1 comments/ 30673 views/ 0 favorites Drums By: voluptuary_manque This is the second installment of the story that begins with 'Bells'. It contains premarital, extra-marital, interracial, incestuous, oral, and anal sex with intimations of bisexuality. If you are offended by such goings-on, go read something else. However, if you enjoy this little fantasy, do please let me know. If you have suggestions for improvement in whatever next chapter there might be, I welcome them. My thanks go out to Istanbulnoir for editing this story's predecessor, to Varian P and MJL for advice and my especial thanks to those of you who made favorable noises about my previous efforts. And now, may I present . . . Drums: The Gathering's Novices Advance Victoria Smyth-Jefferson lay back on the sofa, her right hand idly stroking the front of her husband, Charles', Armani trousers. Without lifting his eyes from the law journal he was reading, Charles spread his knees to give her better access and continued to examine the review of his most recent case. There were numerous interesting aspects to it from the corporate law point of view and it had been, of course, satisfactorily remunerative. Their interplay was interrupted by the ringing of the nearby telephone. Mrs. Smyth-Jefferson extended her other hand and lifted the phone off its cradle. When the caller ID showed that it was their daughter, Deserea, on the line Victoria smiled, activated the 'talk' function and answered, "Des, dearest, how are you? And how is the training coming?" Deserea giggled in response, "Pretty good on both points, I think. Last night I was riding Mr. McAllister and Sonya timed me at a full 4 minute orgasm. They're both sure that I'll be over 10 minutes by the next Gathering. And my vaginal muscles are a lot stronger, even though I'm always sore. I can't jerk Mac off with them yet, though, so that may take another month." Victoria burst out laughing. "Deserea, even I can't get him off that way. The only woman I know who can is Sonya and she has muscles like steel cables. Professional dancers get that way, you know. I'm willing to bet that any other man in the Gathering will happily succumb to your ministrations, probably several times before you tire. I must tell your father; he'll be so proud of you. And speaking of such things, I'm happy to announce that Justin nearly had his first double climax yesterday. I'm sure that he would have succeeded but it was such a surprise to him that he forgot to open his eyes when he came and filled the condom, instead. I'm giving him a night to recover and recharge but by the Gathering, I've no doubt that he'll be ready for you. Might I suggest that you have some lubricant near at hand? We wouldn't want to have you rubbed raw too early in the evening." There was a long pause, as though the girl on the other end was getting up her courage for the next sentence. "Uh, mother, about Justin . . . you're all planning on marrying me to him, aren't you?" She wasn't sure whether to dread the expected answer or to swoon over it. "Are we?" came the non-committal response. If Victoria hadn't had the foresight to marry the sharpest legal mind in the state, she could have made a fortune of her own at high-stakes poker. The silence thickened. "Well . . . he and I are the only unmarried members of the Gathering, except for Master Harold, of course, and once we're both fully adept and ride the Wave together, we'll be in love, just like I am with all the rest of the men. It just seems logical, I think, but . . . " "Does it?" Victoria was staying non-committal over the phone but her right hand was telling her that it wouldn't be too long before she would have to commit to something. Charles might appear to be engrossed in his reading but blood was rapidly flowing away from his brain and into a much more entertaining part of his anatomy, at least from his wife's point of view. "Mother, you're playing with me!" Now Deserea was getting irritated. She wasn't sure whether she would be offended or relieved if her betrothal was real but she was definitely not happy about being kept in the dark. She had to admit, though, that the last time her mother had deliberately not told her what was going on, things had turned out wonderfully. Her sexual initiation at the university had been so dismal that her parents had stepped in and introduced her to their Tantric Gathering. The result had exceeded her wildest and most erotic dreams. Men her father's age were multi-orgasmic, able to maintain their erections for hours and quite delighted to do so, especially inside of her. All the wives, including women she thought she knew, were equally lubricious and just as happy to engage each other as they were to delight the men, either individually or in groups. She especially remembered dancing to the ring of the belled jewelry they all wore. The men pounded their partners in a steady rhythm while Deserea danced and her high school English teacher was spit-roasted, mouth and ass, by her father and an enormously tall (and well-hung!) member of the Swedish consular staff. It had been quite an instructive night. "All right, Mother, if you're going to be coy I'll just hang up and go to bed!" Sometimes, it seemed, she could only hope that mothers really did know best. Victoria hung up with a lazy, sensual smile on her face. Justin was in bed, as well, so she had all night and Charles all to herself. The possible son was fit, virile, extremely cute in a sandy-haired, freckly sort of way and, once multi-orgasmic, would make as fine a choice to sire grandchildren as any mother could want. The memories of his member inside her brought tingles to her womanhood. On the other hand, however much she might love her extended "family" her official husband was the real center of her life and now she was going to remind him of that. Unzipping the silk caftan she had put on after supper, she stood up, shrugged it off her shoulders and then dropped naked onto her knees before her man. Feeling his wife slip off his Gucci loafers and socks, Mr. Smyth-Jefferson put a bookmark in his reading and slid his hips farther towards the edge of the sofa and closer to his beloved wife's lips. More important things than work were in the offing. She undid his belt, trouser button and zipper with practiced ease, hooked her fingers under the waistbands of both outer and underwear and with a quick tug whisked him into half-nakedness. His fat, proud phallus bounced up before her. Grasping it lovingly, she opened her mouth wide and slid her tongue down the underside while engulfing the head. Slow steady strokes with her right hand joined the suction and her eager tongue as she worked him into greater arousal and an even harder erection. Sucking and bobbing her head, running his cock against the inside of her cheeks and clear down her throat, Victoria next slid her left hand under Charles' scrotum and gave it a gentle squeeze then pushed farther under him, her long-nailed forefinger aimed naughtily at his anus. She heard him gasp as she rimmed him, considered attempting to insert her finger inside then thought better of the idea. The human rectum is tender and she definitely didn't want to spoil the mood by hurting him with her claws. Instead, she teased him with nibbles up and down the underside of his manhood and slow, firm pulls on his balls that stretched his scrotum and delayed his orgasm. She flicked her tongue quickly back and forth across the frenum underneath the dark head of his cock and smiled to herself at the resulting appreciative moan. Then, as Charles began deep breathing to work himself into a higher and yet higher state of arousal, his wife hummed and purred sending the vibrations up the nerves of his penis through his spine and finally to his brain where they exploded in the kind of dry orgasm all men of the Gathering were expert at. Eventually, she released her grip and sat back on her heels. "Now!" she exclaimed laying her caftan over the Nakashima coffee table. She clambered up onto all fours, spread her knees wide and arched her back to push her swollen, bare labia and engorged clitoris out towards him. They glistened wetly with her juices. "Mmmmgrrreow!" she growled, watching him throw off the remnants of his clothing, take his saliva-covered cock in one hand, aim it home and with the other hand on her hip, thrust deep into her waiting love canal. "Mmmmf!", came the simultaneous grunts. Victoria thought that there simply could not be a better feeling in the entire world than the fullness she got when penetrated. A hard man was, indeed, good to find. Even better was the thought that with her husband she could ignore the Gathering's strict conventions about safe sex and enjoy being ravished bareback. Tied tubes prevented any surprise additions to the family and allowed the luxurious slipping and slurping of flesh-on-flesh love. Charles' dark belly slapped against her caramel butt. "Fill me, honey," she moaned "I want to drip and ooze when you're done." She began to pant as his pace increased, timing her arousal so that they would climax together. Quickies were rare in the Smyth-Jefferson household and the novelty of the idea made Charles tighten his grip on her hips to both pull and thrust ferociously in and out of her. The body-on-body slaps could have been heard clear up the stairs to where Justin slept if he had been awake. (And if he had been awake the sight of his possibles mating might have inspired him to join in!) The primal, animal nature of their coupling overtook her control and Victoria screamed like a queen leopard when finally her husband sent jet after jet of semen deep within her. Slowly his spasms tapered off and her contractions eventually diminished. At last Charles leaned over onto his wife's back, kissed the nape of her neck and murmured "I love you, Vicky. I love you, I love you, I love you." "Mmmm, and I love you back, Charles, more than life itself." "Good grief, woman, I hope not!" Charles flopped back onto the couch. "It's bad enough poor Cynthia was left alone when Frank was killed in that horrible train wreck. The idea that she might commit suicide and leave Todd and Sheila for the grandparents to raise is simply not to be borne. No, don't ever say 'more than life itself; I'll be perfectly happy with 'more than any other man', thanks." Victoria stretched out languorously on the coffee table, enjoying the warm, sticky trickle down her thighs. The caftan had survived getting cum-stained and washed before and would again. After all, she didn't want to drip out onto the polished walnut. "Deserea seems to be making great progress at the McAllisters," she announced to change the subject, "but she's getting a little suspicious about our long-term plans." "Ya think?" snorted her husband, "You know, for an otherwise intelligent child she can be incredibly clueless. Does she sound upset?" "Oh, you know Des," came the response. "She's such a 'youngest child'. The poor thing never knows what she wants until someone tells her. She knows what will happen next week and that marriage is the logical result. I don't think she sees it as the inevitable result, yet, but by the following Monday morning she'll be flashing her diamond to all the friends who are wondering where she's been for the last six weeks. I've already reserved St. Alban's and set a tentative date with the vicar. We might make some attempt to make her think it's her own idea but she can be so passive, at times." "Well, the least we can do is let her do most of the planning and decide on the guest list. You know how young people can hate interference in their weddings." Charles squatted down and lifted his gooey wife off the coffee table. "Come, sloppy thing, its shower and bedtime for both of us. I've got to be in court in the morning." And in the morning, breakfast was espresso, fresh juice, and hot croissants with coddled eggs all round. Justin, not yet twenty, naturally ate as much as his mentors combined. Then sticking to the routine laid out for him, he strode naked to the indoor pool and spent the next two hours swimming hard to the demanding drumbeat of the under water speakers. He then dried off and returned to Deserea's bedroom to dress for class. While the Smyth-Jefferson's daughter had attended only one semester at the university before dropping out, Justin remained in school, doggedly pursuing his goal of joining the law firm his father and Mr. Smyth-Jefferson had turned into the most respected, most powerful (and most expensive} in the tri-state area. A bit later, he kissed Victoria respectfully on the cheek, mounted his gear bike and pedaled off to attend his mid-day classes. Gliding down the leafless oak tree-lined street, he mused on his current situation. Two months ago, his father had instructed him to begin a series of exercises designed to strengthen his pubococcygeus muscles. No explanation had been given but Justin, like Deserea, was a youngest child so he did what he was told. Then came that amazing evening when three gorgeous women, all nearly his mother's age, had thoroughly and enthusiastically relieved him of his virginity. The McAllisters and the Smyth-Jeffersons had then traded offspring until the next scheduled Gathering and Justin had found himself living in Des' entirely too feminine bedroom while being instructed in Tantric practices by her mother. Victoria had been quite firm about their relationship. She was to be his teacher, not his lover. Lovers, he was told, make every attempt to please each other and she was not trying to please him. Rather her goal was to help him learn the kind of control needed to really please any future lovers. Once that was accomplished, along with the ability to extend an orgasm to amazing lengths, their relationship might be up for re-examination. What astonished Justin was that Charles Smyth-Jefferson was genuinely interested in his progress and eager to spend time coaching the younger man, even when said younger man was deep inside Charles' lusciously buxom wife. Something was going on, here, and Justin began to hope that somehow it had to do with Deserea. By the time the two of them had come along, Justin had three older brothers and Deserea, two. The little law firm the immigrant Scot and the upwardly mobile African-American had started had blossomed. Both families acquired a life-style that was, if not actually opulent, then beyond extremely comfortable. The two men were very close friends as well as partners and their wives delighted in each other's company so their leisure times as well as their professional lives were spent together. The youngest children were a different story. Justin's entire life had been quiet, introverted, and shy. A powerful athlete in the pool, he was a reserved but dogged scholar in the classroom while the Smyth-Jefferson's only daughter was academically brilliant but a complete social butterfly and drama queen. As a child she seemed to think she was the center of the world and that Justin's role in it was to entertain her. He withdrew even farther into himself when they entered middle school and hardly noticed when she was whisked off to an all-girls' Catholic high school in the eighth grade. Her return for their senior year made no impression on him whatever. Then came the night of their first Gathering! On that night he suddenly found himself surrounded, kissed and caressed by nearly naked women and Justin went into shock. After all, one of them was his mother and another was her best friend, his godmother! When it was his turn to greet the beauteous Deserea, he was so stupefied that the required kiss missed her mouth completely and landed, humiliatingly, on her left eye. At that point she'd grabbed both his hands, placed them firmly on the cheeks of her ass, reached around his neck and plastered her naked breasts and thighs against him. They'd have probably have fucked right there in front of everyone, had Des had her way, but his mother intervened and led him off to be thoroughly worked over by ladies of experience. With his increasing prowess, Justin was now sure that he could return those dear women's attentions, with interest. The question remained, where did Deserea fit into all this? Every other woman in the Gathering was someone's wife except Des and she had been placed off-limits, at least at the time. Were the both of them being kept as toys for the older couples? That seemed unlikely given the relationship their families had. The only probable outcome looked to be matrimony and the production of a number of honey-colored offspring. He knew that both mothers would be delighted with such a result but no one had ever mentioned the possibility, let alone asked if either he or Deserea were interested. And, frankly, he wasn't sure he wasn't. After all, Justin understood the concept of arranged marriage, though not in the context of 21st Century America, especially within the upper middle class of the Heartland. Something strange was going on, but he did have hopes. On the other side of the prosperous neighborhood, Deserea was sitting on a mat in an "open lotus" position and starring at the mirror leaning against her heels. Reflected back at her was her own smooth, brown sex. Against all probability, it was flashing twice a second. The LED within her vaginal canal moved up and down in response to the contractions the girl was concentrating on so fiercely. The goal was the ability to slide down onto a man's solid erection and then to milk him to climax by muscle contractions alone. Neither rocking nor bouncing was permitted to the true adept, only the fluid grasp of the muscles moving up and down the shaft. Her mother's admission that she was unable to accomplish that goal on Angus McAllister was the goad that drove Deserea to greater efforts. Only the steel-muscled Sonya could bring him off? Deserea didn't think so! Before the next Gathering she was determined to either see the big Scot spasm under her or to faint in the attempt. Except . . . Angus wasn't really the McAllister she wanted. In the weeks following her introduction to Tantra, Des had been prey to sneaky little guilt feelings regarding the youngest McAllister. Thinking back on their childhood, she remembered just how she had tormented him, getting away with it because he was too shy to complain. When she had returned to the public high school in her senior year, her social world simply didn't include Justin except as a photo on the wall of the natatorium with the long list of his records and victories underneath. The off-hand statement that they'd grown up together and that their families were close had garnered her lots of points with the other girls as they stared at the image of his rippling frame with unrequited lust. None of them ever got to touch him, or even talk to him. That was because he never talked to anyone except to ask for points of clarification in class and to say thank-you for the latest in his collection of medals and trophies. At the last Gathering, though, she had not only kissed him, she'd plastered her 99% naked body against his and felt his interested manhood swell up against her belly. Things could have gotten really exciting at that point but the adults had pried them apart and hadn't let the youngsters have so much as a good-bye kiss when, hours later, they were traded and sent to each other's homes. Now she couldn't get him out of her mind. It wasn't really 'love', she thought, or even sexual desire. After all, the elder McAllisters were making sure that she got all the bisexual riding she could stand, so it couldn't be that she was horny. She just wanted more of Justin. The only question was, how much more? And for that matter, why? In the late afternoon, a showered and robed Justin and Victoria stood facing each other in the sunroom. Victoria regarded him fondly, quite sure that today he would break through the barrier that separated ejaculation from orgasm, man from superman. She stroked his cheek maternally and then proceeded to untie his robe to leave him standing naked and semi-erect before her. Stepping back, she smiled at his rising and reddening phallus and asked, "You swimmers all shave your arms, legs and chests. Why do you stop when you get to your Speedos? I think we should do something about that!" Drums Without further word, she pushed the youth down onto the settee before her and reached into the open bag that sat next to them on the Nyquist end-table. She withdrew a cordless trimmer and before he could protest sent curls of red hair falling to the floor. Next came a can of shaving cream and a razor that stroked up and down his groin, the length of his shaft and around his ball-sack. A damp washrag cleaned off any remnants of her efforts and a soothing Aloe cream was applied to avoid any future irritation. "Mmmm," Victoria hummed, "now you really look good enough to eat! Pity that we have lessons to attend to, you know. However, today you'll get it right and once you have, the next cream will be Reddi-whip." With that she rubbed some lubricant on her hands and began what she hoped would be his last genital massage. Slowly she ran her hands up the inside of his thighs and all over the entire area between his hipbones taking, of course, especial time with his cock and balls. Occasionally she would give him a teasing lick or momentary suck until Justin's manhood stood stiff, red and eager for her. She played with his anus, bit down on his nipples, sucked his earlobes and kissed him deeply, ferociously. She slid a Mickey Hart CD into the stereo. Then, ripping open a lubricated condom, Victoria rolled it down over his eager pole with the admonition, "Remember, take your time, as long as you want, and when your find yourself on the verge take and hold an expecially deep breath, push your tongue up into the roof of your mouth, keep your eyes wide open and squeeze, hard!" She threw aside her robe and lay back on the floor, a small pillow under her cushiony bottom. Lifting and spreading her thighs to give the lad a good view of his puffy, waiting target, she raised an eyebrow and queried "Ready? Stick it in!" "Oof!" they grunted in chorus. Really, thought the woman, while orgasm is the best, penetration is right up there close behind. Going from empty to full in a good, solid thrust was just wonderful. She pulled up another small pillow under her head, the better watch her student. It wasn't needed to keep an eye on his face, but she took an esthetic delight in the color contrast offered by each of the pillaging penises that entered her butterscotch pussy. Justin was deep pink with a purple head. Her wonderful Charles was milk chocolate and "special dark" and so on through the swarthy Sicilian-Argentine Raul Ramirez, the golden Vietnamese Mark Nguyen and the enormous pale Swede, Sven Andersen. Racists who insisted on only fucking people who looked just like them were really silly, she believed. Taking his beat from the drum solo, Justin thrust on. He had earlier learned breathing techniques to control himself well enough to prolong intercourse for a good while. Tonight's goal was the final step and both of them were determined that he should succeed. Victoria could see that her pupil was approaching the point of no return as his breathing deepened and a blush spread across his freckled face and down his neck and shoulders to the middle of his ripped chest. Suddenly he inhaled deeply, fixed a determined expression on his face and, increasing his pace, climaxed. The orgasm seemed to go on for minutes, not seconds, and as it diminished, Justin thrust on. Tingling sensations spread out from his genitals electrifying his whole body. Victoria's womanly lubrication flowed out over his manhood making it glisten in the afternoon sunlight and gathered in a puddle on the pillow underneath them. Suddenly, Victoria's eyes flew wide open. Justin reached under her knees to put her feet on his shoulders then grabbed her butt and lifted it off the floor. He straightened his back and Victoria realized that the young devil was now deliberately aiming the head of his cock directly at her G-spot. With a wicked leer he drove against the most arousing and least controllable part of her womanhood. She felt the unstoppable sensations begin and, completely giving up to pleasure, relaxed into the crashing climax. Moaning and trembling, Victoria felt herself cum and cum and cum until the spasms finally petered out and she looked up with glazed eyes at the man who had been her Novice and was now her Master. Roles had definitely changed. Now she was a helpless vessel for his lust, able only to receive and react to his virility. Withdrawing, Justin turned her over onto her stomach to lay full length on her back. She spread her thighs wide and arched her back to give him better access as he slid in and out like a piston. Again and again he came until even his splendid athlete's body could no longer continue and he finally shot his load into the condom and collapsed, trembling, on top of her. When Charles Smyth-Jefferson arrived home, his arms full of requested Thai take-out, he found his wife sitting naked on the sofa with a sleeping Justin's red head on her lap. Victoria had that unquenchable smile on her face that he knew only too well while she lovingly stroked the sleeping young man's hair. "Oh Charles, he's Mac all over again," she exclaimed quietly, "Two hours he did me, two hours! And on his first successful try, too. I'm sorry, dear, but you're going to need the condom and the lube tonight. The little stinker pounded my pussy sore and you will just have to take the back way in." "Why am I not upset?" grinned her husband, as she slipped out from under the subject of their conversation, "You know I think I never get enough buggery from you. It would seem our kilt-less young swordsman has developed a real taste for dark meat. Have you any idea what his feelings about Deserea are, yet?" Victoria slipped her bare arm through her husband's suit sleeve and followed him and their dinner to the kitchen. "He hasn't said, yet," she murmured while she rubbed her face against his coat, "but if he does that to her, she won't let go of him until he acquiesces. I think we ought to tell Charles, Jr. and David to plan some vacation time around the day of next month's Gathering. It will delight everyone to see them (and Natasha and Heather, of course) again." "Blast!" responded Charles, "that means we can't have it here, I suppose. If, as I'm praying, Cynthia comes back and we add all five older boys and their wives to a full wedding night Gathering, there won't be enough room in the backyard . . . unless we open up the entire house." Victoria stopped dead in her tracks. "Open the entire house? Have the members fucking in all the guest rooms, Des' room and on our bed? Couples and trios laying each other out in the front room, even on the dining room table? Charles Elroy, you are a disgusting, demented, perverted genius! That's just exactly what we'll do. I can hardly wait to see you up Dolly McAllister's round little copper bum in front of the fireplace. Can you imagine? We'll have such fun! Now if only Des and Justin will cooperate!" It was 10:00 p.m. and Victoria, showered and perfumed, was preparing for Charles' return to the bedroom. Though, like most new brides, she'd worked to help put her man through law school, once his practice was established her sole job, she thought, was to make his high stress life easier. That meant a nightly dose of what she'd read was the gentlest and most natural tranquilizer, his beloved "bourbon and branch water", and all the sex his virile body could stand. She'd hired prostitutes to teach her the finer points of fellatio and had taken yoga to improve her flexibility. The only act she could never get excited about was sodomy. She didn't hate it, like many women did; she just didn't get any real charge out of it. Basically, it felt weird. However, on occasion she would invite her husband into the "back alley", especially when she was feeling submissive or just a little guilty about paying more attention to a pupil than to him. Tonight she laid a packaged condom and the tube of KY on his pillow and began to prepare herself. First she cuffed her ankles to each end of a long spreader bar. It made moving around awkward but she thought the visual effect worth it. Then she slipped a blindfold over her forehead, a bolster under her hips and buckled black leather cuffs onto her wrists. Just before she slid the blindfold down over her eyes with her forearms, Victoria clicked the fastenings of the wrist cuffs onto the waiting headboard. Now, ass high with thighs spread wide, she smiled contentedly and waited for the coming assault. She heard Charles enter their bedroom and pause. Wordlessly he began to stroke her thighs and buttocks and to kiss the nape of her neck clear down to the cleft of her bottom. Warm massage oil poured down onto the small of her back to flow slowly toward her shoulders before being rubbed up and down her body leaving a glistening sheen. Again the oil poured, this time over her legs to be stroked down over her bound feet and then up her thighs, between her buttocks and silkily over her pussy. Okay, she was all slicked up, now, and feeling delightedly helpless. Would Charles spend time loosening her ass up or just lube himself and take her the hard way? For a sexually aggressive woman, Victoria took a real joy in submission, when she felt like it. Tonight she definitely felt like it and hoped her husband would use her long and hard. True, it would hurt just a little but it was a good hurt and she was looking forward to it. She heard the condom wrapper tear followed shortly afterwards by the gloopy, spurting sound the KY jelly made. Oh yes! The bed sagged between her thighs and he lay full-length on top of her. The turgid head of his phallus pressed against her anus and she immediately bore down to open the sphincter muscles and admit him while starting to wriggle, thrash and whimper theatrically. After all, you can't be properly taken if you don't resist and the show was part of the game. Grunting, Charles thrust his stiff organ through her rosebud and deep within her rectum. Victoria cried out, faking an attempt to roll off the bolster and out from under him. This forced her husband to grab a buttery breast in each hand and squeeze. She gasped. Front and rear she was under relentless attack when he topped it off by grabbing her shoulder muscles with his teeth and clamping down. Going completely limp, Victoria yielded to Charles' ferocious, ceaseless drumming. She could tell he was after at least a double orgasm tonight and probably more. Tomorrow, sitting would be done gently! For his part, Charles gloried in his dominance. Normally the most considerate of husbands, when the chance came to ravish his wife without regards for her pleasure he was only too happy to take it. He knew that buggery was purely for his benefit and that his wife's struggles were not entirely faked. Tightening his pectoral muscles, he forced her deeper into the mattress while pulling her harder against him, squeezing out further whimpers. The sensations of her tight ass constricting his cock were hot beyond description and they drove him from genital orgasm to whole torso orgasm and finally to a rolling full-body orgasm that took him into realms of pleasure that were almost spiritual. There he stayed, growling and thrusting in true ecstasy until, sweat-soaked and exhausted, Charles shot a load into his beloved's latex-protected ass and rolled off her, shuddering in the after effects. That half an hour of buttfucking left Victoria contentedly feeling she was the most-used woman on Earth. "God," she thought, while cleaning up and coming back to bed, "what a stud I've got! And people wonder why we're still so happily married." She rolled up against him, wiggling her abused backside into his crotch and felt his large, warm, dark hand engulf her full breast. What a way to end the day! February's Gathering Day dawned blustery and cold but the weather was completely ignored by the three naked women sitting in the cozy sunroom of the spacious McAllister residence. The morning had been spent grooming, shaving, plucking and gossiping. Now, over lunch, the conversation changed tone. Between bites of club sandwich, Deserea finally girded up her mental loins and broached the question that had haunted her for the last six weeks. "Mum, Sonya, what am I supposed to do? Logic says that I should marry Justin, if only because we're the only singles in the Gathering. But I don't really feel that I love him. I know I will, after we ride the Wave tonight, but knowing is different from doing. Physically, he's hot, but a lot of men are and I don't feel pulled towards them as much. I don't know why but for the last six weeks, I haven't been able to get him out of my mind. I want Justin! I just don't know why or how much. What am I supposed to do?" Victoria regarded her daughter evenly. "Do you want the short answer or the long one?" There was a pregnant pause. "Both, I think." Deserea's posture became more alert, more erect than it had been for as long as any of the older women could remember. "I'm starting to feel a life-altering moment coming, Mother, and I want to know all the details." "Excellent!" trilled her godmother. "The short answer is that tonight when Justin says 'you're mine' and you answer 'I'm yours' you add the word 'forever'. That's all it should take. The long answer is a bit more complicated. You see, dear, Smyth-Jefferson/McAllister isn't just a law firm. For the last twenty-six years it's been a ménage a quatre. We aren't just close friends or even lovers. More than anyone else in the Gathering we're a family. To put it bluntly, you were supposed to be my daughter and Justin was supposed to be your mother's third son. It was just one of those ironic quirks of Fate that when your father was trying to get me pregnant and Mac thought he was breeding your mom both of us had already conceived. No one had the slightest clue until the two of you were born. Here we were expecting a couple of little butterscotch drops and instead ended up with a redhead and you. Laugh? We howled for weeks afterwards! What the four of us want and what we've been wanting since then is for the two of you to complete that joining. No, right now you don't love Justin or even lust after him. Instead you feel you are fated for each other. You are. Therefore, just accept the fact and go with the flow. Does that help?" A broad grin spread over Des' face and she threw her head back, hugged herself tightly and began to laugh, long and loudly. The older women joined her and they all fell into each others' arms, giggling and crying at the same time. "O.K." gasped Des when she finally could talk again, "does Justin have any idea? Does he need to?" "As your father crudely put it, Justin definitely has a taste for dark meat," Victoria answered with her tongue firmly in cheek, "and I have no doubt that when you accept his 'proposal', even if it is unstated, it will relieve what I can see as a serious inner turmoil. Like you, he really doesn't know what he wants or why. We do but can't just up and tell him, not in 21st Century America. So you give him a nudge and everything should fall into place thereafter. Do a one-month engagement and a reasonably modest family wedding at St. Alban's Episcopal sound agreeable?" "Agreeable? Mom, the relief is almost orgasmic! Would it be too much to expect a post-Reception Gathering for the Wedding Night, maybe even one without condoms?" "A Gathering for you and Justin? Of course! And, yes, you'll be bareback with each other, at least after he takes your anal virginity. Don't ever let any man in the back way without one, by the way; the risk of urethral infection is far too great for that. Everyone else is a different story, and condoms will continue to be "evening dress", as always. Come the day when your brothers and the younger McAllisters decide to mingle DNA, and I'm sure it will, that should be done more privately. I'm not sure all the rest of the Gathering would really approve quite that much intimacy. Now, it is nap time for all of us. We're going to need our strength tonight, even more than usual if I don't miss my guess!" That evening Deserea stood viewing her naked body in the full length mirror. The knowledge that she was about to be a bride brought a glow from within. Keeping to the Gathering's custom, she plaited her hair into a long single braid and added a cluster of bells to the end. Then she put on large, hand wrought gold earrings, a necklace, and wrist and ankle bangles, all with bells. She pulled up an embroidered silk band between her thighs and rubbed it slowly and sensuously over her mound and up between her buttocks. It felt so good sliding against her bared, sensitive skin and reminding her of the many hands that had and would again be touching her there. Finally, with some reluctance she stopped and fastened it in place with an ornate gold belt that hung just above her mons and circled her hips low enough to expose the cleft of her ass. The belt, too, was hung with instrument quality bells so that her body was now a living percussion section of ringing and tinkling. She saved the best for last. Picking up two jewelry pieces that complimented the ones pulling on her earlobes, she licked her forefinger and began to rub slowly and erotically around each dark nipple bringing them to stiff attention. In her last gesture of preparation, she slipped the nylon loops of the breast jewelry over the nipples and tightened them to just that proper blend of pain and excitement that she had been wanting for the last six weeks. Once again she looked into the mirror. Turning slowly, she mentally noted the improvement six weeks of yoga, swimming and erotic dance had made to her already splendid figure. Her butt was a pair of bubbles, her belly a six-pack to match her 'fiancé's' and her breasts stood high and proud atop her perfectly defined pectorals. "Auntie Sonya" had left her highly regarded dance studio an hour earlier each day of the last month and half, the better to coach Deserea in the fine art of terpsichorean seduction. Her attempts to match the videos of her mother's best performances had taught her that it was neither the liquid swinging of the hips, nor the wantonly spread thighs that so promisingly exposed her sex to her audience, nor yet the arched back that thrust her bottom out so provocatively, nor even the shimmies that made her breasts bounce and swing that enflamed onlookers. It was instead Victoria's ability to make enticing eye contact with each and everyone around her that brought the Gathering to a state of drooling arousal. She managed to promise anyone who saw her undreamt-of delights and pleasures. Whether man or woman mattered not, those eyes said that Victoria Smyth-Jefferson would take them to heights of sexual ecstasy and leave them exhausted, but happy before going on to further conquests. It was an amazing talent. Deserea fully intended to do as well and the first two objects of her dance would be Justin . . . and her father! Chelsea Nguyen had explained it all over the phone one afternoon. When the members of the Gathering came to feel that one of their children was an adult, a fully adult member he or she should be. Actual incest, they believed, required the ability to conceive of dangerously inbred offspring and that was simply impossible. The women all had their Fallopian tubes tied after the birth of their third or fourth child so welcoming the eldest son with open arms (and thighs!) was perfectly safe. Good quality latex and Tantric self-control kept daughters un-bred and, for the worse scenarios (the ones that never happened) there was always the Morning-After Pill. Both Charles, Jr. and David, Deserea's older brothers, were quite familiar with their mother's physical charms as were Cameron, Malcolm and Robert McAllister of Sonya's. Deserea's imagination went into overload about that time. Visions of hours of penetration by every male in her clan made her thighs go limp in anticipation. Justin would definitely have to open up her back door. That many men would require every orifice she had and probably both hands and feet, as well. Drums Inclement weather meant two things for the Gathering. Firstly, the silk caftans and sandals that normally served as cover-ups between the parked cars and the hosts' home had to be replaced with ankle-length, hooded, cashmere sweaters and fur-lined low boots. The second was harder for the starry-night-loving crowd. They would have to meet indoors, at the Nguyens'. For it was, indeed, Mark Nguyen, Ph. D. (MIT), MS, BS (Mathematics) who had the solution to bad weather. The short, slender (and utterly brilliant) Vietnamese-American had been appeared the kind of dreamy, absent-minded student that professors and mentors fully expect to delve deeply into abstract theorems and obscure proofs. They envisioned him perhaps attaining the Einstein chair at Princeton or earning the Field's Medal. The truth disappointed them deeply. Mark only specialized in math because he was preternaturally good at it. The Great Unsolved Puzzles had no attraction for him, nor did exploring rarefied and exotic abstractions. Rather, his intent all along was to come up with a way to make money, lots of money, and then to quit completely. He succeeded. His dissertation had involved certain statistical engines that related marvelously to the financial world. First he had applied them himself and made a pile. Then he licensed his techniques to the great investment houses and hedge funds of New York, London, Zurich and Singapore. The return from that venture made his earlier fortune seem like beer money. What really turned out, to the academic world's surprise, to be the single-minded passions of Dr. Nguyen's life were the elfin China doll that lived across the street from his parents . . . and orchids! Mark's adored Chelsea was barely five feet tall and weighed 99 lbs, soaking wet. She seemed reserved, deferential, fragile, and delicate. The Army should know so much about camouflage! Chelsea combined a gymnasts' strength with a contortionist's flexibility, an angel's face with a wanton's appetites and was adjudged by the Gathering to be as good a lay as Victoria Smyth-Jefferson. The home they shared with twin daughters (away at college) and a son (in med school) was large, refined, subtle and comfortable. Its surrounding estate was fifteen acres of greenhouses! When entertaining fellow AOS judges or botanical scholars from around the world, the areas Mark showed off were unremarkable in design but mind-boggling in content. Miles of growing benches sat under equal miles of hanging plants. Rare species, original hybrids, warm rooms, cool rooms, and moderate rooms held a private collection that brooked no competition, not even from Singapore or from Bangkok. What these guests never saw was a cunningly disguised door leading to a completely different sort of room. This was the room to which the Gathering repaired when the temperature so dropped that gold would conduct cold to delicate, female flesh. Here, hidden in the center of the Nguyen's world-class plant collection, was a "Pleasure Dome" Coleridge, himself, could have never imagined. Couches wide enough for two and strong enough for four sat in the middle of lawns of moss and were surrounded by bright specimen plants chosen for their mesmerizing fragrance and their habit of blooming in winter. Erotic bronzes gleamed in the candle light. Nooks and crannies abounded. Cushions of varying shape and size encircled a teak dance floor that lay above a cistern. This, in turn, would be filled with water until a proper level was reached. Then the dance could begin and under the pounding feet the floor would boom like an enormous drum. Ringing bells joined the resonant dance floor to cast a hypnotic spell over the assembly. Add to this the sight of writhing, luscious women, glistening with sweat, and the effect could, and often did, bring members of the Gathering to orgasm without so much as a fingertip being laid on anyone. No matter how often she came to the place, Victoria couldn't help but be hugely impressed. Deserea was stunned by it all. "Oh my God!" she breathed. When the Smyth-Jeffersons and Justin arrived moments later, his response was equally heartfelt, though coarser. "Holy shit! Would you look at that?" Not even the rustle of cashmere falling to the ground on all around him could break his enchantment until his mother's murmured "Darling, you're looking well" and the gentle rake of her nails down his chest and belly brought him back to reality. He looked deeply into her corn-flower blue eyes and responded "Mother, it's been amazing." "I can hardly wait to find out, dear, and I will, oh, I will! Justin, my sweet, you're mine! But later, my son, later." Swallowing in surprise, Justin turned to Deserea and found her wrapping both arms around his neck and one leg around his thighs. "Justin, my sweet," she began, "when she's done with you, I'm . . ." but before she could finish he hugged her fiercely to his chest. "After we're finished, you're mine . . . forever!" The surprised girl squealed in delight, "Forever? Oh God, yes, forever! Please, Justin, do we even need to ride the Wave? Let's just find a bench and fuck all night! You can't imagine how much I've missed you." This time it was Deserea's mother who gently pried them apart. "Yes, darlings, this time you can find a bench and fuck all night but later, my children, later. The entire gathering hasn't even arrived and they will be expecting a show. And since they expect a show, a show they will get, starring Smyth-Jefferson/McAllister. Now go make your hellos to our hosts and greet everyone. And Justin, get naked . . . now!" Mildly surprised by the intensity of Victoria's command, Justin pulled off his fleece-wear, dropped it into a waiting basket on top of his mother's cashmere and stood up nude, pale and completely shaved. There was a subtle but distinct change in the atmosphere. Two months ago the youth was so shy that he hid from the rapt attention of coeds. Now he suddenly knew he was an object of desire, not only to the three women next to him and to those just entering the room but, much to his astonishment, to the men as well. Perhaps it was his white, northern skin or his perfectly developed musculature. Whichever it was, something about him brought to mind later Greek kouroi and the attraction such young men had for both sexes. Whatever the reason, the entire Gathering, as it filed into the room, smiled, licked their lips and took mental notes to better make his future acquaintance. When he and Deserea walked up to the Nguyen's for the customary kiss and caress, Chelsea pulled his face down, drove her tongue between his lips and ran her soft hands down his face, his chest, and his six-packed belly to his crotch. There she took his balls and hardening cock in her hands and weighed them, pulling slightly. "Dr. Nguyen," she turned to her husband, "won't dear Mr. McAllister make a lovely sandwich?" "Yes, and so will Deserea," was the murmured reply. "However, good manners do require that it be later, my dear, later. Fortunately, the night is long . . ." "But perhaps not long enough," Chelsea looked like she was having second thoughts. "Mr. McAllister, I have this feeling that during your training Victoria never broke out any of her strap-ons. She didn't, did she?" "Uh, no." "And Mr. Smyth-Jefferson never got 'hands-on', either, did he?" "Well, he coached me about timing and control, but that was all." Justin began to feel apprehensive about the direction this conversation was taking. He definitely wasn't looking to be the centerpiece of a bisexual orgy tonight; he just wanted all the time with Deserea he could get. "Uh-huh!" grunted Mark. "It will be quite a while later, then. Make that clear to all, dear," he looked pointedly at his wife. "We don't want anyone surprised or upset, now, do we?" "We certainly do not," she giggled, "though keep in mind, young man, that male and female mouths and hands feel equally good and that a tight, well-greased bottom is tight, slippery and hot no matter whom it belongs to." She saw his slightly worried expression and then remembered. "Oh dear, we didn't introduce you to the joys of the prostate massage last month, did we. How inconsiderate of us. Deserea, come here." She pulled the youngest Smyth-Jefferson aside and began to whisper earnestly to her. While Justin was trying to decide whether to make a protest, attempt to listen in or to ignore the previous few minutes and get on with greeting the other guests, a tan brunette adorned in all-black jewelry and a black loincloth came up, kissed him soundly and ran a overly familiar hand down his back and between the cheeks of his butt. "Hello, you would be the younger Mr. McAllister." She purred, "I'm Cynthia DeGenoa and I would like to claim you for the evening. However, I have been advised you will be spending most of it deep inside dear Deserea. I just want you to know that at your earliest convenience . . . I'm yours!" DeGenoa! That was the name in the news story about the terrible train wreck that had taken a '. . . rising young surgeon who left a young wife and two elementary school-age children. -- AP' Justin hurried to express his sympathy, "Ms. DeGenoa . . ." he began. "Ah-ah! Mind your manners, Mr. McAllister, ladies are addressed by their first names out of affection and men by their formal titles out of respect." Cynthia smiled, "And if you were going to tell me how sorry you are about my loss, your kindness is greatly appreciated. The vicar it will take time before my emotional wounds are fully healed, but that's not why I'm here tonight. I've returned to the Gathering for purely physical needs. I came back to be royally fucked and royally fucked I will be, even if not by you, I guess . . . yet." There was a wicked twinkle in her eye that made Justin want to reconsider his original plan to spend the entire night with Des. "Uh . . . it would be most ungentlemanly of me to deny a lady in need any aid I could offer, wouldn't it?" He blushed in happy surprise to see her face light up. Cynthia threw her arms around his neck and one leg around his butt exactly the way Deserea had. "Mr. McAllister," Cynthia announced between kisses, "you are a rake and a cad. I like that in a man! Mount your dear mother, and then ride the Wave with Deserea. I'll see you in about three hours and we'll see how depraved we can get. Now don't forget me! I'll be the one with a glove and tube of KY. You're going to love what I'm going to do to you . . . both!" With that she slipped away from him and into the warm, even heated embrace of Master Harold leaving Justin to try and get his breathing back under control. All Gathering members customarily greeted each other with a kiss and a caress. Normally the kisses were warm and the caresses affectionate but not impassioned. Going from couple to couple while completely naked, Justin found things a bit different this night. While the kisses remained the same, French style double cheek with the men and full lipped and prolonged with the women, the caresses were no longer just familiar. The repeated cupping of his buttocks with fingers pressed between them by absolutely everyone was unsettling but increasingly arousing. Repeated memories of the phrases "a tight, well-greased bottom is tight, slippery and hot no matter whom it belongs to" and "I'll be the one with a glove and a tube of KY" slightly alarmed but also excited him. He was sure that Victoria's promise that he and Deserea could find a bench and fuck all night meant that they could fuck each other, alone, all night but he was beginning to wonder. Perhaps another flute of Moet would clarify things and calm his nerves. After all, the rules for the Gathering were clear. No one ever had to do anything they didn't want to. The question was becoming what, exactly, did he want to do? The evening wore on with tray after tray of fresh sushi and cases of chilled champagne. The ladies went from lap to lap sipping from crystal flutes and inserting maki into their men's mouths. Deserea, perched onto her father's thighs, was holding her breasts around a California roll with one hand while pulling Charles' mouth down to it with the other when Sonya beckoned. "It is time, Deserea, the music will start momentarily." Deserea ran her tongue around the inside of her father's ear and whispered, "Mr. Smyth-Jefferson, after the dance, I'm yours. After nineteen years as your daughter, tonight I'm your woman!" "For one ride tonight, Des, you're mine." Charles replied. "After that I expect to see you and Justin doing the Two-Tone Tango. Understood?" "Of course, Mr. Smyth-Jefferson, did you think I'd do anything else?" With that sassy retort Deserea slipped off to join her mother and godmother in the center of the dance stage. The three stood back to back with arms upraised, hips cocked and breasts outthrust and paused dramatically. Then the quiet, sensual, opening strains of Ravel's Bolero brought a hush to the Gathering. Smyth-Jefferson/McAllister women stomped their heels on the downbeat of each measure then swung shoulders, hips and breasts to make their bells answer the echoing boom of the dance-floor. As the music swelled, their writhing increased in eroticism and sweat began to brighten dark, light and medium skin. Nearing the end of the piece, Victoria could see Cynthia's left hand down the front of Angus McAllister's loose trousers and her right firmly wrapped around Justin's phallus. She stoked keeping time with the rhythm while her eyes were focused on the dancer's hips. Responding to the glance, Victoria murmured "Now!" to her partners and they simultaneously unbuckled their belts and dropped the loincloths to the teak beneath their feet. Gently discarding the belts onto the piles of silk, the three spread their thighs and rocked their hips forward and back. The obvious invitation was almost more than the Gathering could stand but everyone managed to wait for the end of the music before reaching for the nearest person with one hand and for a condom with the other. Scooped up and carried off by their men, the dancers gleefully impaled themselves on erections that quivered in appreciation. The thought flashed across Justin's mind that he was reentering the birth canal he'd emerged from almost two decades before. Surely it must feel better this time. Sonya's slight figure perched across his lap; the youth began to take deeper and deeper breaths, drawing the chi energy back from his genitals and up toward his brain. His mother smiled fondly, watching her son progress further into manhood before her very eyes . . . and between her very thighs! Her breathing, too, deepened for the same reasons and with the same effect. Alternating breaths sent the energy from one to the other, electrifying brains and bodies into a transcendental state that joined bodies at their root and souls at their apex. Parental/filial love became erotic love as their relationship changed from mother/son to man/woman. Nothing would ever be the same again. Deserea's response was similar. The penis that now gave her delight was the one that gave her life. As she stared into her sire's deep brown right eye and surrendered herself to orgasm, she wasn't sure which she was more grateful for. Vaginal muscles in full play, she squeezed her father's phallus in rhythm with the musical memories of the past hour. Mons to cervix she stroked him as though trying to absorb her father fully into her womb. Climax after extended climax swept across the six until finally Angus lifted Victoria off his manhood and announced that it was time to release the youngsters to each other's passion and for the parents to seek the pleasure of others' company. Slung over Justin's shoulder, Deserea protested "Mr. McAllister, can't we just find a nearby bench and have at it? Do we really need the Wave of Bliss when we already know that we're engaged?" Justin's response was a curt "Yes!" as he sought out a small private patch of moss beneath a stunning Aerides odorata that was fully two and a half feet across. The fragrance of its mass of blooms was nearly overpowering and it was there that Justin lowered his betrothed to the ground, pulled himself into an open lotus and her onto his lap. "Oooo," Des cooed, grasping his swollen member in both hands, "you're still so hard! Playing with mommy must have been fun for her big boy. Does mommy's big boy want to play with daddy's little girl, now, instead?" She put her hands on his shoulders, her pussy against his belly and slid down onto his erect phallus. Wrapping her legs around his waist into the classic yabyum position she locked her gaze onto Justin's right eye and remaining otherwise motionless, began to work her vaginal walls up and down along his length. Imagining the flow of power out of her mouth, into her man's nose, down his torso, out his penis and back into her body, her arousal rose and rose to heights she'd never experienced. Faster her hot, slick canal caressed her lover and ever faster. Deeper they breathed together and ever deeper. Higher their passion rose and ever higher until after an unmeasured time they threw their heads back, opened their mouths and screamed in climax, melting into each other, bodies joined, souls joined, and hearts joined, forever. They were still joined sometime later when Cynthia DeGenoa finally found them. She looked down on the couple lying on their sides gently applying tongues to genitals in the classic 69 position, though it was obvious that the white heat of their earlier passion had been replaced by the warm coals of affection. "I hate to interrupt such a romantic scene," she smiled, "but certain preparations for your wedding night are in order. We will begin, now." "You mean when he buggers me?" asked Deserea, looking up. "I know how that's done, mother was quite explicit. I can hardly wait, you know, every bride ought to have some sort of virginity to offer her groom." "That's exactly what I'm referring to, dear," the older woman replied, "but probably not in the way you think. We women of the Gathering aren't opposed to being enjoyed in 'the back door' but we definitely believe that what is saucy for the goose should be a goose for the gander. If your backside in tight, slippery and hot, his should be likewise so tonight Mr. McAllister loses his anal virginity in preparation for taking yours." Both young people sat up, alarmed. "You mean he can't have me back there until someone has him?" Deserea seemed offended and Justin turned paler and looked more than a little apprehensive. "Not by someone, Deserea, by you." Cynthia smiled reassuringly. "And I'm here to make sure that the experience is pleasant for you both as well as make sure that the same is true next Gathering when he completes the consummation of your marriage. Let's begin gently. Mr. McAllister, please lie back down and spread your legs, wide." She reached under his buttocks and pulled to both straighten his back and better expose his anus. Reaching into the velvet bag she carried, Cynthia pulled out two transparent gloves and tossed one to Deserea. Now the girl understood the Gathering's fashion for short, round fingernails. Even her mother's stylish claws were paste-ons that were always gone on any Gathering night. She watched fascinated as, pulling the condom off the penis that had gone soft with surprise moments before, Cynthia lifted Justin's scrotum and spread his buttocks with her left hand. Turning to the girl, the widow instructed "Open the KY, darling, and put a good dollop of it on the ball of my index finger. Please observe that I am not just sticking my finger inside, point on, but pushing the entire gob of lube inside." Justin gasped. "Now Mr. McAllister," Cynthia continued, "you're going to bear down strongly, just like you would on the toilet. Come on, push!" Drums Doing as instructed, Justin felt himself open and her finger slip painlessly in, up to the hilt. Justin gasped. The unfamiliar intrusion was both cold and arousing. "See how easy that was? Now Deserea, you take two fingers and do exactly the same." The younger woman did as instructed, then giggled as her fiancé's soft member began to stir to life. "C'mon, Mr. McAllister," she breathed "push harder," and suddenly half her hand was inside him. This time her man moaned as thousands of nerve endings all fired simultaneously and deliciously. What had sounded weird and had initially felt odd was now transformed into wonderful. "Now curl your fingers a bit, girl, and feel that hard little knob. Yes, that's the place, his prostate. You tickle that for a bit and no amount of muscle control can prevent ejaculation so pull out just a bit and turn your fingers around and around. Feel him start to relax." Relax? Justin thought that whatever was being done to him, relaxation wasn't the correct word. He was coming to understand that a bottom that was tight and slippery wasn't just hot for the one penetrating but for the one penetrated, as well. He was getting seriously aroused. With a smile, Cynthia opened her mouth and took his erection inside. She swallowed and it disappeared down her throat only to emerge slick and glistening with her saliva. "He's ready now, Des, so get the harness out of the bag and put it on. Don't forget more lube!" As the youth watched, mesmerized, the older woman slid a fresh condom over him then rolled over onto her back, spread her thighs and lifted her hips. "Come, Mr. McAllister, that aid you promised a lady in distress? I want it! And while you're giving it to me, Deserea will give it to you." Not surprisingly, Justin couldn't resist her offer, especially given the pleasure his girl had given him moments before. If her fingers could feel that good, her dildo couldn't help but feel better. He sank his manhood into the waiting, dripping Ms. DeGenoa and then held still in anticipation. Pressure arrived at his pucker. He bore down to open himself but it seemed that this invading object was larger than Deserea's small hand. "Push harder, my love, harder!" she whispered and as he complied an inch-and-a-half cross-section of silicone popped through his sphincters and up into his rectum. He felt stretched beyond anything he'd ever experienced and full in a way that entirely new but completely amazing. The sensations he'd experienced moments before were overridden with new delights. "Tight, slippery and hot" Chelsea Ngyuen had said. Justin originally thought that meant the constriction the man would feel around his phallus. Now he understood that the pleasure could be, and was, mutual. Both partners in sodomy shared the delight, whether penetrator or penetrated. "Ohmigod, that looks soooo sexy! I'm all the way into you, clear up to the harness!" "Now back up, Deserea," Cynthia ordered, "while Mr. McAllister fucks me on the forward stroke and himself on the back. Ride me, young man, ride me hard and don't you dare hold back. I want to see that condom full when you're done!" Justin found himself a mass of sensation, pleasured fore and aft. As he drove into Cynthia and onto Deserea he became aware not only of physical sensations, wholly new and entrancing, but of emotional changes. Before his pleasures had come from mastery and dominance. Now he discovered the softer, sensual delights of surrender and submission. From being desired to being an object of desire was a new experience for the youth and it was one that he hoped to repeat. Not that there was anything wrong with his previous role, of course, but variety was making itself welcome in more ways than just the differing skin tones of his mates. At last, in response to his new mistress' desires, he shot a load into her, pumping jet after jet of hot semen into the protective latex and then rolled over on to the soft, green moss and lay there in a panting stupor. "Damn, that was fun!" Deserea unbuckled the harness and dropped the dildo into a waiting baggie. "Do I get to peg him every time he buggers me?" "Deserea, you'll get to peg him any time you want, from the way he responded. And, not to alarm you any, but I suspect that you won't be alone. You saw the way Mr. Ramirez and Dr. Nguyen looked at him when your mother told him to strip. There haven't been any such attractive young men in the Gathering since your brother David and his wife Heather moved to Miami. Even with the "don't do anything you don't want to" rule in place, both those bi's are quite likely to be pressing their desires on him though they have good enough manners to wait until after your honeymoon. Sandwiches are very popular around here as is spit-roasting. Sucking one man off with another in your pussy is great but for the full effect you need to be deep-throated and sodomized. I know your mother isn't that great a fan of the back door approach but . . . mmmmm . . . I just love it. And so, I suspect, will you. Here, help me help him up onto his feet. He's had a busy night and it's time to take him home." After a short, teasing discussion about which parental home the nearly weds should repair to, Justin and Deserea curled up in the back of the Rolls. The McAllister house was larger because the McAllister family had been larger and it was there that the wedding would be arranged. Justin's part was easy. All he had to do was drive down to Rajeev's and decide which of the enormous diamonds the subtle Sikh was recommending best suited his beloved's hand. It would then be crafted into a wedding set and delivered within 24 hours so that between decisions on gowns, flowers, music, etc. his betrothed could swank around her high school friends. At last the Justin they all had longed for was in the bag. She'd caught him and she would have the ring to prove it. Marriage was "but a month a way" and her 'butt' tingled in anticipation. Drumsong Her hair cascaded down to hit the floor as she arched her back thrusting her breasts forward to the caressing eyes of her audience. She was on her knees, legs spread, in only a lacy pink thong. She had anklets which jingled as she danced and bracelets that matched. An elaborate gold necklace laid between her breasts. She ran her fingers over her breasts, grazing the hard nipples as she swayed to the rhythm of the drums. The men gazed at her, longingly. Their eyes as powerful as the touch of a man's hands. She rose to her feet and swayed her hips as her hand slid down over her stomach and on to her panties. She traced her fingers over the delicious wet spot and rubbed as her pelvis told the story she was dancing. She lifted her hands above her head in an Arabic pose, lifting her breasts and causing a jingle of the bracelets that complimented the music. She thrust her hips from side to side and front to back, seducing the men. She wanted them. They wanted her. There was nothing else. She untied the bows at her hips and slid the wet panties from her body and tossed them to an attractive man, sipping a martini. Their eyes connected as she sunk to the floor, and he inhaled her fragrance. Her nipples stood straighter, and juices of arousal were beginning to drip down the inside of her leg. She doubled over backwards, her palms flat on the floor and she thrust her pelvis towards him as if he had just thrust into her. She moaned throatily and the men were silent. The music had ended, but she continued in her dance, thrusting her hips forwards and back in imitation of the oldest dance known to man. She could feel his eyes touching her, taking her to new heights. She was intoxicated by his gaze. She ran her hand over her arched stomach and down to her swollen lips to caress herself. She straightened and drew her fingers up her body to her mouth, leaving a trail of wet. She locked her eyes on his and licked her arousal from her fingers. She closed her eyes and moaned, telling him, yes, I do taste good. He stood near the stage now, and she offered her hand to him. He sucked two fingers into his mouth and she cried out, audibly. The men at the party had no idea that they would be getting such a show, but she was overwhelmed with need and lust. He kissed her deeply as her hips ground into him, pressing her wet against the silk of his suit. He pressed his finger into her pussy and she danced against it. He curled his finger so that he brushed the tender skin inside. She jumped with surprise. He was sliding two fingers in and out of her now, and all the men were watching with amazement. He picked her up, and lay her in the middle of the room on a table and kneeled to push his tongue inside her. No one else touched her, though there were many naked cocks being stroked. She came with the force of lightening, and arched her back. She felt her body being sprayed with their cum. She ran her hands over her body, rubbing it in. He was inside her now, gently. He was swiveling his hips with each thrust causing her to climb back up to that delicious height yet again. She danced on his cock, erotically, sensuously as he made a rhythm of his own thrusting in and out of her wanting pussy. She moaned and cried out, wanting and needing more. He gave her more. He was thrusting hard and deep and fast now, and she could feel more cum hit her body. She arched her back and everything inside her exploded and her pussy convulsed on his cock. He pulled his cock out of her pussy and moved to her mouth, which he prodded open with little suggestion. He stroked his cock a few more times, and the white sticky liquid burned and sweetened in her mouth. She swallowed lovingly and he rubbed the tip over her mouth. She kissed the tip, and he put it back in his pants. She rose from the table and kissed him before going back to change. She came back out to find the party had left. On the table was a large sum of money...much more than she had asked for. She picked it up and walked out the door. She whistled for a taxi and felt a hand on her ass. "May I come home with you?" She looked at him and kissed him gently. "Yes, please do."