Rainbow Symphony On Tourbypucksboy©
(This story will stand alone without reading Rainbow Symphony first. A synopsis of prior events is woven into the early paragraphs. This tale involves a father-daughter relationship and a female-female encounter. It contains a variety of sexual situations. Please pass this story by if this is not in your area of interest. I thank several readers whose feedback inspired much that this story contains)
Eric Sorensen hit the garage door opener on the sun visor as he cruised down the road toward his house. He stopped at the mailbox, grabbed the contents and turned into the driveway. The automatic outdoor floods instantly illuminated the front yard and garage. The interior of the house remained dark. Those warm signs of home life had been absent since Karin left for the graduate school in the northeast. That was September, two months ago.
He was downright lonely. Until she was gone, he had no idea of how much he would miss her. Eric's beautiful daughter had slowly matured into a remarkable image of her late mother. She was a statuesque flaxen haired beauty. This hometown girl was as modest as she was stunning, a picture of sweet innocence.
Sitting at the piano bench during recitals at Moorhead State, the spotlight on her, she presented a striking silhouette. Her blond hair cascaded down onto her shoulders. Her bosom flowed smoothly beneath her blouse, her erect nipples marking the center of each breast. Her flat stomach accentuated her narrow waist. From beneath her short skirt, shapely silken thighs led to smooth calves, which met tiny feet, resting on the piano's foot pedals.
Eric had hoped Karin would do her advanced studies here in Minnesota at Moorhead State. But it was hard to justify turning down a scholarship at an Ivy League school. Father and daughter had had a brief discussion about choices, but this was a no brainer. The advantages of the move far outweighed the selfish benefits of keeping the family together for a bit longer.
He pulled the Jeep Wrangler into the garage, hopped out and walked to the kitchen door. As he entered, he was greeted by a melancholy "sound of silence". Simon and Garfunkel's lyrics had gotten the feeling of loneliness just about right, Eric thought. The hum of the refrigerator and the soft sound of warm air venting through the floor registers only accentuated the absence of human sounds.
Until two years ago, his family lived an idyllic life here in Northern Minnesota. Then came the dramatic change.
Eric had a developed a good business as a hunting and fishing guide. Theirs was a fly-in, fly-out service geared to an upscale clientele. It was tough work developing a following. He and his wife, Anneke worked hard, turning first time clients into faithful regulars. Eric was an excellent guide. Whether it was large and small game hunting, or winter ice fishing for big walleyes or lake trout, Eric almost always delivered a quality experience for his clients.
Anneke was a licensed pilot and also worked the hospitality end of the business. She did wonders with simple ingredients cooked over a wood burning camp stove, and was a skilled bartender at the evening pre-dinner get-togethers.
They made many single client trips, male and female. These were well-heeled executives getting back to nature, away from computers and cell phones for a few days.
Along with game finding know-how, Eric and Anneke, or Annie, as everyone called her, was a dynamic couple on another level. They were tall slim blonds of Nordic descent, looking more like brother and sister than husband and wife. They were both in their thirties when they began the business. Now in their early forties, they shared those rugged good looks that only outdoor living can provide.
Eric was muscular with a slim waist. His tight jeans encased powerful legs and a high rising well rounded butt. His torso displayed a powerful chest and tight abs through a snug t-shirt. Rough-cut denim cloth at his crotch could not fully disguise the powerful equipment beneath.
Annie had an athlete's body, with long slim legs, boyish hips with just a hint of feminine flair. She carried an ample bosom well, and usually wore t-shirts and sweaters that accented this feature.
Both were easygoing and had a practical attitude toward modesty. In close quarters, living in tents for up to a week at a time, shyness was not a virtue. On hunts, important body functions were not easily performed privately. Quick clothing changes due to weather conditions occurred often in wide-open fields. Because of Eric and Annie's open nature, regulars usually left their reserve at home and loosened up considerably. By the second day out, body exposure became commonplace.
Occasionally, a guest would make a sexual overture to one or the other. These weren't crude requests, but quiet offers, made with small gestures or eye contact. Eric and Annie would confide these incidents to each other in the double sleeping bag in their tent at bedtime. Neither liked the idea of separate liaisons away from each other. But in the close quarters of a small camp in the wilderness, they decided that with the right person, a threesome could become a possibility. Eric and Anneke were comfortable enough and secure in their marriage to consider this option. They felt that they could turn this prospect into an exciting reality.
Once decided, the option of a threesome with the right female came easily. A small dark haired beauty named Yvonne hired the Sorensons for a week of small game hunting in the wilds of northern Minnesota. A high-powered lawyer with an HMO, she left her husband baby-sitting the kids for few days to relax in a stress free environment. One night, a northern storm swept down from Canada. The air chilled quickly. The tent shuddered in the wind. The tent poles creaked. Yvonne felt lonely and vulnerable. She unceremoniously moved in with Eric and Annie. Soon the three of them were cuddled together in a two-person bag. Yvonne sandwiched herself between her hosts. What followed created all the warmth Yvonne had sought ...and more.
The male guests could be different. Most of them approached Anneke suggesting a private liaison after the trip was completed. Anneke politely declined, but acted flattered at the offer. There was no point in agitating a paying customer. Eric and Annie had decided it would be a threesome or nothing.
This new element added an occasional bit of spice to their trips, and actually drew this already devoted couple even closer.
It was then that their fortunes took a fateful turn. On a Sunday morning, one of the hunters in a party of four had an emergency call and had to return to Minneapolis immediately. Eric stayed with the rest of the group in camp. Annie flew off with the single client. The plane didn't reach Minneapolis.
No clear-cut cause of the crash was ever fully determined. The plane had plummeted nose first into a newly plowed cornfield. There was no fire. The impact was enough to kill the two on board instantly.
Insurance covered the cost of the plane and the client lawsuit. Life and business resumed within a month. There was a brief period of shock and mourning. Father and daughter held together remarkably well. Eric knew he had to stay focused. Karin needed security and stability in her life.
At least they had each other.
After Karin left for the northeast, a pall of loneliness blanketed the Sorenson house. At work, Eric seemed unchanged, perhaps a bit more reserved. He performed his duties well and pleased his clients as usual. When he was alone, away from camp, Eric retreated into solitude. He drew within himself, conjuring up twenty-five years of memories, daydreaming. When he was home most evenings, he dug out old photos and family videos, reliving the good times.
He had shopped all day for provisions for the upcoming winter fishing season. After unloading the Jeep, he entered the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. Eric settled into a wooden chair and put his supper on the table. It was an Italian sub he had bought on the way home. He popped the lid on the can of beer and took a swig.
There was a small pile of mail to sort. He rifled through the pack, separating the junk mail and tossing it to one side. There were a few bills and a couple of business inquiries.
Eric picked up a printed post card. It was a reminder from Karin's school of the upcoming concert at Moorhead State. The Professor of Music had fitted in a visit to Moorhead for the concert orchestra at Karin's graduate school. This was the first time this small State college would have the honor of hosting such a renowned ensemble.
Eric knew from e-mails that Karin and Mai Chang, her professor and conductor of the orchestra had become close friends. She was sure this relationship had something to do with the choice of Moorhead as part of the tour.
He had received a few e-mail photos of Madam Chang, Karin and a black African foreign student posing together. The black student was a cellist in the orchestra. The conductor was obviously Asian, probably Chinese. It pleased Eric that his daughter was able to make friends with young people from such diverse backgrounds. In the Sorenson's hometown, there were few blacks or Asians in the local population.
Karin was to be soloist in the first piece. Mai Chang had chosen Edvard Grieg's piano Concerto in A Minor. Grieg was a national hero in Norway. People of Scandinavian descent everywhere revered the composer. Playing Grieg in northern Minnesota could be likened to featuring Wynton Marsalis at the Apollo Theater in Harlem. This choice was a guaranteed crowd pleaser.
As he read and reread the card, a smile broke through on his lips, the first in a long time. His sweet daughter was coming home, and on a triumphant visit. She and Mai Chang would be staying with him in his and Karin's own home. It excited him beyond words. His naïve, innocent daughter and her mentor, a talented and obviously adorable little Asian lady would be spending all their off hours with him.
He would stock up on the local foods that Karin surely missed. There would be smoked trout, and fresh caught whitefish. He would buy fresh blueberry muffins, Minnesota's favorite breakfast treat. There was already some Aquavit in the cupboard. Scandinavia's answer to vodka was a guaranteed icebreaker.
Had Mai ever had Spam? He would ask.
What else would he need to make them comfortable? He would think about it.
Unfortunately, their other friend, the black cellist, was off on an internship in Philadelphia, studying with a group of West Africans. He had been looking forward to meeting him.
"Well", Eric thought, "I'll just have to be a temporary stand-in for Zach in this trio of close friends."
A wicked thought flashed across his mind. As quickly as it appeared, he attempted to erase it.
He cautioned himself. "Don't go there...ever."
But the notion lingered.
Karin and Mai were sitting side by side on the sofa in Mai's office. As Chair of the Music Department, as well as the conductor of the school orchestra, it was Mai's job to choose the members of the tour group. Some students were off on internships with other school orchestras. But most stayed in town, preferring to study under Mai Chang's baton. There were enough quality musicians still around to make up a fine ensemble for the brief tour.
Spread out on the coffee table in front of them was a spreadsheet of the orchestra setup, indicating each chair with a square. Mai and Karin inserted musician's names in the few empty slots.
"We'll sure miss Zach" Mai said.
He was the ensemble's star cellist. There were others to fill the slot. But none could take Zach's place in the ongoing threesome that had developed between Mai, Karen and himself. A small silent flirtation that had started between Mai, the conductor and Zach, the cellist blossomed quickly. This was mostly due to the clever manipulation of Karin Sorenson. This angelic appearing concert pianist was in fact a talented master engineer. Fanning the flames of their animal hunger, she set up a clandestine meeting between the two, fostering a sensual romance which neither had the will to resist. Once she had wangled them into a state of sheer lust, intense fucking between the two easily ensued. At the height of their mindless fornication, she easily inserted herself into the mix.
After two months of frequent rendezvous, they shared the most creative sex any of the three could have imagined.
Now "the cock had flown the coop".
"Maybe the break will do us good."
Karin didn't really mean what she said. It was a mechanical response. They had enjoyed sharing that fantastic stud that possessed a huge and talented piece of equipment. His endurance was remarkable. His cock never seemed to quit.
Yet they also enjoyed the shared feminine lovemaking that was part of the mix. Each woman had learned how to enhance the orgasm of the other. As male and female worked toward their peak each woman knew instinctively which button to push, and exactly when to push it. They knew where to touch, where to kiss, where to place a tongue. In this small office, where the three often met, muffling their cries of ecstasy was a major effort.
Zach was gone only a day, and they already missed their fuckmaster.
Mai was crestfallen. "I got so used to it, the whole scene. It was so nice, so uncomplicated....so comfortable."
Karin thought about the first time they connected. "Yeah, it was easy once we got going, wasn't it?"
Mai spoke quickly. "It was you that got it going. I owe you so much. I never knew how intense and hot great sex could be." She was silent for a moment.
Then, " Wouldn't it be wonderful to have a first experience with a new sexy guy? The first time was the best. The rest were all good, but I haven't come four times in one session since that first threesome."
"Anyone else in the orchestra appeal to you, Madam Chang?" Karin asked, switching to Mai's formal title in jest.
Mai allowed a nervous chuckle to escape her lips.
"One Romeo in the group is enough to keep track of. One more in the mix could be become British farce, with people running around from one dorm room to another, slamming doors and hiding in closets."
Karen joined in the mirth and laughed softly. She put her arm round Mai's shoulder and gave her a hug. She started to kiss Mai's cheek when Mai turned her head and crushed her mouth against Karin's.
A muffled "Mm-mm" escaped from Karin's mouth, and then was silenced as Mai's tongue passed through Karin's parted lips. Her tongue reached for the tip of Karin's. Mai immediately tasted that combination of sweetness and salt in Karin's mouth. Although she had savored it before, it always came as a new surprise. She sucked Karin's saliva into her own mouth with a slurping sound, moaning as she did so.
Mai's belly felt hot. Her crotch began to itch. She felt lubricating juices seeping out of her pussy. The outer lips puffed.
"Ohh-h-h." She murmured, squeezing her thighs together.
Mai knew that the "sounds of sex" excited Karin, and so she embroidered her responses, sucking loudly and groaning into Karin's mouth.
Karin loved kissing Mai. She remembered their first kiss, with Karin being the aggressor and Mai the submissive one. Over time, Mai had learned "her lessons in love" well. Karin leaned her head against the sofa and pulled Mai's head against hers. Their mouths crushed together leaving no open space between their lips. A scent of spices and flowers wafted into Karin's nostrils, intoxicating her. It was Mai's cologne.
Mai pushed her tiny breasts against the fullness of Karin's bosom. Karin inhaled sharply through her lips, vacuuming Mai's tongue into her mouth. She swirled her tongue rapidly up and around Mai's. She licked the underside of Mai's tongue in a fluttering motion.
Through her closed mouth, Mai responded with the sounds of her intense pleasure. Karin reached down between Mai's legs. She lifted the front of her plaid skirt. Her fingers crept along Mai's thighs, spreading them as she pushed her wrist between them. She found the doubled cloth of the crotch pad on Mai's panties and pulled it to one side. Karin's fingers groped through the thick black hairs over Mai's pussy. The thatch was damp and sticky with pre-cum.
Mai grabbed at the hair behind Karin's neck, filling her fingers with Karin's flaxen strands. Mai's thighs opened and closed over Karen's hand in anticipation of what was to come. Karin's middle finger found its mark. The finger slipped easily through the moist outer lips and slid up to the top of Mai's crease, finding the clitoris. He fingernail slid across the nub.
"Ai..hh!' A muffled scream of pleasure came from Mai's throat through clenched teeth.
Karin felt the first small quiver within Mai's pussy that preceded a small orgasm. Karen had remarked once that Mai was a "machine-gun girl." Mai seemed sometimes to be insatiable, climaxing several times in quick succession until reaching the final throes of the Big O.
As Karin fingered Mai, she continued to inhale the smell of Mai's personal scent, the taste of her mouth and the texture of her tongue. She was grooving, becoming more animated as she began a rhythm of massage within Mai's honey pot. Her fingers knew the drill. They had been here before. Karin bent her finger and hooked it just inside the upper part of Mai's crease. She locked her finger in the fold and began a systematic rubbing against Mai's clit.
Mai's animated growls and mewing of delight, signaled her progress toward the final contractions of total release. Mai's crotch responded with little thrusts against Karin's manipulations. Mai's movements grew more rapid. Mai's fingers in Karin's hair groped and quivered as she felt mini-orgasms pulsate within her pussy. Then came the time that Karin knew Mai was ready. She also knew how uncontrollable Mai could be when she started her final thrusts.
Karin laid her whole hand against Mai's crotch and inserted another finger into Mai's vagina, like a mini penis. Mai had a very small cervix, which couldn't accept much more than just the head and an inch or so of a penis. Karin's fingers worked wonders in the small space. Mai raised her ass to meet Karin's hand. Karin realized she needed to exercise more control.
She moved her body over Mai's, pinning her ass to the sofa. All the while, both women continued kissing and tonguing. Karen's own excitement elicited unconscious little moans from her own mouth. These new sounds sent shivers through Mai's entire body. Mai began to emit a series of muffled cries and whimpers. In turn, Karin responded with increased passion, playing her fingers in Mai's pussy like a musical instrument. She worked her way in and around the sticky, well-soaked opening, seeking just the right spot to achieve the best result.
Mai's slowly turned a primal creature, mindlessly seeking release from the increased pressure and contractions in her pussy. She broke away from the kiss and began panting heavily. Guttural sounds escaped from deep within her throat.
Each stroke of Karin's fingers brought a response.
"Uggghh....ugghh..." Then, "Fuck me...fuck me...fuck...fuck."
Karin cautioned, "Shh, Mai. Hush."
She knew the warning was fruitless. She just hoped no one passing in the hall heard them.
Mai's psyche left this world. She imagined her cervix held a pool of lubricant. A huge beautiful man, muscular, strong and virile was gently bending over her. She looked between his legs. She watched his limp penis swell as it filled with blood. It elongated and grew in girth. The helmet of his prick glowed red, then purple, and then crimson. The cock was now huge. She spread her legs. His massive machine hovered above her crease, pushing against the outer lips. It slowly slid in through Mai's ever-widening gap. The cock seemed to move almost endlessly into her body, finally sinking its full length up to the hilt.