely shagged out. We lay side by side for about ten minutes, holding hands, our legs and feet entangled. I felt myself drifting off to sleep.

With a start, I shook myself awake. I looked at him. He was far gone, sleeping that delicious sleep of the 'just after'. I got up and went to check my watch, which I'd kept in the pocket of my jeans.

"Oh Jesus H. Christ!" I screamed, jerking him violently awake. "It's half past fucking eleven! Paul must be going fucking bananas! Come on, let's get the hell out of here!"

We pulled our clothes on somehow and I dragged him back to our apartment. Thank God the elevator was empty - a delicious, pungent smell of sex filled it as we went up. Oh damn! I'd left that fucking G-string behind in that room. Never mind. It'd served its purpose. Some other sister can have it. Share and share alike.

"God! We stink," I said, giggling. "I hope Paul doesn't notice."

"Remember what I said - not a word."

I'd taken a good swig of vodka before we left, in case Paul kissed me and tasted the fresh cum in my mouth.

He was a disaster when we came back. He must have been sitting there, drinking and crying for the last four hours. I was crushed, devastated. The enormity of what I'd done to him hit me at that moment. There was no point making excuses. There was no use hiding it. He wormed it out of us - at least, where we'd been, what the place was and the fact we hadn't exactly been playing tiddlywinks. But something perverse inside me made me mention the waterbed. I don't know to this day why I had to go and do it. He seemed totally crushed by this.

Then he wanted a replay of the previous night's session. No way. We were completely shagged out. But he insisted - he wanted to see exactly what we had done together. Well, there was no way Rob and I were going to do that in any detail, but we consented to let him watch us fuck each other just once more.

So we stripped and Rob and I got it on again - classic mish. It was more like a professional sex show really, like in one of those Amsterdam sex clubs. We were so well attuned by now we had no problem easing each other to joint climax as a matter of course. This must have burned Paul up inside, but I couldn't help myself. I tried not to think of him watching us, and even harder not to think of what he must have been feeling. I think he got off again by jacking off over our bare feet.

Then he wanted to have sex with Rob. I knew Paul was bisexual. I think he was trying some sort of role-reversal, trying to pretend to be me. Rob was cool about this, so he obediently lay on top of Paul and jerked Paul off between his thighs. I thought I'd help Paul's attempt at role-reversal by kissing and caressing their four bare feet, just as he'd done before. I did it for his sake. I wasn't altogether turned on by the sight of them both - I was too shagged out really, and I dreaded lest Paul would want to fuck me as well - I was too conscience-stricken to enjoy that right now. Thankfully, we all decided to call it a night. Paul didn't want Rob sleeping with us, so Rob settled down in the spare room. Paul and I slept side by side. I wore my panties, which I never usually did unless I was having my period. We didn't touch each other.

In the morning, I could sense Paul was still furious. He wanted to wake Rob at once and boot him out, but I wouldn't let him. After all, Rob had come here and 'serviced' us at our request. And a great job he'd done of it too - he deserved at least some consideration. I went to the spare room and woke him gently, kissing him and stroking his hair. He awoke and began to respond, but at that moment Paul came in. He looked like a gargoyle.

We ate breakfast, laced with liberal shots of vodka, then Rob left. Before he did, he took out a couple of extra bottles he'd brought, but had left at the apartment the previous night. He told us to keep them.

"I think you two are gonna need it," he said with a trace of contempt as he walked out. I was so stung, I almost wept.

That was the end of the encounter as far as I was concerned. But it had changed us both forever. From then on things would never be the same. I felt a twinge of regret for the past - for what Paul and I had shared together - but on the whole I felt really great. It had been a terrific experience and now, immediately afterwards, I felt more buoyant, alive, electric, sexy, more 'wanted' than ever before. I felt I'd somehow escaped from some kind of box - a sweet, pink, fluffy box - but stifling. The city looked radiant when I walked through it, full of sexy men - and women - I'd somehow not noticed before. I could feel it when I turned them on, and had no qualms now about giving them 'the eye'. I was up and ready for anything.

But I didn't want our marriage to end. I still loved Paul - maybe more than ever - and thought that now we'd fulfilled our fantasies, we could put it all behind us and get on with our lives. But no, it was no good. He kept needling me about that Saturday night and I just wasn't having any of it. I knew he was real upset about the waterbed so I'd taunt him with it - just a little - without revealing anything, just to shut him up. After a while it worked. Maybe this was cruel, but it was my only self-defense against his prying, his fucking mind games and his later behaviour - of which more soon. I remember I completely lost it at one point and swore at him - something I'd never done to him before. He was also shocked that my sexual vocab had permanently shifted from 'med' level to street level. Get used to it pal, I wanted to tell him, that's part of the 'new way'.

So then he went and started screwing that student of his - the long, skinny, dark-haired chick I mentioned before, the one I was jealous about. To this day I can't ever be sure if he did this just to get back at me, or whether he'd planned the whole threesome thing just to have an excuse to have it off with this chick. As it turned out, the whole thing backfired. My response to what I felt was a far deeper betrayal on his part resulted in some really bizarre twists - especially in view of our previous 'teasing games'. But again, that's the next part of the story.

I didn't want to see Rob again. He was a jerk - a sexy, well-hung jerk, which is why I wanted him at the time - but a jerk all the same. That's why I didn't feel bad about him. He'd done so much for me sexually I felt kind of grateful, but there's no way I'd 'hook up' with someone like that. Anyway, I was sure he was already busy banging other grateful chicks up in that room and elsewhere, and that he'd forgotten about me by now. This last bit wasn't exactly true as it turned out - but yet again - that's another story.

So Paul and I eventually split and he went back to Europe. I've done really great here meantime, I'm very busy and I've got a fairly high-profile social life. I haven't remarried, nor do I really want to. Truth is, I still miss Paul and somehow can't commit to anyone else right now. I realize now how badly I must have hurt him, but he's got some other destiny somewhere out there these days - some bizarre, alien one, I think. Somehow he was never really part of the world the rest of us live in.

Life's full of adventure for me anyway, at least for the moment, and I prefer to keep it that way. I'm no longer a 'chick', but a bird of prey, like Rob was. I mend hearts for a living, then break 'em again in the bedroom or out on the street. I cut people up both ways, physically in the OT - for their own good - and emotionally out there - maybe also for their own good. I don't feel I'm to blame for all this. Besides, where would more stories come from? I carry my own legacy of pain - we can't repair what's done - but I feel I've come through something big. Maybe Crowley's right. I do feel like a star now, but a flawed one. Maybe he's also right about the 'word of sin' and 'restriction'. You'll find out soon enough.