2 comments/ 8279 views/ 3 favorites Glass Rod of the Heat Pt. 01 By: RougeState So... she said when we were out of earshot, Katya and I hooked up last night. I gazed out at the river lolling greasily on its slick stone bed in the shaking heat. I think my half smile was a study in detached amusement, which still managed to avoid any affected coldness. Behind us, off the other side of the bridge, you could hear the indifferent roar of the old dam. Defunct, a place for kids to swim. We'd come there in the heat of the morning, the whole hot, hungry pack of us, to hang lazily off the rusted girders and drop ourselves into the green abyss, into that anonymous roar. The heavy, glassy water seemed to strip a feverish electricity off our skins. In the late afternoon, when the air cooled slightly, we'd mount our fleet of bicycles and go back to work. We were canvassing for an NGO all over the state. We'd been out in the sticks for three weeks. Tanya and I had hardly known each other before. When it was dark, past nine, and the pouplace grew suspicious of knockers, we'd knock off, fill out the day's paperwork in the smoky, buzzing light of the campground, and crawl exhausted or elated into tents, to sleep or seduce each other, as the heat dragged on into the night. Tanya was gay for the most part, Katya was not, but I wasn't surprised at the news of her liaison with my queer friend: she was undisputedly the beauty of the group. For my part I'd found myself thrown together with Tanya by a confluence of politics (we were both left-wing and saw the NGO, more or less, as a lesser-evil day job) and an odd, nostalgic affinity I had for her flower-child persona, which didin't seem affected or ironic. Tanya was a lot like the kids I'd grown up with in middle school: scrappy, quick-tongued, knobby-kneed, always wearing tiedye or batiked wraps, and so doggedly shoeless she could be seen scrubbing her pads down every night before slipping between her tent flaps. I'd hardly allowed myself to desire Katya, but had counted myself fortunate to have caught Tanya's eye the week before. I'd caught more than her eye, in fact: in the nylon-sheathed dark I'd caught her fingertips first, then her earlobe, lower lip, nipples, hipbones, inner-thigh tendons, toes, labia and clit between my lips and teeth; my tongue had traveled over the hot, dusty sites of her body: along the delicate blue veins in her neck, her collarbones, her vertebrae, the strong, high arches of her feet, the smooth, salty and electric inches from her sex toward her anus. When I hesitated she'd raised her splayed legs, hugged her knees up to her breasts, and pushed my head down in no uncertain terms, so I let my tongue slide all the way down to lap at the cinched pink ring. She'd made little gasps of pleasure, and moaned when I'd eased first a pinkie, then an index finger, then two and three fingers into her tightest entrance, which slowly opened onto its velvety, muscled tunnel. I wondered if she'd opened her ass to Katya like that, if they'd licked each other, if Katya'd slipped her tongue as I had between each of Tanya's slim, nimble toes. The nail of one of those toes ran gingerly up my ankle. I glanced down at the planks of the bridge's footpath, grey from wear and weather. Tanya's feet were tanned, bare as they nearly always were shen she wasn't swinging a hammer at camp, or working doors. That's cool? she said, almost not a question. You don't have to ask me, I said. I know; I just thought I should tell you. You two are hott, she giggled under her breath. Some of the younger canvassers, barely into undergrad, had lounged into our vicinity and were threading themselves lankily through the iron webwork of the bridge. They hung from the outside a moment, daring and ribbing each other, then jumped, with a whoop that the huge green yawn of the falls swallowed. Gee thanks, I said. We'd both paused to watch the kids jump. The delay made my formulaic response somehow funny. She's a looker all right, I added, then tacked on, Well played! All wingman congratulations. I didn't want to broach the topic of a threesome, even jokingly, as Tanya'd just yesterday been complaining about the thinly-veiled and unappealing propositions of a coworker in that direction. I didn't press the subject any further, but she seemed to want to keep talking about it. Yeah, she said, as if she'd left a sentence unfinished, so it was intense. She's, like, kissed girls but never really done things with them before. So I kept being like, is this cool, you sure you want to go this far... and she just kept being like, yes, yes, keep going. We... um, so like, we ate each other... she giggled again. I kept up the amused half-grin, all cool. And I was trying to, you know, figure out if she wanted me to, like, lick her asshole. Sounds familiar, I said, deadpan. She chuckled; I was surprised at the warmth in the sound. Mmm-hm, she purred, Only Miss Katya was not giving such clear signals as you got, my friend. I'm not sure she even knew what the fuck my tongue was asking her, you know? So I held off, and then later she just sort of ended up on her hands and knees, and, so... she giggled again, with what I thought was probably insincere shame. So I kind of really wanted to go there, you know, so I started just kissing down her back, and I found out she likes that, but... At this point Tanya's lurid story was interrupted by a larger and more boisterous group of compatriots, which included Katya. She was in the thick of the pointless uproar and convivial guffawing, but now she seemed to me set apart, not just by her beauty but by the truncated picture I'd just glimpsed of her hidden desires. However, I didn't hear any more about it until the next weekend. Glass Rod of the Heat Pt. 02 We were in the car on the way to that day's job site: another run-down ex-mill town we had to canvass for the NGO office. We'd been bitching about the stupid fundraising rap and about how "getting involved with the campaign" really meant "writing a check and getting back to your Times, your latte and your complacent bougie life," when, after a pause, Tanya cleared her throat and changed the subject to her involvement with a different sort of campaign: the seduction of our stunning co-worker, Katya. "So..." she began, as if she were being shy (which she never was). I knew immediately where she was headed. "You know how I told you about... me and-" "-Katya?" I finished her sentence. I ummm. Uh-huh," she purred, with an elaborate coyness that made me feel blushingly implicated in whatever revelation she was leading up to. "So we did, you know, what I wanted to do... anal play." "Oh yeah?" I chuckled, playing cool. "How'd she like it?" "Em, I think I converted her!" Tanya snickered. "So I had her doggy style, like I was saying last week when we were so rudely interrupted... and I'm like tongue-fucking her pussy, right-" "Do tell, my ears are perked" I drawled. "Not just your ears," she muttered, glancing pointedly at the bulge in my pants. "Keep your eyes on the road, tiger," I said. "OK, so anyway, my tongue's two inches into her twat and her asshole's, like, twitching right under my nose, you know, and I just kind of grab one of her ass cheeks and start edging my fingertips toward the lil' rosebud... and miss Katya's just moaning away when I just brush against it, like it could be unintentional, you know, and what's the little thing do but give me this involuntary shudder type response, so then like my heart rate's going up, and I start teasing her perineum ever so subtly with my tongue... and the little vixen reaches back and pulls her other cheek away, so I'm like, that's it, I am goin' in! and I just let my tongue wander up... Poor kid doesn't really acknowledge what I'm doing; I'm thinking, she's a first-timer for sure, I better just check in, so I start kissing up her back and whisper in her ear, 'You like what I'm doing to you baby-doll?' And she just gives me this heartbreaking little whimper... 'You wanna keep going?' 'Mmmm!' So I go right back at it, she starts wanking herself, my tongue's, like, in her asshole, and my God does that girl cum! Holy shit, you shoulda been there." Tanya looked at me rather pointedly, I thought. "I should indeed. But you know from experience how insecure I am around ravishing good looks... you don't suppose she'd have any interest in admitting me to the next ass exhibit, do you? "I'm not at all sure of that," Tanya said, "and personally I wanna see that little asshole take something bigger than my tongue..." "Maybe you better test-drive that on your own before we go taking other people's ass virginity." "I like the way you think, comrade," she said, and didn't say any more on the subject until we were on the way back to the city that night. "So are you coming over to put your dick in my ass or what?" I looked up from databasing the day's donors in shotgun, and switched the tablet off. We slid into a red light behind an SUV with "Rick Santorum" and various jingoistic slogans stuck to its rear end. "You mean my Rick?" Tanya cackled and grabbed the already-swelling bulge in my pants. Another SUV pulled up next to us, AutoTuned robot voices trilling something filthy and half-intelligible. A blonde sorority type was looking out the passenger window, down a storey or two into the cab of Tanya's Civic. "You got a fan," I said. Tanya looked over her shoulder at the blonde, then ducked down, pretending to fellate me. "Green light," I advised, and we sped off. We parked on the street and all but ran up the jerry-built back stairs. All cool professional pretense was gone. Tanya pulled me through the door and her tongue was instantly down my throat like some Hollywood seduction scene. I pulled away, laughing. "Whoa, there, how about offering a comrade a drink before you maul him?" We drank the whiskey neat on Tanya's futon mattress bed, some old blues record spinning lazily. Her phone chirped; she checked it, stroked some message into the soft keyboard, responsive to her desires as a longtime lover, then put it and her empty glass on the milk-crate nightstand. "Katya," she said. Told her I was busy but what's going on this weekend." "TGIF," I said, and darted in to bite her neck. We started slow, counter to early indicators of how the evening would unfold. The whiskey and the blues had slowed us down. Katya's text gave me the feeling this was just the beginning of something epic, and I was already wanting to savor and store up this incredible thing I'd stumbled into. So I took some liberties you don't take on a one-night stand, stroking Tanya's asymmetrical haircut and worrying her earlobes almost tenderly with my tongue. She purred and fluttered under my attentions, surprisingly feminine. Then that costume fell away and she was slamming me against the wall covered with rock posters, and tying my hands over my head with a sweaty bandana she kept looped round one wrist along with multiple out-of-sync men's watches. The metallic bezels of the latter were now dug into my throat as she bunched my hair in her fist and kissed me ferociously. We fucked so many different ways that night, it all blurs together now. But some impressions are burned into my sensorium like libidinal afterimages: Her nails dug into the small of my back, pulling my pelvis forward then shoving it back, up against the wall with my cock plunging deep into her throat, in total command even as she made herself gag on me. My tongue's route from her slit over the taut tendon of her inner thigh as she raised her leg & guided my mouth to her anus. Her fists bunching the covers as I stabbed my tongue deep inside her asshole; her fierce animal sounds as I pushed a spit-slick finger, then two and three, past her tight ring. The way she raised her foot & nudged my cheek with it, so that I raised my head from lapping her perineum & slid my tongue between her incredibly flexible toes, which flexed apart & tweaked my tongue, sensuous & intelligent as fingers. Her husky whisper, "I want you in me... no, in my ass," as she raised her haunches and opened herself with her hands. The slow entry, her little whimpers and "mm-hm, keep going" when I asked if she was okay. The moment when I painted "I'm gonna cum..." in her ear as her rectum squeezed my cock, & she whispered back "I wanna taste it..." so I pulled carefully out, holding it back, while she swung her body round to lie with her head beneath me where I knelt, and I let myself go over her parted, quivering lips, one strand of semen tracing her cheek and her upturned, delicately chiseled jawline, as she lapped the rest from the tip of my cock and I bent down to kiss her and share the salty, viscous lusciousness that filled her mouth. "God, that was amazing," she panted. "It was HOT when you kissed me with my mouth still full of cum... You know," she added, "I've always had this fantasy of, like, sharing a guy's cum with another girl—not like in those shitty pornos, you know, but like just kissing her and sharing it, like, savoring the moment... you know?" "Damn right I do," I said. "So when are we calling Katya up, huh?"