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Trilogy

By: rufun2001



I'm a beautifully striking buxom blond, and I know it. Most men can't get enough of me. When you are a beautiful like me, you've got men eating out of your hand 24/7. 

Take my boyfriend, Frank, for instance. He is a real nice guy and all, taking me to movies and indulging me. He'll do anything I ask of him, but somehow I feel like something is missing.

On the other hand, there's Tyrone, a big black stud at work. He's also my boss, very sexy and always hitting on me. I love the way he is so aggressive, and flattered that I am desired by a man 10 years younger. 

He stopped me in the parking garage, one day after work, and we made some small talk.

"Have you got a boyfriend? Would you like a better one? Answer the second question first!"

I got flustered at his humorous rapid-fire approach and started to laugh. I stammered for words, but he just went on.

"Come on girl. I think you need a drink."

He took me to a nice bar for happy hour. We had a few drinks and went to a club for some dancing. Tyrone is a great dancer and I loved the way he took control of me on the floor. We danced until the club closed.

That was how the whole affair got started. It was all so innocent. He took me back to my car later and we started to make out. I was burning with desire. I was French kissing him when he sneaked his hand up into my sopping wet pussy and I began to writhe.


"No, Tyrone! I have a boyfriend. Don't!!"

I pulled his hand out of my crotch.

He just sat back so relaxed and composed against his door smiling at me. He told me to meet him the next day at a bar because he had something very important to tell me. I gave him a warm wet kiss on the lips and told him I'd be there.

Tyrone was a great lover. I fell under his spell, just loving how he had his way with me. He would come over to my place and tell me to take my clothes off, and then he would pleasure my whole body, telling me all the things a woman wants to hear. After what seemed like hours of endless foreplay, I was extremely hot.

"Tyrone, I want your cock inside of me. Now!"

I was just aching for his cock. I lay on my back for him and he spread my thighs wide. His cock jut out rigid and parallel to his muscular body. I winced in pleasure as Tyrone's magic wand pushed in. He mounted me powerfully and the triumph over my womanhood was total when he penetrated me to the hilt, his plum-sized cock head poking about my most intimate places. 

I bit my lip as the engorged spear, black and hard, invaded my trembling loins. As I sumptuously submit to his conquest, he pumped me harder and harder and harder until...

"OOOOOOOOOOOOhhhhhhhhh!" I swooned as a lava flow of his sperm inseminated my womb.

"Oh, Tyrone, I'm coming!" I panted as I plunged headlong over the threshold of orgasm.

He collapsed on me, throbbing spasmodically to my pulsing vaginal muscles clutching his cock. My long legs and arms entwined around Tyrone, feasting on that muscular black manhood until he pushed off, gasping for air.

I lay in the crook of his arm while we both caught our breath. As I caressed his chest, I told him he was the sexiest man I had ever known and that I would do anything he wanted me to do. He was my master. 

Tyrone had complete control of me. He would have me suck him off in his office during lunch hour, or come over to my place in the middle of the night, wake me out of a sound sleep and fuck me silly. I even wanted to talk about the possibility of anal play...

One day, Tyrone told me that he had a very important client that needed to be entertained in a special way. His name was Jose and he was a very powerful Columbian businessman. We were going to meet with him and Tyrone wanted me to be friendly and flirt with Jose, so that they could have a successful business meeting.

That weekend, Tyrone and I met Jose at the most expensive resort in town. I wore an evening gown with my bosom exposed almost to my nipples so that they undulated as I strut down the red carpet leading to the hotel lobby.

Tyrone looked great in his $500 suit and Jose greeted us warmly when we arrived, kissing me warmly on the cheek, and shaking Tyrone's hand vigorously.

"Welcome my friends! Let's have something to eat and friendly conversation. Come with me."

We followed him till the maitre d' stopped us. Jose slipped him a $100 dollar bill.

"We are celebrating tonight! The best seat in the house for me and my friends, Senor!"

We were escorted into the most beautifully appointed room I had ever seen. The food was superb and we had a lively conversation. Jose related great anecdotes about his life in South America. Jose was such a great guy. 

Later on, he pulled out a wrapped present and when I opened it, there was a diamond bracelet staring me in the face. I refused it, saying that he was too nice. He countered by saying that it would be an insult to refuse it and he put it on my wrist.

The evening sped by and we decided to relax in a more casual setting. I volunteered my apartment and we all agreed to meet there in an hour. Jose needed to transact some business and Tyrone said he was going to get out of his suit. Jose's limo whisked me to my place.

I changed into another outfit and I was starting to feel really light headed. I guessed that it must have been all the drinks. My body felt flush. It was like I was horny and high at the same time. Tyrone called and said he would be there in a few minutes. He said that Jose was really impressed with my beauty and that he wanted to take a few photographs. Tyrone told me he wanted me to pose topless for Jose. I told him I would only do this as a favor because Jose was so nice to me and to help him get Jose for a client. I hung up the phone and started to do my nails. 

All I could think was that Jose was a great guy and I wanted to please him. It wouldn't be too much to pose cheesecake for him a little. After all, Tyrone would be there. I'll have a sexy romp just this once to see what it's like. 

The expensive diamond bracelet on my wrist sparkled hypnotically. I just couldn't get over it. It must have cost a fortune. I worked on my nails until Tyrone came to the door.

We had some more drinks and Tyrone told me that he wanted me to serve his drink topless. I can remember getting into that little slut outfit and fetching Tyrone his drink. The next thing I know Jose was there. I was so glad to see him I ran over to him and clutched his face to my naked breasts.

He was masterful, and the next thing I know Jose was masturbating me. I felt so good. It was ecstasy. I purred and moaned for what seemed like forever. A firestorm of sexiness came over me when Jose started taking pictures of me. All I can recall was that I felt like I was the most alluring woman in the world and that I could make men do what ever I wanted by acting sexy and pouting. 

When I bent over with my naked butt in the air, holding on to my ankles so Jose could get a shot of me putting on my pout, the rapid fire staccato of Jose's flashing camera fuzzed my brain and I lost my balance.

The only other thing I can remember was the blinding orgasm and the wonderful pain of Jose's manhood bursting into my brown paradise while Tyrone was fucking me. I screeched for them to fuck me, till I was hoarse.

The next day I awoke late, feeling totally different. I felt ashamed and used. The realization that I had been drugged began to settle in, as I tried to reconstruct what happened in my mind. I decided I better break it off with Tyrone. He was a fantastic lover but I felt that I was getting in over my head. I decided that I would call Frank and get him back.

Frank's Story

Valerie was by far the most stunning woman in my life; classic beauty in face and figure, her sumptuous body and those magnificent breasts I loved to grab and knead when I took her from behind. She was a tall, buxom woman, so after a good fuck I could lay on top of her, luxuriating in the sumptuous flesh I had conquered. Oh how delicious, to roll on top of her in the middle of the night and while half asleep, cum up the honey pot that was always wet for me.

One day, out of the blue, she tells me that she wants to break up and be just friends. She said that we had a great six years together, but now it was time to move on. I thought about pleading and begging, but they say that when a woman hands you your walking papers you only have a slim chance of getting back together.

Thoughts of losing her only made the heat of desire burn inside me. I decided not to give up that easily. Before giving back the keys to her apartment, I had duplicates made without telling her. I'm a computer geek so it was nothing for me to sneak into her place one day and wire it for video and sound with a few microchips and one of those new spy cams. I could watch what she did from anywhere on my wireless laptop.

One Saturday night, I decided to view her apartment to see what she was doing. The LCD display came on. She was applying a bright red fingernail polish and blowing on them, when there was a knock at the door. She answered and in walked Tyrone, whom I recognized as the black man that was her supervisor at work. He gave her a nice wet kiss on the lips while he squeezed her ass.

"How about a drink Tyrone? Sit down and relax."

He leered at her sashay to the kitchen.

"That's a nice outfit."

"Thanks, I just bought it the other day." She replied.

She returned with highballs and sat right next to him on the sofa.

They made some small talk while they finished off the drinks.

"Make me another one, Val. And this time, serve it to me topless!"

I couldn't believe my eyes when she returned wearing a garter belt, stockings and spike heels. Some music came on and she danced topless for Tyrone as he watched approvingly. As she bent over to serve him his drink, those ample breasts of hers hung down appetizingly. He reached out and pinched one of her nipples hard. She squealed with pleasure.

Suddenly, there was a loud knocking at the door and in walked a tough looking guy with tattoos. Val pranced over in her spike heels to greet him. She ran her painted nails through his greasy hair, clutching his face to her voluminous breasts. In high heels, she towered over him by almost a foot.

"Hi Jose!"

He kissed her breasts and then he grasped one of Val's teats in his hand and licked the areola, she winced with pleasure when he nipped the hardened peak. And then with finesse, he disengaged, gave her a smack on the butt and walked over to Tyrone to give him a fancy handshake. In a moment, the two men waved her over. 

Tyrone took her arms behind her back, setting her off balance and making her lean back against him while her spike heels wobbled in the thick carpeting, proffering her voluptuous breasts, belly and thighs to the other brute.

Jose quickly took down her panties and cursed when they got snared in the clasp of her spike heels. She stepped out of them gingerly and Jose started to finger fuck her. I could see her labia swollen with sexual arousal. Jose worked the slurping slit in counterpoint to sexy Valerie's melodic murmuring. Tyrone kissed her shoulder at the same time.

"The bitch is hot!" 

Jose took a small digital camera from his pocket and snapped off a few flash pictures of dripping snatch. Tyrone released her arms so she could better present her curvaceous body and do some sexy poses for the camera. 

Jose's camera flashed faster as he took some really hot cheesecake shots. My cock was hard as a rock as I watched, but I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. My heart pounded as I watched the woman I desired being ravished by pornographers, and she was loving every bit of it.

Val distractedly took a sip of her drink while she watched both studs strip. They didn't waste much time. Tyrone grabbed her and had her mount his stiff 10-inch shaft while he lay back on the couch. Jose got a few close ups of the black ramrod slithering so easily up her vulva. Tyrone then spread Val's cheeks wide, exposing anus and tender loins for Jose's flesh hungry lens. 

Flash! Flash! Flash! The intensity of the light was interfering with the sensitive spy cam, overloading the circuits.

It was a minute or so later when the picture cleared; there was my love taking Tyrone in her fuck hole and Jose up the ass. They were a mass of bodies writhing and throbbing to pulsating music. Val hollered like a trollop.

"Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh! Please!"

All I could do was stare transfixed at the sight of the two dark men so casually plundering the yielding white-woman flesh. Jose pinched her nipples hard between his index fingers and thumbs while hefting the exquisite fullness of her breasts in his hands.

"I'm coming! I'm coming! she yelped, tongue darting out to French kiss Jose over her shoulder.

It tortured me to see how naturally lubricated she was for them; both men working the slut into a rhythmic frenzy and then so matter-of-factly ejaculating torrents of their seminal fluid deep down her sopping holes. 

When both males had shot their wads, they all collapsed in a heap on the couch. They ordered her to lick them clean, which she did expertly, making them moan and throb with each lick of the tongue.

I couldn't take it any more. I shut the computer down and decided to get on with my life.

A few days later Valerie called me. She told me that she had made a mistake. She was having an affair with her boss but that he was just using her. She wanted to get back with me.

I paused a minute, recollecting everything.

"Valerie, I love you. I understand how you're feeling but I want you to know that things have changed. I'll take you back and I don't care that those men used you like a whore, but you have to understand something."

"What?" She asked.

"Your mine now, and I want you to do whatever I tell you to do without question. You're my woman now."

"Yes, Frank. Tell me what you want me to do. I'll do anything."

"It won't be easy. I might feel like parading you around sleazy bars like a whore or maybe require you to wear sluttish outfits on a whim."

Yes, Frank, I'll do anything!"

I told the bitch to get her ass over to my place pronto. She arrived quickly and I ordered her to strip and get on hands and knees. She speedily obeyed. I gobbed Astroglide all over my cock and launched the purple warrior head on his first of many excursions up that ready asshole.

"Oh, Frank! You're fucking me up the ass!!" She gasped.

Yep, that's how my new lifestyle began. No more Mr. Nice Guy or giving control to any woman. From now on, I'm the boss and they can love it or leave it. 

It was a whirlwind year after that. I satisfied all my lifelong fantasies, making porno movies, swapping and three-holing Val. And then when I was bored, I just cut the whore loose, go get another.

"Bye bye...Bitch!"

Jose's Story

My hobby is anal virgins. I collect photographs of their deflowering like trophies. After I have photographed and sodomized them, I lose interest, they're just anal sluts. 

One day, Tyrone, a business associate, introduced me to a special lady friend of his.

"I thought you might not mind me doing your lady's back door for a good price on that load of white bricks.

"When?"

"Tonight..."

We had dinner at a swanky resort in the foothills. Val was a striking mature woman indeed and her anal virginity would be a nice coup. Women are always captivated by money and power, and that was nothing for me considering the trade I am in.

She was almost plump to me. Usually, I screw gaunt young starlets from my links with the porn industry. But the desire for rape filled me with lust for blond. Her whole body would be my pleasure instrument and I would use her for my special private amusement.

One of the perks of my job is easy access to all the date rape drugs on the black market. I had her drugged so that when the effects kick in, she will be fully conscious, horny, and ready for the first man to take her. The next day it's only a fogged memory for her. For me, it is that personal knowledge of knowing that I am the one who spoiled her; my first blond becoming just another anal slut in my collection.

I hooked up with Tyrone at the blonds place. When I got there she was going out of her head with sex lust. He gave me a sign that he had slipped the ecstasy in her drink. There was no point in wasting time so I fingered her cunt. She writhed with pleasure and I got her to do some cheesecake. While she pouted into my lens, I knew she was ripe for the taking.

"I want you both to fuck me right now!" She ordered.

"Sure babe, just a few more girly pitchers and then we'll do it, okay baby..." 

Tyrone took her to the couch and got her to mount his cock. The drugs had taken effect. She was wanton, horny and extremely beautiful.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" the bitch wailed while Tyrone pumped her pussy.

The muscle relaxant included in the secret cocktail I slipped her did the job. Now I am ravishing each unspoiled millimeter of her private chamber of pleasure, stretching sinews, thrusting, cockhead bulldozing insistently, each stroke invading deeper, her throbbing submission swallowing each thrust of my engorged cock pumping up her yielding ass.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh." She moaned sexily to my furious rape of her bowels. She was in a sex/drug-induced ecstasy; where pain only enhances orgasm. I told her how beautiful she was and that I only wanted the photos for my private collection and that I will not post them on the Internet because I don't want them to be cheapened by a public display. After the act was consummated, she would be just another anal whore, but having the conquest of her virgin flesh on film would capture the moment of spoiling forever.

"Tell me what I want to hear, Val."

"Oh, Jose! Fuck me up the ass!" 

The bitch was a trip. Her skin was well cared for and moist, like the finest of women. I clutched her firm teats ravishing them in my hands as my triumph over the beauty went to my head. 

I bellowed like a bull spurting semen up supple colon, blustering and imbued with the pomposity of sodomizing her tender virgin flesh. Now, she was mine, my property to sport and boast about. 

We all fell into a heap of orgasmic bodies. So refreshing, because she was just the right woman. I was proud of my bodily fluids dripping profusely from the beautiful white woman's yawning hole. 

I enlisted Tyrone's furtherance to capture a few more shots while her sphincter was still dilated from my deflowering, her gaping orifice announcing her anal slut-hood.

"Tyrone, would you angle her face so it's in this shot of her ass!" 

I snapped off the last few shots in the camera. She was getting kind of dreamy, so we all just kind of relaxed for a while.

Later on, the pretty blond fell asleep and Tyrone and I went out for a smoke. There wasn't much to say. I was satisfied with the deal, Tyrone grinned at the pile of bricks worth a fortune. 

I was happy to get the load off my hands even though I could have fetched a better price. elsewhere. But, now I'm free to pursue my favorite pastime. I tapped my pocket to make sure my camera was still there. 

My mind was already lost in thoughts of cropping and air brushing those most intimate photos of my trophy; I downloaded the load of high-resolution flash shots of the blond to my private collection of anal sluts. It would help pass the time on the long flight to Bogotá in my Lear. 

Trilogy 01



01: Emily Learns To Suck

Thanks, Katherine, for the wonderful moments of intense arousal we have shared whilst composing these stories!

Emily ran as fast as her heeled shoes and tight skirt would allow her. It was a short distance from the corner, but the rain and wind slowed her progress. Anxiously she rang the doorbell. 

Melanie opened the door with an irate look on her face. "What took you so long? You are late for your lesson."

Emily stammered out a weak apology as best she could, "Melanie, I am so terribly sorry. It is pouring rain outside. I could not get a cab. The bus was packed. I ran as fast as I could. I am so terribly sorry."

Melanie was not appeased. "Emily, you are five minutes late. Everyone has been waiting for you. Take off your coat and start your lesson."

"Melanie, I am so sorry. Should I take off my clothes as well?"

"Emily, you are wasting my time. He is ready for you. Get started."

Emily took off her coat and tossed it nervously on the bench at the doorway. She stared at Melanie. Normally on Tuesday nights it was Emily who wore the stern Head Mistress attire. Today the roles seemed reversed; it was clear that Melanie was going to be the Head Mistress this evening. Clad in a very tight-fitting corset, she had a garter belt holding her stockings, high-heeled shoes, and a nice necklace around her neck. Emily looked at Melanie with desire and apology. The crotch was open; Emily stared at Melanie's thick, dark mat of pubic hair. Her eyes raced up Melanie's torso. Her breasts were pushed up, her nipples protruding boldly and very visibly. Often on Tuesday nights when the women got together, they ended up bare-breasted after two glasses of wine, and Emily had often stared at Melanie's. The rich fullness of Melanie's nipples had been the center of many a longing stare by Emily. 

Emily tore her eyes off Melanie and made her way very nervously to the living room. Many people [men and women] were present, sitting or standing around, evidently waiting for Emily's arrival. All were totally undressed. On the floor a young man was totally naked, lying down, his limbs wide apart and securely strapped to chairs and tables. His cock was flaccid. 

Melanie's stern voice brought Emily back to reality. "Start sucking, slut. Start sucking his cock."

Emily got down on all fours. She had no idea what she was supposed to do, and much less to a flaccid cock. Nicely, she took it in her hands to bring some life into it. Melanie yelled at her, "Slut, keep your hands off of him! Just start sucking."

Emily did as best she could, getting all of the man's cock into her mouth, starting to suck. It was so small! The men and women were smiling at her. She had never ever felt so humiliated in her life. True, Emily had never really sucked a cock before. Yes, she had kissed a few cocks in her days, and maybe even licked a few here and there at times. But, much as she had really been intrigued by the wonders she had heard about oral sex, the very few partners she had had in her life all had been turned off by "kissing down there."

The men and women smiled at her, understanding her predicament, and making her humiliation even more complete. They were smiling and adding suggestions.

"Suck, bitch, suck!"

"Suck it, Emily slut, and move your mouth up and down!"

"Emily, you can surely do better than that! Suck it hard and roll your tongue over its head!"

"Emily slut, use your lips to slide his foreskin all the way back and roll your tongue over it!"

Emily did as best she could, obeying the suggestions, feeling whorish and humiliated. This was a lot worse than she could have imagined. It was so demeaning. She wanted to bolt out the door. As if reading her mind, the young man started to respond to her humiliation. His cock started getting longer and harder. With every movement of her mouth, Emily was getting the young man erect. Her desperation and anger started to give way to a feeling of proud accomplishment. Fully erect and very hard, the young man had a very long cock, not unusually thick, but very delicately sculptured. And now Emily felt her own arousal taking over her body. On all fours, hands and knees on the floor, she concentrated her mouth and her attention on the young man's throbbing cock.

Just when things were starting to go well, Emily felt Melanie walk around to her back, raise up her tight skirt, and stretch her panty those up to reveal her knickers. Some men and women gathered round to get a better view. Melanie seemed to smile, letting them see Emily's knickers. In one swift movement, Melanie pulled Emily's panty hose and knickers all the way down to her knees! Then men and women gasped, seeing Emily's exposed derriere!

Emily stopped sucking the young man's hard cock, raising her head up, instinctively reaching with her hand to pull up her knickers. Melanie's stern voice put her back in her place. "Keep sucking, slut! Your lovely ass and beyond are mine now!"

Emily, even more humiliated now, forced to suck a man's cock in the presence of everyone, making it very clear to all that she had no idea what she was doing, and that she was learning for the first time how to suck a cock. To make matters worse, Emily felt that the entire world was looking at her derriere. Mercifully, Emily thought, with her knickers around her knees, her legs were more or less closed and people would not be able to see much more beyond that.

How wrong Emily was!

Melanie was laughing, thoroughly enjoying herself, proudly showing off her novice student who for the first time was learning how to suck a man's cock properly. The men and women kept giving Emily advice. To show how happy Melanie was, she turned to one of the men, "Would you like to do the honors and start?"

Emily suddenly felt a thousand worlds come crashing on top of her! The man knelt behind her, and without even the courtesy of an introduction, without even as much as a modest greeting, he plunged his shaft right up her pussy!

All the way up! And what a huge cock this man must have! Emily thought he was going to come out through her throat! He was pumping away, sliding in and out of her with no respite in sight. Emily tired to lurch up, to arch her back to accommodate that huge cock up her pussy. 

Melanie brought her back to her lesson. Shoving her head none too nicely back down, "Emily slut. Keep sucking cock. The rest of your body belongs to all of us. We can do everything and anything with you. Your lesson is to suck this nice man's cock. And keep your hands off his body and off yours as well."

Emily did as told, tears in her pretty eyes, sucking the young man's cock as best she could, applying all she was learning, using all the advice she was hearing. The man kept thrusting deep into her pussy and back out. 

"This bitch sure is hot and wet!" 

The women laughed. One of them said, "And I bet she is super tight, too! With the knickers around her knees and all, she must be tighter than a virgin in high school!"

Emily was starting to feel incredibly aroused. She was sucking the young man's cock with enthusiasm. She suddenly felt that she might cum and any moment. And she could feel the man inside her also getting desperate. "Just one more minute, please, and we will be cumming together," Emily was thinking.

How wrong she was!

Yes, the man inside her felt he was almost ready. Suddenly, he pulled out of Emily's pussy, grabbed her head by the hair, turned her around, and shoved his huge cock into her mouth. He held still for an instant. Emily froze solid for that same instant. In a matter of a few seconds, the man shot an incredibly huge load of cum into her mouth!

Emily gagged.

The sheer volume of his cum, the strange taste of his semen and her own wetness, the immediate difference in cock size between this man and the young man she had been sucking on was so surprising to her! Emily just did not know what to do, much less did she have the presence of mind to swallow it all. Nor, for that matter, did Emily yet have the skills it takes to swallow an entire load of cum. Most of it dribbled lazily down Emily's mouth, onto her jacket and blouse.

Melanie was furious. She walked over, took Emily's head by the hair and raised it. Emily's face was just against Melanie's pubic mat. "Listen, Emily slut, and listen carefully. You are going to learn to swallow without gagging. Is that clear? And now, lick my cunt, you lazy whore!"

Emily had often wondered, after their Tuesday night meetings, what it would be like to taste Melanie's pussy. Now the moment had arrived. Emily tentatively started to lick it, trying to get her tongue into the slit. Just when she managed to get her tip through the pubic mat, Melanie pushed her away. "Go back to sucking, slut!"

The young man had lost his erection. Emily, on all fours, had to start all over again. Sucking, pulling out, sliding back, using her tongue and lips over its head and foreskin, Emily started to get him hard again.

Emily suddenly had a stark realization. 

She was the only one who was still fully dressed. Everyone else, the men and women were totally naked. 

Also, she was the only one who was performing. Everyone else was just watching, telling her how to suck cock, but otherwise, just sitting or standing around.

True, some couples were fondling each other; a couple of women were holding hands and kissing on occasion. Off in a distant corner, Katherine and Andrea, who had become intense lovers just a few weeks before, were totally naked, their hands casually open their shoulders and caressing each other's breasts and behinds.

Well, almost everyone was totally naked. Caren, insanely beautiful, was wearing high-heel shoes and a nice diadem on her head, as she walked around offering the guests beverages, lighting cigars for the men, and leaning way over to pick up empty glasses. In her natural beauty, Emily was yearning to be able to admire Caren as she truly was, and perhaps even to be able to also reach out and touch her, like everyone else was doing so freely. 

And of course, Melanie, in her Head Mistress tight corset, calling the shots. What would it be like, to eat Melanie while Caren watched?

Her dreams were shattered once again. Another man had plunged into her pussy! Again, while Emily was desperately learning to suck cock, another man was fucking her with reckless abandon! Only that Melanie was encouraging this one differently, "Rub her clit! Emily loves it when you rub her clittie really hard while fucking her! Go ahead. She loves it, and the harder, the more she likes it!"

And just like the first man, this one was fucking Emily long and hard, abusing her clittie with his hands. And just like the first man, just when Emily knew she and he were about to cum, he pulled out, yanked her head around, slid his massive cock deep into her mouth and exploded!

This man was much better than the first. At least, he shoved his cock so deep into Emily's gaping mouth, and it was so lubricated from her wetness that he managed to deep-throat her. His semen went directly down her esophagus. Emily did not stand a chance. The men and women all around seemed very impressed with Emily's newly acquired swallowing skill.

Melanie waited until he was finished. She went over to Emily, and again pulled her head up by the hair. "Listen, Emily slut. When you suck a man's cock and swallow his cum, never ever look away. Look at him in the eye. Make eye contact. Look at him. The more you look into his eyes and the more you stare at him when he is cumming, the more you are going to realize what a slut you are. Now, eat me!"

Emily had never felt so humiliated. She felt like a trashy tramp. Everyone was watching her bumbling, first steps into the realm of oral sex. She had no idea what she was supposed to do. She did not know how to do all the things they were telling her to do. And to make it all worse, she was supposed to look in the eye at a total stranger that was fucking her and ejaculating in her mouth?

Again, Melanie awoke her from her revelry. "I said, eat me, slut!" Emily realized Melanie's cunt was pressed against her mouth. Melanie had lowered herself just a bit to open her legs a few inches. Hungrily, scared and tentative, Emily started to lap Melanie's labia. It tasted so strange! So much like her own! She wanted to continue. "Emily slut, it looks like you are also going to have to take lessons in clittie sucking, bitch. You have no idea how to eat a woman. Now get back to sucking cock!"

And so Emily kept learning how to suck cock with the patient young man, who would lose his erection every so often. And all along, a man would suddenly appear from behind, fuck her to the verge of a climax, and then he would ejaculate in her mouth.

Katherine and Andrea respectfully asked Melanie for permission to proceed. With everyone in attendance watching closely, Katherine raised first one of Emily's knees, then the other, to slide off her panty hose and knickers. Emily felt a surge of wetness flow between her suddenly opened thighs. 

Andrea helped Emily raise her torso. Kissing Emily gently on the mouth, Andrea held her up while Katherine took off her jacket, her blouse, and undid her brassiere. Emily was now totally naked, in full sight of everyone present. Katherine and Andrea whispered in her ears, wishing her good luck, kissed her lightly, and gently lowered Emily's pretty face back onto the young man's cock. Emily resumed sucking it, now almost expertly. Andrea started to fondle and massage Emily's large, full, ripe breasts, kneading her dark, engorged nipples. From behind, Katherine started to finger Emily's pussy, lightly and deliberately, fingering deep, feeling and probing and exploring, searching her G-spot. Occasionally, Katherine would withdraw her fingers (plural) and move them slowly up and down Emily's crack, darting one very wet finger into her virgin ass, and resuming her work on Emily's pussy. Her other hand entertained Emily's throbbing clit, teasing it, taunting it, twirling it around mercilessly.

All along, Emily more than eagerly was sucking the young man's cock, making sure to keep her eyes locked with his. Two men, of the many that had already fucked Emily that evening, came close, brought their own cocks very close to her face, and started to masturbate right there, next to her mouth, right over the young man's face. His eyes started to water.

"Make it last forever," Emily screamed in her mind!

Suddenly, it happened.

It had to happen.

There was no way it could not have happened.

Emily felt waves upon waves of orgasms crash hard on her body. She was entering what was to become her longest, most powerful, most intense series of orgasms she had ever felt!

She struggled with all her might to keep sucking the young man's cock.

The men sensed her wild joy. In response, they too simultaneously started to have their own orgasms, splashing semen onto Emily's pretty face, dribbling down on the young man's face. Emily was in sexual paradise!

She fought to keep her eyes open and locked into his.

He read her eyes.

The young man started his own orgasm.

It was a long, continuous flow of ejaculate.

His powerful contractions propelled more and more ejaculate in a continuous stream into her mouth.

Unlike the other men who had exploded in her mouth, Emily sensed the young man was unique and special. His ejaculate was smooth, creamy, so deliciously sweet!

Emily shook wildly again as another wave of orgasms rattled her body!

They gasped at the majesty and beautiful splendor of Emily's orgasm!

Andrea gave Emily's raw nipples one last tug.

Emily moaned with delight.

Katherine gave Emily's clit one last twirl.

It was too much.

Emily arched back wildly.

Her body lurched up.

She let out a scream as the final orgasm drained her of all her energy.

The men and women fell silent in admiration.

Emily, in her abject humiliation and total service, had performed admirably. She had been used and abused; she been totally humiliated in public; she had been called a slut and had the most secret parts of her femininity exposed and explored. Emily was unbelievably proud of her sexual prowess this evening. She had never ever felt like such an erotic woman as today. She beamed with modest pride. Her pretty face glowed with the pride of her accomplishment!

They broke out in a round of applause.

Emily blushed profusely. She did not know what to say or how to thank them for their sincerity and their display of approval.

Katherine and Andrea helped her thrashed body down, letting her lie down next to the young man whose cock had been her first lesson in sucking.

"What took you so long?" she asked him feebly.

He was too tired to answer. He just looked at her lovingly.

Katherine leaned next to Emily. "Emily darling, this is Joseph. He is gay and was not turned on sexually by you. We invited him as our guest to be your learning mannequin. He would have total self-control throughout your lesson. Only when the two men started to masturbate on his face did he get sexually aroused and cum in your mouth."

Emily smiled weakly. She tried to raise her head, but she was too tired even for that. 

Andrea and Katherine understood. Both leaned over, and kissed Emily softly. Emily thanked them for the best orgasm of her life.

Andrea and Katherine looked at one another and smiled that secret smile that bounds secret lovers. Their lips touched.

Melanie stepped over them, happy and proud of Emily's sexuality. Turning to her guests, "You must admit Emily performed superbly! Let's have another round of applause for her. And let the real sex begin! Shall we?"

All cheered and clapped. 

Emily knew her life had changed forever and ever. She too tried to cheer and clap, but her body was too weak even for that.

All were now ready to begin anew.

All were eager to see where the Tuesday Foursome would take them in the sequel.



Trilogy 02



02: Together - The Auction

Thanks, Katherine, for the wonderful moments of intense arousal we have shared whilst composing these stories!

Katherine and Andrea were lying together in bed, touching, kissing lightly, whispering sweet little nothings into each other's ears, as lovers are wont to do after passionately making love together.

In the adjoining bedroom, Melanie, Caren, and Emily were sound asleep on the large bed, their limbs hopelessly intertwined, the scents of love making wafting around.

Andrea's fingers roamed over Katherine's body. All week, Andrea looked forward to that special moment when they would spend a night in intimacy, their total nudity forging the strongest bond possible between two women. Every other night of the week belonged to their respective husbands, in their marital bedrooms. But Tuesday nights was the special moment of feminine intimacy and womanly love.

They were recounting the evening that had just passed, laughing and kissing with every comment. "Did you see how she fucked like a bunny!"

Women do not need to get into words too much: both knew whom the "she" in question was.

They laughed.

"And did you see how well she gave blow jobs!"

There was no doubt in their minds who the other "she" was. [For the reader who is new to the Tuesday Foursome, Caren was notorious for her verbal and oral skills.] 

"And it looks like we made a tidy profit, too!"

Katherine and Andrea laughed. Hosting an evening like this was an expensive proposition. With semen flowing as freely as the champagne that Caren had offered all night, and with serving light food to replenish energies depleted after every orgasm, a pretty sum had been advanced. 

It had been Katherine's idea to have an auction at the end. Katherine, Melanie, Caren, and Emily had put up for auction the knickers they were wearing at the start of the evening. Their guests, men and women, successively bid higher and higher for each pair of knickers. When there was a winner, the owner of that pair would don them one last time, get her juices to wet them, and then take them off. She would autograph the pair, and present it to the winning bid. What a clever idea Katherine had! To think that four lucky guests would walk away each with a pair of wet, autographed knickers as a party favour had been a stroke of genius!

Katherine nestled up close to Andrea. She yearned to be in Andrea's reassuring arms. Katherine was feeling tenderly affectionate. After all, just a few hours ago, she had royally fucked two men, scarcely an hour apart, had masturbated a third man to a really nice climax in her hands, and had given a fourth man a blow job. While he was still pulsating in her mouth, the last droplets oozing out of his cock, he had gently touched her pretty face, leaned over and told her, "You are the best cock sucker in the whole universe!" Katherine remembered she had blushed at being rewarded with such a polite compliment.

Feeling very attached to Andrea, Katherine whispered hoarsely, "Andrea, darling love, what shall be plan for next week?"

Alas, Katherine was already too exhausted to hear Andrea's ideas. The deepest slumber, the slumber of the right-after, had already filled her expressive eyes. Her mind was gone into the Land of Erotic Dreams... 



Trilogy 03



03: Raising The Bar

Thanks, Katherine, for the wonderful moments of intense arousal we have shared whilst composing these stories!

Emily felt thoroughly satisfied with the performance. Sitting down comfortably on the couch next to Mr. Blake, she motioned Melanie over. "You have always been my trusted deputy. Now you can be the Acting Head Mistress for the rest of the evening!"

Melanie bowed deeply in appreciation. She stood up tall and straight, her high heels making her seem even more majestic in her demeanor. The black corset, tight around her torso revealed a body intent on carrying out her orders and commands on a whim. She walked around, sternly surveying the room and the guests.

Men and women stared at The Splendid Enormity of Melanie's Breasts.

Overflowing out of the corset, they showed their generous fullness, their size to overfill any brassiere; the nipples crowning such huge breasts were dark and erect. Below the waistline, Melanie's thick dark pubic hair had the fertile intensity of a tropical rain forest. All men and women present knew that this was not going to be an easy evening.

"Caren, get the cameras and the video. I want lots of good pictures of tonight. And make sure I get a lot of close-up shots as well."

Caren smiled, obeying the sharp orders. Emily and Mr. Blake nodded approvingly.

Melanie's stern gaze fell upon one of the men. He was Jonathan's son from his first marriage with "the tramp."

"Marc, what's wrong with you? Scared seeing your step-mom naked for the first time?"

Marc looked ashamedly down at the floor. A young, strong, athletic man with a very large body and absolutely no body fat whatsoever, and yet his penis was hopelessly flaccid. Obviously, incest was the very last thing on his mind when "Mommy" had asked him to go with her to a small gathering with her friends.

Melanie snickered; she nodded her head slightly to Caren. Caren immediately got the unspoken command and took a series of pictures: Marc's full body, muscular and totally naked, his cock totally flaccid, and then a short burst of close-ups of his cock.

Emily and Mr. Blake seemed please so far. Melanie felt emboldened. She turned to Joseph, Katherine's husband. He too was totally naked, standing almost ashamed, his cock just as flaccid as Marc's.

Melanie walked over to Joseph, looking at him from head to toe. "So what is the matter with you? Never seen your wife Katherine totally naked out of bed? Or is it that even in bed your wife does not let you see her naked?"

Joseph blushed in shame. Caren again took pictures, and again, close-ups of his very flaccid cock.

Melanie did not let go. "Now let me think. I think Katherine wears the trousers in your house. And I think you, Joseph, wear the knickers. Caren, let me see how Joseph looks in Katherine's colorful and festive knickers."

The guests smiled.

Caren found Katherine's in the pile of knickers that each woman had placed on the dining room table and helped Joseph wear them. They were tight around the hips, of course, but seemed to fit nicely. Suddenly, Joseph started to get a slight erection. Melanie stepped back and laughed, "He does look a lot nicer in knickers! Caren, photo this!"

Melanie turned to Marc. "And you, young man, will wear Caren's knickers."

Thus the two men stood in the middle of the room, dressed in knickers, waiting for the other foot to fall.

Emily motioned Melanie over and whispered something in her ear. Melanie turned to the guests, "The Deputy Head Mistress would like me to fuck the man with the strongest cock!"

Everyone applauded such a wise decision.

Quickly, Caren brought out a bar bell and secured weights on either end. Another set of skimpy black nylon knickers held it in place. Melanie announced, "Ok, guys, time play to Raise The Bar. Marc, your Mommy is going to do some things. Joseph, your wife will do some things. Maybe seeing them will get you nice and hard for me. Let's get started."

No one knew where she was heading. Melanie turned to Katherine and Andrea, they too totally naked, who all evening had been in each other's arms in loving embrace, feeling each other up. "You two love birds, time to earn your keep. Let me, your husband, your stepson, and everyone else see you love each other passionately."

Caren reached into the drawer and took out a very long, crystal clear double dildo. A coin was tossed and Katherine won. Gently, delicately Andrea inserted it slowly into Katherine's slippery-wet cunt, letting her moan with intense pleasure. It seemed to go in forever. Just as slowly, Andrea pulled it out and sucked the dildo's head, savoring Katherine's love juices.

Then it was Katherine's turn to do the same.

Back and forth, Katherine or Andrea would fuck the other with the dildo and then suck on it, just like Emily had recently learned to suck cock.

All along, Caren was busy taking pictures, full-body and close-ups.

Melanie looked at Marc and Joseph. Their erections were throbbing. Both men's cocks were straining at the black nylon knickers; both men were raising the bar. Melanie smiled, "Caren, more weight! Let's see how strong each man is. After all, I will fuck the stronger of the two!"

All the guests were enjoying themselves immensely! And Emily and Mr. Blake were approving of Melanie's command of the situation.

But Melanie pressed on, "OK, love birds. Let me see you both have intercourse with the dildo!"

Caren had to help Katherine and Andrea get into position so that she could continue taking photos. Both women had the dildo deep inside themselves. It was a matter of sliding out of one and deep into the other; then to reverse its direction. Both women were wildly dilated. Its motion was smooth and easy.

It was a superb moment!

Katherine kept looking at her husband, Joseph. Normally so totally unwilling and incapable of servicing her sexually at home, and this evening his cock seemed much bigger than ever before, raising a bar with weights, delicately adorned in her knickers!

Andrea could not take her eyes off her stepson, Marc. So many nights masturbating all alone in her bed after making love to her husband, knowing her stepson was in the adjoining bedroom, mostly likely sound asleep after kissing "Mommy" good night.

Caren kept taking lots of pictures and videos for her already extensive pornographic collection. Katherine's THUNDER THIGHS provided some magnificent photo opportunities for entries in subsequent contests.

Katherine and Andrea started to climax almost at the exact same moment. Melanie was too good for this. She did not let them. Instead, she ordered Caren to take out the dildo and let the women lie in each other's arms. Lovers that Katherine and Andrea had become, it was a moment of secret intimacy, a moment of calm before the storm that was to be unleashed upon their quivering bodies.

Emily whispered something in Melanie's ear; Melanie nodded and did likewise to Caren. Caren nodded, put the huge dildo under hot water, and bent it into a "U" shape.

Melanie announced a tie between Joseph and Marc: both men had equally strong cocks. The guests applauded as Caren removed the weighted bar, but left the two men in the women's knickers.

Melanie ordered Katherine and Andrea to lie down on their sides, facing away from each other, but their backs touching.

Melanie nodded at Caren, who smiled knowingly. Gently, she slipped the double dildo into Katherine and Andrea and moved it around a bit. Both women moaned happily.

Melanie called out, "That's enough, Caren. Now, do it!"

Caren slipped out the dildo from both women. It was slippery wet, oozing each woman's love juices. In one fell sweep, Caren quickly and expertly slipped it into each woman's very tight ass, its "U" shape fitting just right, both women now joined by a common dildo up their very tight asses. Both women seemed surprised, reluctant, gasping and arching their torsos upon penetration, sighing once the head had finally passed their sphincters.

Melanie laughed and called out, "Now, for the finale! The award for the tie for the strongest cocks in town! Let's hear it for Joseph and Marc!"

All the guests clapped.

"Joseph and Marc, you may fuck now."

Joseph and Marc started to approach the two women lying on their sides, backs touching, joined from behind by a common dildo.

Emily stood up.

All the guests bowed respectfully.

As Head Mistress, all deferred to her experience and her wisdom.

"Marc, you will fuck Joseph' wife, Katherine. And Joseph, you will fuck Marc's mommy. Both at the same time!"

All the guests clapped; Melanie kissed Emily respectfully; Caren started to take an incessant stream of photos and videos.

Lying side by side, backs touching, joined by a common dildo up their very tight asses, Katherine saw for the first time in her life her husband perform sexually, and with her lover, Andrea, no less! And Andrea saw for the first time in her life her step-son perform sexually with her lover, Katherine, no less!

The reader will surely shudder at the power, thunder and awe of the foursome's simultaneous orgasms, which shook Emily's house to its very foundations.

That foursome orgasm is still to this day the talk at the local pub -- and in counties in all four directions of the compass.



Trilogy



The woman sat on a camp stool, her face and shoulders drooped as if shouldering an oppressive weight, the expression on her face fragile and cold, almost bitterly so. She seemed preoccupied, almost as if lost in a daydream, as she chewed on the cap of a ballpoint pen. UN Peacekeepers in dry, dusty uniforms drifted around her like old smoke, as oblivious to her as she was to the quiet, withdrawn sunrise that promised only another day of relentlessly oppressive heat. The troops, a mix of Pakistani and Kenyan men, loaded boxes of medical supplies and furled tents into mud-caked white trucks; in the stillness feverishly shocked refugees looked on from cots around the woman. They seemed resigned to an unseen, patiently waiting fate.

The woman, middle-aged and somewhat tough looking, had a telephone in her hand, an Inmarsat BGAN satellite telephone, and she looked at it with sure dread in her heart, the way one might hold a dead snake. She had been waiting for a call, yet even before the phone rang she knew what the answers to her questions would be. They were stupid questions, she muttered to herself, tiresome because of their relentless futility. But like the sick people surrounding her, she had run out of options -- and now everyone knew, everything was out in the media now. Aid agencies had been expelled from Darfur because Sudan's leader had been charged with War Crimes by the World Court.

But something had changed. The world had run out of options for these people because the vox populi, the "free" press, had lost interest - again. Everyone it seemed, almost everywhere, had constructed complex, interlocking walls of legal terminology to cushion the blow from all the hideous images coming from Darfur, and vacuous infotainment had taken it's place. Incessant blather replaced intelligent discourse -- and the problem simply vanished in the night... the way homeless people hiding in plain sight always manage to. Yet like the homeless, the kids in this tent had nowhere to hide, for there are no walls to keep away this particular kind of night. Jackals circle outside in the shadows, just beyond the cracking veneer of civilization, predators waiting to move in the next time an American idol checks into rehab or drunkenly crashes into another parked car. 

But if you had been in the tent you would have seen something odd in the woman's face: taking care of these children had been her life, her calling, and she could not see beyond the will to protect these innocents that had consumed her. You would have seen the crushing bite to the jugular that comes stalking in the night - because she has seen it all before - and you can feel the pain in her eyes. Yet, she methodically pokes away the sandy topsoil on the top of her boot, looks at the reddened dryness that has settled on her shoelaces, then reaches down to the ground and picks-up some of the scorched earth and sifts it through her fingers. 

"Sand in an hourglass," she says quietly. You would note she speaks English out of habit, but she is from France. The phone rings while the last of the reddened earth runs from her fingers. She brushes her hands on her thighs and opens the phone: "Yes? Paul? Yes, bad connection!" she says too loudly. All the children stare uneasily at her, then at one another. They have seen her face and they know.

She listens, is too tired to interrupt, or to even plead anymore. 

"Ocampo backed us up, didn't he? And the government won't back down?"

She listens, covers her head as if warding off blows.

"Will we at least have an escort?"

She listens, shakes her head as if she can't believe what she's hearing.

"Paul, you can't be serious! That's absurd! You can't believe that... they'll never give us safe conduct! Not now!"

Her head is in her hands now, and she is almost in tears. She wants to ignore the voice on the other end of the line but she can't. She is as trapped as any other patient in her little clinic; she can feel the spreading dread in the anxious faces looking her in the eye, yet she is unaware they simply mirror her own expression.

"Paul! Please! Do you know how many new cases we have here now? More than five last night! More this morning. What? Yes, yes, confirmed meningitis. Multi-resistant TB is presenting now as well in some of the older men, in numbers I've never seen before. Have you been able to get..."

She pauses, listens, then stabs violently at the air with an outstretched finger.

"Paul, no! That will not be enough and you know it." Another pause; her hands are shaking now. "I think a few will stay, regardless, but not enough. Yes, a few of the nurses, the local ones, perhaps. And a few of the nuns that arrived last week have said they will stay. But that's fewer than ten, Paul, for more than ten thousand. And don't forget that's with a strong vector within the children. Okay, I know you understand! There are twenty five hundred kids under age ten, in this camp alone, Paul! A fifty percent mortality rate! Do you hear me!?"

A young man walks into the tent, stops dead in his tracks when he hears the woman talking about these high mortality rates. He fidgets with a camera, an old Leica M, and pretends he isn't listening to the woman while he threads a fresh roll of Kodachrome through the base.

"Goddamn it, Paul. You're asking me to commit murder!" She listens again, but now her face is contorted and red: "Chad! You can't be serious! Those camps are already overcrowded! What about Nyala? Why can't we... You can't be serious! Paul! No!"

But apparently, the young man thinks, Paul is serious. He looks up from his camera, looks at the woman and not knowing what else to do he takes her picture. She ignores the young man as one might a noisome fly; he takes another picture of her, moves slowly away to take pictures of children in the shadows bathed in fevered sweat. He watches the woman as she turns away from him, listens as she lowers her voice a little. He can feel the familiarity in her voice now, like maybe once upon a time she and Paul were more than friends.

He turned and looked at her again. She was one of the French docs, some kind of infectious disease specialist from Paris or Lyon. She looked sixty, maybe older, but willowy in a soft-faced kind of way, and he might have thought her beautiful even so but for the dark circles under her eyes. He looked on while she told Paul she would check-in once the convoy reached Nyala, then she broke the connection and put the phone in a small canvas case by her side.

"I'm supposed to ride with you," the young man tells the woman as he walks up to her. 

The woman turns and looks at this new annoyance: "Excuse me?" He finds her accent thick but her English precise.

"Most of the convoy's already pulled out. Someone told me I'm riding with Hasam. You are too."

"Oh. Yes."

"What was that all about?"

"Staff at al-Bashir. Someone has spoken to the UN there - I think. We have safe conduct to Nyala. But only for today."

"Peachy." The young man looks around the tent. "You going to stay? Tough-it-out here?"

The woman seemed to hesitate on the plains of a vast indecision, then looked at the young man: "Who are you? I've seen you around, but never..."

"Luke. Luke Pattison." He held out his hand. "New York Times."

"Catherine DeSaunier."

"You're with MSF, aren't you?"

"Yes. I've seen you around for a few days. Have you learned much?"

"Oh, hard to say. I flew in with CARE last Wednesday," he said. 

"And?"

"Well, Ma'am. After three years of graduate school, all I can say with certainty is that I'm the bestest, most well-educated do-nothing in all of Sudan!"

The woman tried to smile at the young man's humor. "We all chose our place, don't you think? One way or another?"

"I suppose. Can I help you with anything?"

She looked down at the case by her side, bent over to pick it up. "No. We'd better go now."

The woman stood and walked over to a nurse; they speak for a moment, exchange knowing looks and a brief hug, then Catherine walks with the young man into the softly gathering morning.

+++++

The air conditioning in the Toyota SUV belches foggy blasts of drenching mist from time to time, and Catherine DeSaunier wipes droplets from her arm after the latest dousing. Hasam, the driver, rattles on about Chinese technocrats and how it is they, not the Darfuri rebels, who are the real threat to the Sudan. Catherine detests the man. His rodent-like face, she tells herself again, does little to hide his true nature; he is a plant, a spy. His job has been to report on the various agencies present at the camp, and their activities, to his handlers in the government. He always has on new Adidas running shoes and truly vile smelling cologne; his extreme body odor and the cheap cologne are potently nauseating.

The Time's photographer sits behind her in the back of the Land Cruiser, entombed within a huge pile of shifting cardboard boxes. She hears him cock the shutter of his Leica and fire away from time to time but he has otherwise been silent. 

"Say, B'wana Luke, you ain't CIA, is you?" she hears Hasam ask, and she can't help moaning.

"What?" she hears the kid say.

"CIA? You CIA, is you now?"

"I wish."

"What you mean, B'wana Luke."

"If I was CIA, Hasam, I wouldn't be riding in the back of this shitty truck!"

"Oh yes, I see. Hah-hah. Yes, I see." Hasam's laughter is polite, unconvinced.

Catherine, however, has never considered the possibility. The kid is too inept to be CIA. She rolls her eyes, looks out the window at the scorched landscape on the other side of the thin glass. "Hasam, how far to the checkpoint?" Though only 40 miles west of the camp in Zalingei they have been on the road for two hours and her bladder aches from the lurching undulations of the drift-strewn road.

"Oh, Doctor-missy, maybe five more miles. Thirty minutes, no more. Many land mines... go slow."

"Hasam," Luke said, "there aren't any goddamn mines on this road and you know it!"

"Oh no, B'wana..."

"It does not matter," Catherine interrupts. "Stop here; I need some privacy."

"Yes, Missy," Hasam leers. She grimaces, hears Luke groan under his breath. The Toyota rolls to a stop on blistering asphalt layered with drifting sand and she gets out, walks to the rear of the Land Cruiser and squats. She finishes while Luke and Hasam walk forward and water the sand.

"Goddamn hot as a pistol out this fine mornin'," Luke says. He watches a marled, dog-like creature trot along a ridge off to the south not fifty meters away; they never take their eyes off one another and a shiver passes down his spine.

"You feel alright?" Catherine asks as she prepares to step back up into the truck.

"Yeah; look at that Jackal. Could you hand me my camera?" 

She reached in for it, handed it to him through the open door: "Here," she said distractedly.

"Thanks." He took a couple of pictures of the jackal as it trot along the ridge, wondered if it might be alone, or part of a larger pack.

"B'wana Luke, we go now. Got to hurry, catch up to others at da checkpoint."

"Right." Luke hopped up into the rear seat and settled in among the tumbling boxes; the Land Cruiser lurched off down the sand-covered highway. He felt about in his vest for another roll of film and took out a fresh box and spooled it into the bottom of the Leica; he looked up from time to time, hoped to see the jackal on the ridge again -- but it is gone now -- gone into the rising thermals and whirling dust-devils that roamed the morning desert. Within a few minutes the checkpoint became visible hovering within the shimmering black asphalt ahead.

Troops stood between the road and a little concrete compound off the right side of the road; a village of low mud huts sat baking in the sand far off to the left. Dust from the recently departed convoy was still visible, suspended in the thermals over the road. 

Hasam pulled up to the checkpoint and spoke with one of the soldiers; anger boiled in the air, hostility seethed in the soldier's penetrating eyes. Words, hostile, hate-filled words, passed like bullets between the two, then the soldier waved them through - but the man glared at Pattison as they passed; other soldiers filled in behind the Toyota as it drove away and watched Luke through the back glass. One of the soldiers turned to speak into a radio. Pattison thought about taking a photograph of him but changed his mind when he saw the AK-47s the other held at their sides. 

"Very angry," Hasam said. "Army very mad now."

"Why do you think that is, Hasam?" Catherine said.

"They say you are spy. All of you. You work for this Ocampo."

She nodded, couldn't think of a thing to say. After working in Africa off and on for almost twenty years she was used to dealing with closed minds and official suspicion, but in Somalia and here, in the Sudan, institutionalized paranoia had reached new extremes over the past few years. And now that oil had been discovered in the Sudan by Chinese geologists, any excuse to rid the government of meddlesome western do-gooders would come only as a welcome relief. That perhaps several million ethnic Africans would have to die to sate China's appetite for oil was a consequence of merest inconvenience to al-Bashir and his thugs. Yet she knew the West had more than its fair share of blood on its hands, too; enough to last a thousand years. Words kept running through her head: 'For whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap,' or words to that effect. She smiled at the thought, smiled at the grim worth of the words. 

China had simply moved in to fill the void left by the West's brutal colonial incompetence; the Chinese were simply the newest jackals circling in the dark. Catherine was sure they'd be just as effective stripping flesh from bone as the Americans had been, and the British before them. Things don't fall apart, she told herself grimly. The strong simply pick apart the weak and eat them -- the way they always have. Soon these African's would have new masters, and the weak would take the same path they always have.

The highway ahead was smoother here and soon they were eastbound on well-finished asphalt. Catherine saw they were making good time now and found she was sleepy. She closed her eyes, saw the cold black eyes of jackals on the prowl -- and she turned away from them until sleep came for her.

+++++

She felt her head lurch, glimpsed sleep-born images of burning fevers and smoldering villages darting across her mind's eye and she jerked awake, forced her eyes to focus on the harsh landscape beyond the dust-caked windshield. Hasam was chewing some sort of twig; predictably it smelled awful -- like cloves masticated to ammonia -- and he was listening to pulsating music on an old iPod. But now the convoy was visible; they were still ahead but now by no more than a kilometer or so. She sat up, rubbed her eyes and fought to suppress the overwhelming sense of relief that comes from a belief in strength in numbers. She heard Luke fiddling with his camera in the back seat, wondered how long she had been out...

... when the windshield exploded...

... she screamed reflexively, covered her eyes as shattered glass bounced off her arms, then she tensed when she felt the Toyota veering off the road towards a small drop-off...

... she heard gunfire, very close and apparently very accurate -- because more glass shattered and rained down on her head...

... the Toyota lurched and dove violently into a dry riverbed...

... airbags deployed, the cabin filled with dust and bouncing glass...

... she heard Hasam gurgling, looked over, saw him clutching at his neck...

"Jesus Fucking Christ!" she heard Pattison yell... "what the fuck's going on?!"

... the Land Cruiser had slammed to a stop; Hasam's foot still pressing the accelerator pedal all the way down. The truck was jammed into a small depression, pinned in place by the shattered remnants of an earlier flood, the engine roared with furious impotence, tires continued to spin wildly, throwing up a huge dust cloud...

... bullets like hail on a summer afternoon slammed into the left side of the truck... Hasam's body jumped under the impact and blood boiled out his nose, then frothily out his mouth as he fought to breathe.

"We've got to get the fuck out of here!" Pattison said, and though she heard his door opening she felt locked in place, terrified. Then her door flew open, she felt the midday sun searing her consciousness and felt Pattison pushing frantically on her seat-belt release, then his hands on her arms. She felt herself being pulled from the Toyota just as another volley of machine gun fire slammed into the roof. Apparently they were invisible in all the stirred-up dust...

The back wheels were still off the ground completely, the front of the truck pinned in debris, but now there was a large space under the truck and Luke grabbed the woman and shoved her into the shadows, then he ran around and pulled Hasam's body free and pulled him into the makeshift shelter. Luke gasped for breath; Catherine rubbed sand from her eyes, Hasam bled to death slowly between them.

"Can you get my bag?" she whispered through the sound of close small arms fire.

"What? Where?"

"My bag, on the floor by my feet..."

Luke scrambled over to her side of the shadow and looked around, stuck his head then his body into the light before darting up between the open passenger doors. He grabbed her canvas bag and disappeared back into the safety of their shadow.

The physician pulled out a penlight and shone it on Hasam's neck; there were two massive wounds visible, one rimmed with frothy blood pulsing from his wrecked carotid artery. She turned the light off and held his hand, wiped his forehead while he stared up at her, blinking occasionally as death came for him. Soon he lay very still. A huge explosion, a mortar round probably, shook the ground.

"We've got to get out of...," Luke began, but bullets slammed into the truck again, then he heard men clambering down into the riverbed from just overhead, coming for them. 

"Play dead!" he whispered coarsely as he fell to the ground. He saw Catherine fall to the ground and he held his breath as she melted away.

He felt a gun-barrel roughly prod the side of his head and he let his head flop easily away, then someone climbed up into the truck and turned off the engine. The air filled with the sound the hissing and pooping as the engine began cooling, and Pattison could smell antifreeze and gasoline. He chanced a glance at the physician and saw her curled up in a fetal roll, deep in shadow: perhaps they hadn't seen her and that explained why she wasn't being raped right this very moment.

He heard renewed shouting, more gunfire, listened as one of the men overhead screamed into a radio, and then run down the riverbed toward the gunfire.

"We've got to get out of here, and I mean right now!" he whispered; he saw her nod and she reached for her bag, scrambled through the rock to his side.

"Where?"

"Away from here, first. We passed a ridge a while back. I thought I saw some caves there. Do you have that phone?"

"Yes... but..."

"Alright, let's do it..." Pattison pulled himself back into the light, reached back to help her then peeked over the shattered front end of the Toyota. When she was upright he pointed down the riverbed and pointed at some rocks a few hundred yards away. "Stay low! There! Go!"

She ran low and not very fast; he stood, took some bottled water from the truck and crammed them in his camera bag, took a couple of pictures then reached for some brush and ran along behind her trying to wipe away their footprints from the sand until he caught up with her. She was breathing heavily when he reached her; he threw the brush away and took her by the hand, pulled her along the riverbed until they were completely out of sight. 




Trilogy



Still she breathed heavily, alarmingly so. He motioned for her to rest a moment, then climbed up the rocky embankment until he could get his bearings. He looked back toward the west, saw the little escarpment he had made out earlier, reckoned it was about a kilometers back and at least a two kilometers west of the road. The riverbed would shield them from view some of the way. He slid back down the bank and looked at her. She was crying, breathing hard, apparently very scared.

"We're going to be alright," he told her. "Just gotta keep our heads down and put some distance between us and them."

She nodded, fought to understand why this was happening, then she felt his hand take hers once again and she welcomed the feel of his strength as much as she despised herself for needing it. He pulled her along and they trotted in the hard sunlight until they came to a stunted tree. He made for the shadow to rest, but drew up short...

... an old man, African, black as coal, and apparently sound asleep, lay huddled in the shadow...

... not a soldier, the old man was barefoot, wearing old khaki shorts and a tattered brown t-shirt, his brow glistened with sweat...

... he did not appear to be a threat...

They slid into the shade and crouched beside the old man's tree; their arrival startled the old man and he pulled inward. He looked alarmed when he first saw them, then relaxed. He understood.

The old man said something and Pattison recognized practiced French; he cursed himself once again for studying Spanish in high school while he listened to the exchange. Catherine was breathing heavily yet she nodded understanding while she fought to get down as much air as possible; even so she managed to eek out a few words. 

The old man laughed. Pattison heard the word Janjaweed more than once and understood he'd just become a part of Darfur's civil war, in a very up close and personal way.

"What's he saying?" he said when Catherine paused once for breath.

"He saw the convoy drive by, saw the guerillas setting up their ambush. Nothing he could do."

"Is he sick?"

"What do you mean?" she said indignantly. "What would you have done?"

"No, no. Not that. I mean, is he ill. He looks sick as shit!"

She turned and looked at the old man, asked him a couple of questions.

The old man lifted his arms, raised his t-shirt and uncovered his abdomen. There was a grapefruit sized mass protruding from under his rib-cage.

Catherine asked him another question and she nodded at his reply, then turned to Pattison. "A tumor. He's very ill."

"Gee, maybe I shoulda gone to med school..."

"Perhaps you will."

"Ask him about those caves. Does he think we can get to them now or should we wait for dark?"

She turned to the old man and began to speak. 

"Not very safe place," the old man interrupted in halting English. "Many animals, same idea."

"Fuck," Pattson said.

"Indeed yes," the old man said. "Fuck."

The three of them laughed. The old man winced in pain.

"Janjaweed come soon here," the old man said as his pain subsided.

"Well, I'm open to any and all suggestions," Pattison said.

"Hope you choose empty cave," the old man laughed.

"Me too." Pattison said while Catherine wiped more dirt from her eyes. "What's your name?"

"Nimiri. You name?"

"Luke."

"Ah. 'And he shall go before him in the spirit and power of Elias, to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the just; to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.'"

"What?"

"Luke. To make ready the people. This your cause. Why you here."

"What are you talking about?"

The old man seemed confused. "The word of God. You understand?"

"Oh. You mean the Bible?"

"You will choose good cave. I think so now, yes."

They turned as one to the sound of another explosion, saw fresh smoke rising from the convoy, then more gunfire.

"We'd better get going," Pattison said. He turned to Catherine. "We made about half a click that last sprint... think you can make another?"

She shook her head. "I don't know... maybe..."

Pattison stood, Nimiri too; they helped Catherine up and Pattison took her hand and crouched then ran down the riverbed once again -- the physician in tow, the old man a few paces behind. Pattison ran a few hundred yards then pulled up under the shade of another tree, waited for Nimiri to catch up. The old man wasn't breathing hard but was obviously in a good deal of pain. Catherine was gasping for breath, sweating profusely.

He waited for her to regain herself, then pulled her out into the riverbed again. He ran a few steps then stumbled to a halt. A long snake, probably a cobra, undulated across the sand perhaps twenty meters ahead and disappeared into the brush.

"Fuck!" Pattison said under his breath.

"What?" the physician said. "Did you see someone?"

He turned and looked at her, saw she was bent over, looking at the ground. Nimiri, however, had seen the snake. He pointed to the opposite side of the riverbed, then said: "Follow me..."

Pattison fell in behind the old man. They moved more slowly now, smoothly down the riverbed until the escarpment was only a few hundred meters away -- but across open ground. Nimiri let up his relentless pace, waited for Catherine to catch her breath, then looked at Pattison. "Bigger cave, bigger animal call it home. Choose carefully. When you have, I will bring your woman."

"My what? Oh, right." Pattison shrugged, took off in a low run; he moved steadily between clumps of scrub-brush toward the cliff. In many places the wall appeared to be twenty, perhaps even thirty meters tall, but most of the broken ridge was much less than that. Hundreds of caves of all size dotted the cliff, some screamed mortal peril while others looked merely dangerous; it was like some long dormant part of his brain was hard at work interpreting signs he was completely unconscious of...

One cave, however, seemed a good bet. He couldn't say why but he trusted this impulse and made his way through the jumbled rock at the base of the cliff then scrambled upwards until he gained the entrance. It appeared to be about a meter and a half high near the entrance and disappeared into complete darkness beyond a tight turn several meters in. He picked up a rock and tossed it in, listened as it bounced off the walls. 

Nothing. No movement at all. 

He tossed another rock and waited.

Nothing. Only stillness within the shadows.

He walked inside, saw people had once made a campfire inside but whether that was five days ago or five years ago... he simply couldn't tell. He sat deep inside the shadow and listened; when he was sure the cave was unoccupied he made his way back to the entrance and looked across the brush toward Nimiri and Catherine. He could just see them and he waved until he saw Nimiri return the gesture, then he slipped back into shadow and watched their progress through the grass.

He heard an occasional gunshot now, but not many and far away. It was as if the troops were mopping up the scene, dispatching the wounded and collecting all the loot, or perhaps the incriminating evidence. He could still see thick black smoke rising from behind a low hillock and he guessed they were about three kilometers away -- just less than two miles. Would that be enough?

Soon Nimiri and Catherine were at the base of the wall; Luke clambered down and helped her up and over the rocks and within minutes they were settled within their little sanctuary. She leaned back, wiped grimy sweat from her face, watched Luke open his bag and pull out a couple bottles of water and some candy bars, as well as a little yellow GPS unit. She thought of her own bag and reached for it, opened it up and dug around for the Sat-phone, then felt around for the little vacuum-bagged packages of smoked salmon she had stashed in the bottom. She left the food there, buried under a small pile of medical supplies, but she pulled out the phone and turned it on.

"Does your GPS work?" she asked. Luke set about giving the antenna a clear shot at the southern sky, then he pushed the power button, placed the unit on a rock near the entrance so it could pick-up valid signals. "Looks like North twelve degrees, fifty six point two-two and twenty four East, zero two point four zero." She scribbled the coordinates down on a notepad and dialed the phone.

"Paul, listen to me. The convoy has been... ambushed... Paul... please, shut up and listen, write this down..."

Luke looked at the GPS; the batteries were fully charged, would last another 48 hours if left on continuously, but he doubted they'd move again anytime soon so he powered the unit off and listened as Catherine read off their position, then repeated the numbers for good measure. She listened for a good minute then cut the connection.

"Well?" Pattison said. 

"He'll call the UN, maybe the AU..."

"Ah, crap, not the AU! Those idiots! They probably helped stage this goddamn ambush!"

Nimiri frowned, spoke harshly. "Not AU. Good people in AU. Janjaweed did this. Not AU."

"Okay, okay. Doc, you have any food in there?"

She shook her head. "Can you see anything from there?"

"Just some smoke. Fuck, did they figure that location well, or what! Between two fucking bridges! No retreat and no fucking place to run. And did you notice all the fucking black grass?"

"Yeah? What of it?"

"Fuck, man, they've been burning the locals right back into that town..."

"What town?"

"Fuck, man, you sure zonked-out back there. Big village, maybe five, ten clicks back. Lots of orchards and shit, too, then bingo -- less than a mile and it's like we're on the dark side of the moon! Black fields, burned-out village, a couple of bodies in the ditch off the side of the road. Medieval shit, Doc."

But the physician had had enough: "Mister Pattison, it is not medieval! It is Africa. Now. Today." She was visibly fuming, clearly perturbed. "We are so sorry that offends your prim American worldview! But that is why we're here. Why we came. To help. Not to pad our resume!"

"Right, Doc."

"Just because they didn't show you cartoons of this 'fucking shit' at the country club doesn't mean it hasn't been going on right under your snotty little nose for the past thirty years! Understand?"

He looked at the woman, then at Nimiri. He shrugged: "You say so."

"You're goddamn right I say so. I've been here in this medieval shithole for fifteen years, back when your mother was driving you around in her Cadillac to buy you hundred dollar video games! So just sit back and watch, like a good American, and enjoy the show!"

"Look, I think you're being..."

"And try not to think, either. I wouldn't want you to hurt your ass!"

"You're welcome," Pattison said sarcastically.

"What?" Catherine answered as crossly.

"I said, you're welcome. You know, for pulling your fat ass out of the truck, saving your life, that kind of shit. Hey, next time..."

"There won't be a next time, Mister Pattison. Count on that, would you? We'll be lucky to get out of this medieval shithole alive. Do you understand what that means? You're finally going to make it onto CNN!"

"Right. I get the picture."

"Do you. Really?"

"Yep."

She looked at him, at the stuff around him: "Is that all the water you have? What, three liters?"

"Yep. Sorry, I couldn't reach more. Machine gun fire and all. Why don't you go back and get some more? I'll watch this time."

She snorted, leaned back against the smooth rock wall, then began to cry. Pattison looked at Nimiri. The old man was looking him directly in the eye, then he too turned and looked away. Pattison opened one of the candy bars and ate it defiantly.

+++++

Old Soviet-era Mi-8 helicopters make a distinctive wump-wump-wump as they draw near. Their inefficient airfoils don't slip through the air, they beat it up; there is no mistaking when they're anywhere near because the earth rumbles for miles around. On this day, a single white UN helicopter approached from the northeast, flying low over the scorched earth, still well to the east of three people huddled in a shallow cave. The helicopter flew as fast as it could, purposefully just north of the smoldering ambush site; the pilot ignored the burning carnage between the bridges and made a beeline for a low escarpment to the west.

The Janjaweed Commander on the scene had hidden his force long ago, long before, in fact, he'd first heard the helicopter. Government air traffic controllers had been notified of the UN rescue flight and had dutifully passed this information on to the military; the military immediately notified the Janjaweed Commander on the ground and he prepared by spreading his forces east and west of the ambush site.

The Commander watched the helicopter, wondered why it was flying past the burning convoy towards a line of low cliffs a few miles away, then the helicopter banked to the south and began to fly toward his position.

"Take it out!" he shouted to his men hidden in the brush all around.

Two shoulder mounted surface-to-air missiles roared into the sky: the first missed completely; the second slammed into the underside of the main body of the aircraft. Flames and black smoke boiled from the cabin and the commander watched as the struggling pilot auto-rotated and flared too soon. The aircraft hit hard, bounced once and came down again. Before anyone inside could move the aircraft was slammed by heavy machine gun fire.

+++++

"Jesus Fucking Christ!" Pattison shouted; per protocol, Catherine readied her phone again and called MSF Headquarters in Lyon, France. She explained the situation to the duty officer and waited for instructions. She gave their location again and repeated it, was told to limit use of the phone in case someone was trying to home in on them, and given a contact schedule. She broke contact and put the phone away.

Pattison felt the change that had come over the physician: "Was your friend on-board?"

"What?" she said, her voice lifeless, almost flat.

"Your friend, Paul? Was he... in there?" Luke pointed toward the burning wreckage.

She shrugged, her face a blank mask: "I don't know," she said softly.

Nimiri made his way to the entrance, carefully watched as the Janjaweed surrounded the downed helicopter and extracted two people from inside.

"Two yet live," he said, and Catherine darted to the entrance, pulled out a pair of binoculars from her case and looked at the scene below.

She watched, unaware that Pattison too was now by her side, as Paul was led away from the wreckage.

"See anyone?"

"Yes."

"Paul?"

"I -- don't know... maybe... don't...uh... think so."

"What are they doing?"

"I don't... oh my God no!" She stood, prepared to run from the cave but Pattison grabbed her by the waist, pulled her down just as the sound of rifle fire reached the cave. He took the binoculars from her as she crumpled to the ground, settled on the rock and watched as the Janjaweed fired again into the bodies on the ground before them. He turned, dropped the binoculars to the rocky floor, slid back into the cave, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to make sense of the darkness that lay ahead.

"Fuck... fuck..." he whispered as the scene registered again and again.

Nimiri, clutching Catherine by his side, guided her back into the darkness. "Do you know, Luke, for an educated man, you say very little."

"Fuck..."

Nimiri could see the young man had come almost completely unhinged by what he'd seen; Luke had drawn his knees up to his chin, was staring wide-eyed off into space. And yet Catherine too understood what he had seen; despite the pain she felt some deeper maternal instinct kicked in: she went to the young man's side and knelt before him.

"Luke?"

He said nothing. No response at all.

"Luke? Tell me, what did you see?"

Luke's eyes welled up, he gasped for breath: "They're going to kill us... all of us..."

"Luke! Tell me what you saw?"

"I don't want to die like this..."

"How, Luke? Like how? What did you see?"

'With a black sack over my head, a gun pressed-up against the back of my head,' he wanted to say -- but the words just wouldn't come. To utter the words was to acknowledge their truth, the cold reality behind them, and he chose to turn away, run to the comfort of other, more comfortable delusions.

"I didn't see much," he said at last. "They're gone. I hope your friend wasn't out there."

"Paul? He was, Luke. He was the man in the red shirt."

"What did they say on the phone?"

"They will do what they can. They know where we are."

"What they can?" Luke said shrilly. "What the fuck does that mean?!"

"Luke, drink some water," Nimiri said. "You must think with clearness now."

"Clearness..." he said, his voice a faint whisper. "When I was a kid, my dad was killed. He was a pilot, in the reserves. Navy. Was called up for Desert Storm. Shot down the first day."

"Luke?" Catherine whispered. "Violent death never makes sense. It always shocks our sense of proportion, our sense of ourselves, to be reminded so powerfully how fragile life is. And how susceptible we are to the hate that always seems to be out there."

Luke still looked unfocused, unbalanced.

"What did your father fly Luke? You said the navy?"

"F/A-18. He was attacking airfields..."

"Do you think he believed in what he was doing?"

"What?" Luke said haltingly. "Yes, of course."

"Do you think he might have seen purpose in his own death?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

Nimiri spoke now: "Luke, do you see purpose in your life?"

The young man's face lurched, his eyes flinched: "I don't know," he whispered after some time.

The old man nodded, sat down on his haunches; Catherine eased down beside Luke and laid his head on her shoulder, ran her fingers through his hair. They sat quietly for a long while, until a brief outburst of gunfire startled them back into the present.

Catherine pushed herself up, went back to the entrance, stopped to pick up the binoculars as she crawled along the rocks. She peered over the edge, brought the glasses to her eyes and swept the landscape. She saw Janjaweed running down a shallow slope toward the convoy, some of the men still firing into the wreckage. She focused her attention on one truck: there were people in the back, armed people! As the Janjaweed closed the relief workers in the truck opened up, shot several of the guerillas.

"What!" she cried out. "Why are they armed? That is against the rules!" This was, Catherine thought furiously, a breach of the most basic protocol: MSF workers, indeed no relief workers anywhere, went into a conflict zone as an armed force. The UN or some other military force always carried out protective functions. But now someone had violated that most basic rule and the likely outcome was too grim to think about.

"You've got to be kidding me?" Luke said. "They broke a rule?"

"Yes! If people break the rules only more violence will follow!"

"Lady, have you ever considered that there are some people who never follow the rules?"

"Of course! Don't be naïve!"

"Me? Naïve?"

She turned to face down Luke but saw him standing, a rock in his right hand, winding up for a throw. Before she knew it the rock left his hand and whizzed by her head -- she heard the air ripping as it soared past -- then Nimiri reached for her and pulled her forcibly back into the darkness. 

"What the..." But Luke was readying another rock; when the second was arcing away she turned, saw the cobra coiled up not a meter from where she had been just seconds before. Luke's second pitch was perfect; the snake boiled and hissed and disappeared down into the scree below.

"Oh my God, oh my God," she said as she fell into the safety of the old man's arms.

"Shit! Fuck-a-duck!" Luke screamed. "Holy fucking crap! Did you see the size of that fucking mother-fucker!"




Trilogy



Nimiri nodded, smiled. "You throw well."

Luke tried to stand upright, hit his head on the low ceiling; he seemed giddy, lost somewhere between shock and pride. "Third base, man! Fucking college!" he shouted as more yet adrenaline washed through his system. "Fuck! That fucker was huge!"

Catherine saw the snake in her mind's eye and recoiled inward, unaware she was shaking.

"It right now," Nimiri whispered in her ear. "I think it gone."

She relaxed, groped her way to the rocky floor and sat; the old man crouched nearby, watched her for a while, even as he watched Luke bounce off the walls as he came down from the shock.

"What time is it," she said after a time.

Nimiri shrugged; Luke looked at his watch: "Almost five."

"I have to call in now. Is it gone?"

"You want me to stick my head up and look?" Pattison said.

She nodded. "Please."

"Fuck." Pattison went near the entrance and looked around, then tossed a few rocks out the opening and listened.

Nothing.

He slowly closed the distance, rose over the rock where the snake had been -- and half expected to be hit in the face -- but he saw nothing. Rocks, red dirt, some greenish-gray grass -- but no snake.

"Clear," he said. He heard Catherine and Nimiri walk up, felt her placing the antenna on a rock clear of the entrance, then dialing the phone.

"Hello," she said to someone sitting behind a desk in an air-conditioned office a billion miles away. "Desaunier here." She listened to the voice on the other end for quite a while, then hung up and shut the unit down.

"Fuck, man, you sure didn't say much..."

"I am told they can home in on transmissions. Anyway, protests are being made in the General Assembly, but there have been denials..."

"Same song, different verse," Pattison said.

"Exactly." She sighed, looked at the young man: "An AU force will depart Nyala in the early morning. A French force is flying into Chad as we speak. They will attempt to reach us in the morning. I am to call in at midnight and they ask that we monitor the Janjaweed's location."

"Hey, sounds fucking cool to me!"

"Luke?" Nimiri interrupted.

"Yeah, man."

"You must find other word. I tire of this one you use. This 'fuck'."

Catherine laughed as she put away the phone. "Nimiri, it is an Americanism. It means nothing."

"I know America. That is not America. The word he uses means nothing. Less than nothing. It is a word that tells the world 'here is a man with no self-respect'. Is that America?"

Luke looked at Nimiri: "You been to America?"

"No, but I remember an American. A man called Kennedy. I remember him talking about standing up to oppression. People all over Darfur remember this man, speak his words."

Pattison nodded. "I hope this Obama cat lives up to the standard."

"Yes," Nimiri continued. "This Obama. Where else but America could this happen? Sure this word not represent what you are?"

"I'm pretty sure, Nimiri."

"I remember Kennedy," Catherine said. "Ich bein ein Berliner! I remember. He wanted to tear down walls and take us to the stars. My God, how spectacularly we have failed that vision..."

"Hey, the opera ain't over 'til the Fat Lady sings."

Nimiri frowned, Catherine explained, then the old man looked at Luke: "I think you is fuckin' right. There is always tomorrow. Fuck 'em 'til fat lady sing."

The three of them laughed, they laughed for quite some time, but soon the sun fell away and darkness came for them.

+++++

The Janjaweed Commander looked at the bullet riddled Toyota, at the one dead, ant-covered man laid out underneath, then remembered that the helicopter had flown toward an escarpment just west of the road and he wondered... He wondered if survivors might not have escaped from this particular truck? He looked with grizzled eyes at the ground under the truck and ran his hand over impressions in the sand. More than one person had been under here; he could feel their presence even now. He walked around the truck, looked at the ground with his flashlight, saw footprints - even though it appeared someone had tried to conceal them, and he smiled. There could be no witnesses, he told himself once again. 

He talked to one of his lieutenants and orders rippled out into the darkness like leaves falling on still water.

+++++

A full moon hung over the escarpment, cast bright silver light on gray rock, and the three huddled humans sat near the entrance to the cave and looked out over the valley below. The young man passed the last of the candy bars to his companions, and he opened a bottle of water and took a swig before passing it to the woman.

"It's so quiet," she said as she sifted through her bag. "Where are the sounds of animals? I can't even hear the breeze."

The old man lifted his head into the light, cocked his head as he listened: "You are correct, Lady. Too quiet. A great beast hunts in the shadows. The small hide."

"That about sums things up, Nimiri," the young man said, "for us too, don't you think?"

"Oh yes." As the resumed their patient watch she pulled two bags of salmon from her bag and began opening them up.

"I thought you said..."

"Too much salt in this. We have not enough water. But perhaps..."

"Yes," Nimiri said. "Perhaps this last supper. Understand. What is this? It stinks!"

"Fish," Catherine said, "from an ocean far away."

The old man turned away, pinched his nose: "You eat dis fish?"

"Oh yes. It's very good."

"You say so. Not me." She passed around the fish and Luke took a bite and sighed.

"Oh man, that's good."

Nimiri looked unconvinced but took a piece and sniffed it tentatively: "It smell like goat shit."

"Go ahead, Nim, try it!" Luke said, then the old man took it and chewed it.

He smiled: "Not bad. For goat shit."

Luke pulled out his last two granola bars and the old man's eyes lit up: "I guess you like chocolate, huh?"

"Oh yes. Chocolate good."

Luke broke the two bars into six pieces and passed them around, then they sat back and listened to the darkness. Shadows moved with the arcing moon, grass rustled in a light breeze as the evenings hunt got underway on the savannah just meters away.

"I wonder if they'll get to us in time?" Catherine said after some time had passed.

"The way things have been going?" Luke commented, "I doubt it."

"Have you always been so... optimistic?" she replied.

"Yep."

"He carries a great burden," Nimiri said. "He grows tired."

"That's me. The Burdened White Man."

"The what?" Catherine asked.

"I was thinking of Kipling. The White Man's Burden. And 'you reap what you sow'.

"Ah, 'Luke 12:24'."

"What?"

"'Consider the ravens: for they neither sow nor reap; which neither have storehouse nor barn; and God feedeth them: how much more are ye better than the fowls?'"

"Not exactly what I had in mind," the young man replied.

"Perhaps," the old man said. 

"I meant..."

"I know what you mean, Luke." 

The young man pointed to the sky: "Kipling wrote:'Take up the White Man's burden, And reap his old reward: The blame of those ye better, The hate of those ye guard...'"

The old man opened both his hands to the heavens: "I think you should put your trust in God," then he brought them together, as if in prayer.

"God always makes things so much simpler, doesn't he?" Luke said - perhaps sarcastically.

"True," Nimiri said.

"Everything always has to have as purpose, right?" he sneered.

"So some say."

"I suppose ravens never starve to death?"

Nimiri smiled: "Death comes to all things."

"And always the ready come-back! Amazing!"

"Perhaps because God think of everything ."

Catherine had watched, listened, grown more agitated: "Religion is the cause of all human suffering, the opiate of the masses!"

"Perhaps so," the old man said. "Did God do that?"

"But everything has to have a purpose, Nimiri!" Luke interjected. "You said so yourself!"

"Did I?"

"If religion causes suffering, then..."

"What has religion got to do with God?" Nimiri said, and the other two stopped and looked at one another.

"What?" Catherine said, perplexed.

"What has religion got to do with God?" Nimiri replied.

"I don't understand," she said.

"Did God make religion, or did man?"

"Man," Luke said.

"Ah. But man flawed. From beginning. Everything man creates flawed one way or other. Even religion. Man overcome religion if truly find way to God."

"Now there's a point of view!" the young man said.

"Nimiri?" Catherine said. "Did you ever hear of a man named Yeats?"

"Yeats. I not know name."

"Another poet, an Irishman. He wrote: 'The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.' About a time when goodness retreats and mediocrity assumes the lead. He called his poem The Second Coming."

Nimiri's eyes shone in the darkness. "Indeed. And you think time has comes?"

"Sometimes, yes, it feels that way."

"I suspect," the old man said, "it always that way. Each face that darkness."

"And?"

"And become the raven."

"The what? But... why?" She looked at the old man, but he had turned away and was looking at the sky.

"Look!" the old man said as he pointed skyward. Two enormously bright lights floated by, headed toward the northeast. "The light so bright!"

Catherine turned, looked at the sky and gasped. The two objects drifted in front of the moon, yet even in front of so much light they remained fiercely bright. 

"The ISS," the young man said. "And the shuttle, I think."

"The what?" Nimiri said. The lights gradually dimmed while he spoke, and soon disappeared completely.

"The International Space Station."

"A station?" Nimiri said wonderingly. "You mean... people are there?"

"Three or four, yeah. And if that was the shuttle, then seven more. That's like the, uh, train that goes to the station..."

"You are being serious?"

"Oh, yeah, they've been flying the shuttle for nearly thirty years. Since right after Apollo..."

"Apollo?"

"Yeah. Do you remember Apollo? When the men walked on the moon?"

"What?"

"You heard about that, didn't you?"

"What? The Kennedy-man spoke of this. You mean, people have go there? To moon?"

The young man looked at the woman, then at the old man: "Yes. Forty years ago."

"Ah," Nimiri said. "I in prison those days." When no one spoke he continued. "You see, I killed a man."

"Really?" Catherine said uneasily.

"Yes. I was young. I home one day, find soldier top of my mother and I kill him. I taken away, taken place where told I done wrong."

"Ah," Luke said, "lawyers. You gotta love 'em."

"Lucky you weren't killed right then and there!" Catherine said.

"But a kid protecting his mother?"

"Yes," Nimiri said. "Interesting tyrant."

"Amen," Luke said.

"How old were you, Nimiri, when this happened?"

"Oh, Lady, am not sure. Perhaps ten years. I remember teacher told about Kennedy-man, and moon. I never believe. That such thing happen."

"Well, it did," Catherine said. "I watched it on television. I remember like it was yesterday."

"How long ago?" Nimiri asked.

"Forty years. This summer."

The old man turned and looked at the moon again.

"So. Your people walk there. How you look that not have pride in people? Your people?"

"We were capable of so much more," Catherine said, "but we turned against their ideas. The Americans make war everywhere now, even as they decay internally. It was foretold."

"Really?" Luke said. "By whom?" 

"Karl Marx."

"Oh, right. Now there, Nimir, was a great forecaster!"

"I not know."

"Lucky thing! First class lunatic, second class mind."

"He was not!" Catherine said. "But leave it to you Americans to go around shouting that history is dead, that Capitalism is all triumphant. Taken a look at your economy lately, asshole!"

"Don't call me an asshole, please."

Soon they were arguing and Nimiri sat back, watched for a moment, then cleared his throat: "You want consider where are," he said, "and needs be quiet."

Luke and Catherine separated, moved into separate parts of the cave.

"You act like religious peoples," Nimiri said into the darkness. "You lucky be alive and you fight. Fight, fight, fight. All you Europeans do is fight!" 

He watched shadows on the wall, wondered why two so intelligent people should act so childishly, yet neither said a word. In time he heard the woman breathing heavily, the young man snoring, and he turned and watched the moon as it arced across the sky. Soon he felt his own eyes growing heavy as sleep came for him.

Then he saw something out of the corner of his eye...

...something low, gray, and quiet...

...he moved his hand slowly, found a rock, began to lift...

...as the cobra rose from the rock, coiled, began to strike...

+++++

The morning sun slanted into the cave, hit the young man on the face. He stirred, swatted a fly and opened his eyes. He saw Catherine curled up on a smooth sandy spot a few meters away and, while he sat up, he rubbed away the sandy grit that had formed by his eyes during the night. He yawned, stretched, had begun to stand when he saw Nimiri sprawled out unnaturally near the cave's entrance. Something didn't feel right and he crouched down protectively, eased over to where the woman slept. He paused when he reached her, shook her gently, kept his hand lightly over her mouth to keep her from speaking.

She woke with a start, tried to rise but he held her down and she looked up at him with wide-eyed fright in her eyes - until she saw him motion her to silence with a single pointed finger over his lips. She nodded and he released her, she tried to sit and felt his hands helping her up, then she saw him pointing at the old man by the entrance to the cave. 

The old man lay perfectly still and at once she knew.

She could see his chest: no movement. None at all. No respiration.

She could, even from where she crouched, see his neck and the stillness within: no movement. No carotid pulse.

Her first impulse was to run to the old man's side, but some force gripped her, some deeper instinct held her back - and she felt the same response from Luke. He was on-guard, something menacing lurked in the shadows and he felt it too. 

He pushed her back into the shadows but remained protectively in front of her even so.

They heard footsteps in that moment; sliding, grinding footsteps coming up from the rocks below. Coming up, she had no doubt, for them.

+++++

The Commander paused ten meters behind the lead tracker.

The tracker had, he saw in the low slanting sunlight, held up his fist; the man had found something of importance - perhaps even dangerous. His men stopped as one on the signal, they collectively held their breath as the tracker eased forward slowly, silently, on hands and knees. 

A moment later the tracker motioned for the column to move forward slowly.

One man stepped too far and slid noisily on the scree and the Commander cursed under his breath, looked at a sergeant and made a cutting motion over his neck. The sergeant nodded and the Commander watched his men take-up positions on either side of the entrance to a deep cave. He climbed as noiselessly as a cat until he too was beside the entrance; once there he watched the tracker, listened to the silence for any telltale sign of activity deeper inside, then he looked down.

An old man lay on his side, a three meter long cobra by his side. Both were dead.

The man: several puncture wounds on his hands, face and neck.

The snake: it's head bashed-in by a rock still in the man's hand.

"The old man had balls," the Commander said quietly, and the man next to him shuddered and nodded. He stood, picked up a stone and threw it forcefully into the darkness...

"Nothing!" he said loudly in French a moment later. "Move on!" 

But the Commander remained by the entrance, motioned to the sergeant by his side. "Sit here quietly, wait and watch," he whispered to the sergeant. When the Commander was sure the man understood, he too moved away quietly.

+++++

Luke looked down at his watch again. It had been a half hour at least since the column had moved off but still his instinct told him not to leave the cover of shadow.

"I really have to pee," Catherine whispered. "I think I might wet my pants if I don't."

Luke listened, cocked his head to one side when he thought he heard some movement, then he edged forward, still in shadow, and pointed at the ground, motioned Catherine to go where she stood. He heard her undoing her trousers, then water bouncing off the stone floor and running into the sand...

... then she slipped, fell backwards, cried out when her tailbone hit a sharp rock...

... he listened as she regrouped, got herself together; now he thought he heard more footsteps approaching again and he flattened himself against the side of the cave and waited.

The men weren't trying to conceal their approach this time. Dozens of guerillas were sliding noisily up the scree, taking up positions on either side of the entrance. Luke felt his pulse hammering inside his skull, found himself wondering what it would feel like to die, when...

"Venez des maintenant!"

"What did he say?" Luke whispered to Catherine.

"Come out," she whispered back.

"Venez nous ou lancer des grenades!"

"What?"

"Maintenant!"

"We must go now," she said, "or they throw grenades."

"Okay," he said. "Game over." He could barely see her in the darkness. "I think I would have liked to know you a lot better."

"Indeed?"

"Indeed. You ready?"

She felt her hand take his and he started forward.

"Mettez vos mains en l'air!"

"Put your hands up," she translated while she complied. 

"What did you say!" Luke shouted as he inched into the light.

"Ah, you are an American?" 

Luke could see a grizzled, skinny man standing in the entrance, then he saw Nimiri and the cobra. "Yeah, I'm with the New York Times. A reporter."

"Really? How nice. Get your hands where I can see them or I will remove the woman's head slowly while you watch."

Luke got his hands up. The guerilla in the entrance was some kind of leader, of that he was sure, but the man was astonishingly frightening looking. He was tall and rail thin, appeared quite old and his skin was stretched tightly over his bald head revealing every detail of the skull underneath.

"So. You're death, huh?" Luke said. "You look the part."

The guerilla laughed savagely. "I play the part well, I assure you."

"No doubt."

"Once upon a time I went to Yale," the man said lightly.

"That figures," Luke said.

Time itself seemed to arc and hover for a moment, then the world outside the cave roared and filled with fire; a concussive blast knocked Luke backwards into Catherine and they both were flattened against the floor by repeated waves of searing, pulsating heat. 

Catherine felt the air being sucked from her lungs and pinched off her nose as the napalm-fueled fire consumed every bit of low-lying oxygen from the cave, then the world turned numb and full of icy whiteness...

+++++

She woke for a moment, recognized the interior of a military helicopter and felt an IV in her left arm, then drifted off to wherever she'd been...

+++++

She woke again, this time in a bed. A hospital bed. She looked at the sky and recognized the rosy pinkness of Paris in the light and smiled, then drifted off again.

+++++

The next time she woke her son was at her side and he brightened perceptively when he saw his mother's eyes. She felt a glad fullness in her heart and smiled.

"Are you thirsty?" Stephan Desaunier asked.

She paused, rolled the question around in her mouth, then nodded her head. he brought a cup and spoon full of ice to her lips and gave her some to chew.

"More?"

She nodded, tried to speak.

"Not yet, Mama. You've been out a long time."




Trilogy



She nodded, struggled, then spoke: "Other... man... with..." she ground out before he throat gave way and coughing consumed her.

Stephan pushed a button and a nurse came, a therapist of some sort followed: the nurse put a mask on her face and cool mist poured into her lungs while the therapist adjusted flow rates, and that told Catherine all she needed to know. Her lungs had been damaged, severely, by the napalm. She lifted her head, saw the paraphernalia attached to her thighs and hips and guessed she'd fractured her pelvis. She wiggled her toes, felt them, then saw them both move under thin blanket and sighed her relief: her spine was intact! She was going to survive.

She looked up, looked at her son. He was watching her and she knew that he knew she was deducing everything for herself, and he smiled knowingly.

After a half hour the therapist removed the mask: "Do you feel like trying again?"

She nodded: "Yes," she whispered. "The man with me... Luke? How is he?"

Stephan looked away: "He's alive. He was here yesterday."

"Yesterday?"

"Yes. He was released last week. His backside was burned, badly."

"His backside?"

"His, what? His bum?"

"His ass was burned?"

"Yes." Oddly enough, Stephan had no idea why his mother laughed so long, or so hard. 

But he had a lot to tell her, and now was as good a time as any.

+++++

She was sitting up contemplating the eggs on her plate when he walked in the next morning.

"My God. The rumors are true. It lives." His eyes sparkled when he took her in, yet Stephan looked at the young American with something akin to unbridled hatred in his eyes.

"You look... well," Catherine said. She couldn't believe how her heart had soared when the boy walked into the room.

"You mean, aside from the pain in the ass thing?"

"What happened?"

"What? After the bombs?"

She nodded.

"Fuck, I don't know. A few minutes later it started raining paratroopers, then the helicopters arrived. I think it was a bit of an anti-climax, though. The bombs took most of 'em out."

She nodded again. "The Janjaweed? In the cave? Did he..."

"Nope. He was too fuckin' close to the entrance. Fried, if you know what I mean. I think he died before they loaded him on the chopper."

"What happened to us?'

"Well, my fault, I guess. I was trying to cover you and the force knocked us back into the cave. I came down on you pretty hard." Luke looked away guiltily.

"Thank you. I doubt we'd be alive if not for your quick thinking."

Stephan looked away, then walked quietly from the room: "I think I'll leave you two alone."

Luke watched her son leave, then turned to her: "What's that all about?"

"He's always been quite possessive."

"Really? We've been talking a lot the past week or so. Seems like a good kid. Second year of medical school?"

"That's right."

"So? What's up?"

"We talked last night. About you."

"Me?"

"You. For some odd reason he seems to think you're very attached to me."

"Really?" But he did not look away. "Wonder what gave him that idea?"

"Well, we had a long talk."

"Fuck."

"Remember what Nimiri said? About that word?"

Luke nodded, looked away. "Did you see him? Before..."

"No."

"That fu... that cobra came back. Sometime in the night, I guess. He fought it, I think, and killed it with a rock. But not before..."

"Yes. I understand. His was a good soul, don't you think?"

"You know it."

"So. Show it to me."

"What?"

"This pain you have. This pain in the ass."

+++++

Stephan was with her later that afternoon when she woke from a nap.

"Did you talk with him?" he asked. "About what I told you?"

"A little."

"What did he say?"

She shrugged. "Very little I need share with you right now. Mainly things that happened in the cave."

He nodded: "He was transferred to the Paris bureau yesterday. Did he tell you?"

"No."

"I thought you'd like to know."

"Yes. How is your father?"

"He is worse. I hate tobacco."

"He understood what he was doing. It was his choice."

"But it wasn't mine choice, was it? Not mine to go through his death in such a way."

"Your sister? Does she help?"

"Not at all. She is like her mother. What the Americans call 'arm candy.' Or an air-head."

"Perhaps she'll learn a thing or two from you. One never knows."

"No, I suppose not."

"And your studies?"

"Well, I think."

She nodded. "Stephan, you know I love you. You'll always be the light of my life."

He looked at her and nodded, held up his hand: "I won't keep you from him, mother, if that is what you wish."

"It is."

He nodded his head and smiled. "I know, Mama. I know. I just hope..."

"We are all just strangers to one another, Stephan, until fate steps in and lends a hand."

+++++

Weeks later Catherine was wheeled from the hospital by her son and a reporter for the New York Times. They drove a few blocks to her house on the rue Maitre Albert and the two men helped her walk into her home for the first time in almost a year. Some time passed before the men emerged. One, the younger of the two, held out his hand and the other took it. They smiled at one another.

"Forgive me, but I think perhaps I will not call you Dad. Is hope that is not offensive."

The older of the two laughed. "I'd settle for being friends."

"Perhaps. In time, yes."

+++++

The old man's words had penetrated the wall, you see. 

"You act like religious peoples," the old man had said. "You lucky be alive and you fight!"

But there was more to it than that, you understand. Something, perhaps two lights in the sky, perhaps the nearness of death, had brought two people irreversibly together. The bond so formed had been forged in fire and cleansed by memory. 

He loved her. It was that simple.

And she loved him.

There was nothing left to say.



Trilogy



Note: This story is not a trilogy of erotic tales, but instead, a tale of three people who share three erotic encounters... I do hope you all enjoy!

*****

-one-

"FIRE"

I was jealous when my twin brother John told me he had a girlfriend. John was mine, and I didn't want to share him. I couldn't tell him that, of course. I was the fast girl during high school, and even in college, when my tastes went far beyond what I could get in back seat, I never even tried to make love to John. We were best friends, and sometimes he was the only guy in the world I could stand the sight of, but I never told him how I truly felt.

But this woman, who he found in our sophomore year in junior college, was a threat all the sudden. John was a propeller-head and had as much social life as the computers he worked on. Our mother and I kept him decently dressed and made sure he had a date now and then, but when he latched on to this Daphne person, it was a surprise.

I have to admit she did him good. She was a fellow computer person, he told us. One day, he asked me to come along when he picked her up from work.

We waited for her in the mall. I didn't even know what she looked like, and I was surprised at the woman who waved and smiled as she came out the door.

"This is Daphne," he said to me. "And this is my sister, Anna." My respect for John went into orbit. She was drop-dead beautiful. Like me, she was of medium height, with thick, dark hair pulled back and tied with a crimson ribbon. She had a pale, round face and wore a black jacket, very short black skirt, black stockings, and flats. She wore oversized round glasses over large, violet eyes. I felt almost plain next to her.

She squeezed my hand firmly, then let go of it and kissed John very thoroughly.

The initial impression was good for both of us. The fact that we liked each other immediately didn't lessen my jealousy, but made it easier. We became close quickly. We double-dated (I didn't have a regular boy-friend, but I had a small stable of men who were more than willing to be seen with me). I spent time with both of them. We made a very comfortable threesome. She became my best friend.

Mom told me she was sure they were sleeping together. I knew they were, but I wasn't telling. I didn't talk to them about it either, because I was afraid I'd betray myself.

Every summer Mom arranged to borrow a friend's lakeside home over the Independence Day weekend. John and I were going, of course, and Daphne was invited too.

Mom, John and I arrived together Thursday night, and Daphne was beating on the front door by eight the next morning. When the day got warm, we ditched shorts for bathing suits. John had his classic trunks, I wore a high-collared, skin tight yellow one piece, and Daphne wore a thong bikini that was positively indecent. She looked very good, and I wondered again how Jon had managed to land her. It made me want to get her into bed, and I felt a different kind of jealousy.

"I think you must be the two sexiest women in the world," John said as he lay between us beside the lake.

"You can't count," I said. "There's one here, and she's on the other side of you." I'm far from beautiful, but I've got a killer body and I make the most of it.

"I accept the compliment," Daphne said, "and I don't think Anna has anything to complain about."

"Besides," I said, "I'm your sister, you're not supposed to notice me."

"Sorry," he said, slapping my butt, "can't help it." So maybe he did notice me. We'd shared a bathroom for years, he should have noticed something by now. I had. He could pat my rear anytime. He turned his head away and I heard the sound of his hand on Daphne's bottom. She laughed, and I looked over. His hand lingered on her bare bottom, and for a moment I envied her. But I kept watching his hand until he drew it back.

We had a barbecue in the late afternoon and debated whether or not we'd all go watch fireworks at the park on the far side of the lake. Mom decided she wanted to go, but we decided to stay. I had an idea why John and Daphne wanted mom to go away for awhile, but they seemed willing to let me stay. Mom seemed happy that I was staying too, probably thinking it would keep them from any sexual shenanigans. I knew better, but I wasn't telling her.

We cleaned up and sat in the shade of the porch. Mom and I read and John and Daphne played backgammon. About seven o'clock Mom decided to leave to find a good seat. As soon as the car disappeared up the driveway John and Daphne were on their feet.

"We'll be back," John said to me.

"Ooooh, can I watch?" I asked playfully. John, of course, knew my predilections, and ignored me.

"Not this time!" Daphne replied with a laugh as they disappeared into the house.

Refilling my glass from the pitcher of iced tea, I thought about her answer, wondering if she meant it. I returned to my book, but I couldn't concentrate because I caught myself listening to them. I could imagine John's hands on her breasts, his lips and tongue on her round, brown nipples, his fingers opening the delicate flower between her legs, finding the sensitive nub of her clitoris beneath its hood with his tongue. My fantasy was punctuated by a particularly loud moan

from Daphne, and I imagined her mouth open, her tongue licking its way up John's erect cock, exploring the cleft at the base of his glands, then the hole at its tip, sucking it into her mouth, her head bobbing up and down as she took him deeper and deeper, his hands in her hair and on her breasts...

Unconsciously I'd been rubbing my vulva through the thin material of my swimsuit, and my orgasm was almost a surprise. I relaxed afterward, slurped iced tea, wondering how I could have either one of them. I enjoyed women as well as men, and I simply couldn't find a preference for either. Right now I felt a strong preference for both my brother and his lover.

Daphne stepped out onto the porch, in her bikini, her color high. Without saying anything, she found her glass and poured herself some tea. I smiled at her and returned to my book.

Fireworks were scheduled for 10:30, and it was pretty dark an hour earlier. We played Frisbee on the lawn for awhile until it got dark, then sat on the grass by the lake, still in our swimsuits. It was pleasantly warm.

"Want to take a swim?" I asked.

"Skinny dip!" John said.

This caught me by surprise, but it was dark, after all, and there were no other houses too close.

"I will if Daphne will," I said.

"Well, I've got nothing to hide," she said.

"I know," I said, "you haven't been hiding it all day!" She laughed.

John already had his trunks off. I stripped off my suit as Daphne untied her halter and slipped off her thong. Her breasts were smaller than mine, and her hips wider. I'd always wanted a figure more like hers than mine, with breasts too big and butt too skinny. I watched her ass bounce into the lake with a splash. "C'mon, Anna," John said, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the water. He kept a tight grip on me until we hit the water and ran full into Daphne. We all went down in a pleasant tangle of arms and legs.

We shed our inhibitions along with our bathing suits. Splashing turned into tickling in the shallows, and it didn't seem to matter who was tickling who. Tickling turned into wrestling . I took John down once, and we were grabbing just anywhere to get the job done. Daphne pulled me off of him and took me down with obvious glee.

After I elbowed her off my back she decided that John was friendlier, and after a very quick, very touchy-feely conference, they ganged up on me. For about two seconds I was underwater with something heavy and soft on me. I barely had time to struggle against imminent drowning when they hauled me up and, amid much laughter, deposited me with a thud on the grass.

I lay on my back, spread-eagled, unable to control my own laughter, and they collapsed nearby, laughing at least as hard as me. Eventually I was reduced to just trying to catch my breath, until I noticed that the heavy breathing nearby had a different note to it. I rolled onto my side. John and Daphne were practicing their French kissing. They were side by side and Jon was in an obvious state of excitement.

I probably should have snuck off, but the preceding half hour of water sports had removed all traces of sanity. I crept a few feet closer to them and just watched. When their kiss ended they looked straight at me.

"Can I watch?" I asked, my voice just above a whisper.

"God, yes," Daphne said. John dipped his head to take her left nipple in his mouth, which I took for assent. I settled back on my knees as she moaned with pleasure as he sucked, then extended his tongue to circle the nipple.

John straightened up on his knees after a few moments. His cock stood out from his body like a pump handle, long and thick. In the bright moonlight I could see the glitter of a drop of liquid on its tip. Daphne got up and crept closer to him and I spread my knees against the rough, cool grass in anticipation.

The angle was bad, but I knew she had taken his cock in her mouth by the way her head moved and the way his hand curled about her neck. I scooted to the right to see better, and saw his cock slowly sliding out from between her lips, gleaming with her saliva. His pole was bigger than any I'd ever sucked, and I could almost taste his turgid flesh. I cupped my breasts and squeezed as her tongue curled around his glands. She ran her pursed lips up and down the shaft, even sucking on one of his balls, before taking first his glands back in her mouth, then the shaft all the way to the root, so fast that I almost gagged in sympathy. It didn't seem to bother her at all, and she left him in here for what seemed like a full minute, her jaw and throat working. John grabbed her head with both hands, his eyes closed, and when she released his cock, he began to pump his hips, fucking her mouth. I saw movement between her legs; her ass was still prominent to me, and the movement was her hand, teasing her vagina open. I dropped my right hand from my breast, leaving it almost cold in the night air, and found my own clitoris. It was already tingling with vicarious pleasure, but the first touch of my finger sent an almost painful stab through my legs and buttocks.

At my gasp, Daphne released John's cock completely, then grabbed it with the hand that had recently been between her legs. She looked at me with a slight smile, then looked up at him. "Do me," she said, her voice surprisingly loud.

"Sit on my face," he replied, glancing at me as if to make sure he still had his audience. Daphne rolled to a sitting position, her knees wide apart, and he lay on his back.

"You just want me to suck your cock more," she said, bending over him. Their tongues slid over each other, then she turned and kissed his belly.

"Just don't get distracted and bite down at the wrong time," he said as she swung one leg over him. He grabbed her generous hips and pulled her ass to him. The last thing I saw of his face was his tongue sticking out, its tip moving in anticipation.

Daphne kissed the tip of his cock again, and her lips and tongue moved over the shaft, but she was soon too distracted to work seriously on him.

By this time I had my middle finger deep inside myself, and I lifted one breast up to tongue my nipple. Daphne had abandoned any thought of fellatio. Her back was arched, her head thrown back, and she twisted one of her nipples furiously between her fingers. Soon enough she came with a loud gasp, sparking my own orgasm, which was just a little quieter.

After a few moments she rolled off and knelt beside him, stroking his chest and belly. Then he took her by the waist and pulled her on top of him. She straddled him, and they kissed greedily as he moved his hands over her back and ass. His cock was in shadow between her legs, but I could imagine it pressing against her pussy lips. I crept closer, my heart thudding painfully.

Indeed, I saw in the dim light, the tip of my brother's penis lay nestled between her damp lips, and I was close enough to smell their musk. I watched her hips press downward and his push upward, but his cock slid away. I saw my opportunity to have at least a little part in this love feast, so I reached down between Daphne's legs, took hold of the warm, hard cock, and aimed it again for Daphne's waiting pussy. Feeling what I was doing, Jon didn't move, but Daphne thrust downward again, and my positioning of his cock was perfect. I rested my arm on Daphne's leg as he slid into her, then too far out. I steadied it again, now wet with her juices, and once again she impaled herself on him, this time sitting up on his hips so he wouldn't slip out again. I moved back, my hand boldly brushing the smooth skin of her bottom, and sat back with my legs curled under me, sucking at my musk-moistened fingers.

John's hands cupped and caressed Daphne's breasts, rolling her nipples as she bounced up and down on him. He was getting closer and closer to coming, but she had other plans and stopped her movement.

"Don't stop, Daph," he moaned.

"I want you on top of me," she said, kissing him and standing, releasing his cock. Without looking behind her she flopped on her back, her knees in the air and spread wide. I saw where her head was going to land and I positioned myself underneath it. She looked up at me, but her attention was taken by John's thrusting cock and she reached down to guide him in.

He lay atop her, his mouth locked on hers, her hands on his ass, and his hips moved slowly. I leaned on one hand and looked down at them, my other hand resting absently against Daphne's head. As John's excitement increased, he rose up on his hands, his head brushing against my breast as he did so. Not breaking the rhythm of his fucking he looked up at me and licked his lips. Unable to resist his plea, I held out that breast to him and watched as he fastened his mouth on my

waiting nipple. I couldn't contain my moan of pleasure as he sucked at it, sending a laser beam of pleasure straight to my clitoris. I looked down at my brother sucking my breast and saw Daphne below him, her head pillowed on my thighs, her eyes glittering in the moonlight, watching us, smiling and licking her lips.

Emboldened by my brother's touch and his lover's apparent approval, I reached down with my free hand and took hold of her breast. It was just big enough to fill my hand, and I saw her close her eyes. Out of the corner of my eye I watched one hand move from John's waist into the darkness between their bodies. From Jon's reaction she must have found the point of union, where his penis motioned in and out of her vagina. His mouth left my breast and he arched his head back, grunting and groaning with the ecstasy of his rapidly-approaching climax. He cried aloud as he came, and his buttocks clenched as he thrust into Daphne as far as he could.

At that moment the fireworks started across the lake, gold, green, red and blue light spreading over us. John lowered himself onto Daphne. I looked up at the display, caressing Daphne's hair, and after a moment I stroked John's hair as well. Eventually I became aware of my legs falling asleep beneath me and tried to move them a little. I didn't really want to disturb our little tableau, but Daphne sensed my discomfort.

"Up, dear," she said softly, and John rose on his knees between her legs, his penis now only half-erect. He took her hands and pulled her to a sitting position, her head resting against his chest. I straightened out my legs, then wiggled them back and forth to restore the circulation.

"Show off," I heard Daphne say.

"Exhibitionist," he replied.

"Voyeur," I said, raising my hand and waving it. They both laughed and let go of each other, sitting in the grass.

"God, that was good," Daphne said. "We should do it with an audience more often."

"I liked it too," I said. I got up, shaking my legs a little more. He got up too, and to my surprise grabbed me about the waist, pulled me to him, and gave me a most un-brotherly kiss. Then he let me go just as fast, took Daphne's hand, and started toward the house. Just as big red star shell lit up the sky I saw Daphne turn and smile at me over her shoulder.

I scooped up our bathing suits and followed them.

-two-

"FIST"

I fingered myself to sleep and woke early, feeling refreshed. I made coffee and sat on the porch in my robe.

There was movement inside, and Daphne came out the door with her own cup of coffee and robe and sat next to me.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," I said. I looked at her, caught her looking sideways at me, and sipped. "No regrets?"

"No," she said after a moment. "None at all." I held my hand out to her and after a moment's hesitation she took it and squeezed.

"We could go on a little hike today," I said. "There's a trail I know, flat, in the trees..."

"Just you and me, okay?" she said. Surprised, I agreed.

The trail was a half-dozen miles up in the hills. I stopped in a turnout where the car would be in the shade most of the day, and pointed out an almost-hidden trail leading into the woods. The property was owned by the same people who owned the cabin and was quite private.

Daphne took the knapsack first, and we started off. After a short, sharp climb over a ridge we descended into the valley of a small stream that drained into the lake. The walk was enjoyable, with birds singing and squirrels in the trees and a light breeze to keep the woods from getting stuffy.

"Can we talk about last night?" she asked after we'd been on the trail for about half an hour.

"Sure, but let's stop first. There's a good spot by the stream up here a little way. We can stop there." I wanted to talk to her, too, as well as to my brother.

We found it about ten minutes later, a little thicket that couldn't be seen from the trail unless you knew where it was. We sat, pulled out Cokes, and looked at each other.

"I've never done anything like that before," Daphne said. She looked at me, expecting an answer.

"I have, kind of. I was at a party once that turned into an orgy. There were three of us there, none with a date. We mostly watched."

"Mostly?"

I just smiled.

"It was fun being watched."

"It was really fun watching."

She laughed. "Your brother..."

"Yeah." I took a long drink, remembering my hand on his cock, his mouth on my nipple, his tongue and mine together.

"I think you wanted more from him than what you got last night." She didn't look at me.

"He's my brother, Daphne. My twin brother." I wondered who I was trying to convince.

"So you guys have never..."

"No. That was the first time we'd ever ... touched each other like that."

"Well, John does kind of lose himself to the moment during sex." She was trying not to smile.

"That French kiss he gave me was somewhat after sex," I shot back, challenging.

"Yeah, you're right, it was."

"Daphne, you don't seem to mind that I would really like to sleep with John."

She laughed.

"Why should I? You're his sister. You're no threat. I wouldn't mind sharing him with you, because you'd never take him away from me."

I hadn't thought of it that way.

"You're right, I wouldn't do that. Couldn't do that." I sighed. "But how does he feel about it? Has he told you?"

"I think last night was an indication. It doesn't matter if he's related to you or not, part of him wants you."

I sipped and sat for awhile. "Yeah, well, the feeling's mutual. So that do I do, jump him some night when you're not around?"

She turned toward me, pushed a lock of dark hair away from her face, and said, "Anna, I would not make you commit incest without being there to provide moral support."

"Or immoral support, whichever the case may be." We laughed hard, rocking against each other. I ended up leaning on her shoulder and didn't feel much like moving. She didn't push me off, either. I decided to take the next logical step.




Trilogy



"I'm queer, you know," I said.

"I wondered. Bisexual, I presume."

"I have no preferences. I take what's offered to me, if I find it attractive."

Her fingers dangled tantalizingly over my knee, their tips just brushing it.

"Am I attractive?" she asked.

"Well, yeah. Am I?" I wasn't sure who was doing the pushing here.

"I've never been with another woman before." She laughed and looked at me. "Have you heard that one before?"

"Only the last time I said it. I was a virgin six months ago. As far as other women were concerned, that is." I looked at her hand, still dangling.

"Do you want to?"

"When you touched me last night... I liked it. It excited me. I've thought about it before, wondered. I'd like to try it." Her hand landed solidly on my knee.

"You know," I said, covering her hand with mine, my heart thumping, "I learned an interesting thing at that party. Threesomes are lots of fun."

"Threesomes? Like you and John and me?"

"Yeah."

"You learned that at the party? Just by watching?"

"We three women were the only unattached people. The atmosphere kind of got to us."

"So you joined in?"

"No. We played together. One of the other women was quite experienced with other women. It was quite... educational. I think one with a man involved would be at least as much fun."

She was looking at me, a little shyly. I bent forward and touched her lips with mine, trying to go slow, but she wasn't too interested - her tongue parted my lips, and to my surprise she became the aggressor. Her arms went around me and she was against me, and I spread my hand over one side of her ass, curling my fingertips into the cleft as far as her shorts let me.

Her tongue explored my mouth thoroughly. I love the feeling of someone's tongue in my mouth, a warm, slippery thing, alive unlike any other part of the body. A tongue can be like a playful seal, leaping from place to place, from teeth to palate, or a probe, pushing and hard. Two tongues are like lovers, twining around each other like giraffes' necks. If they could fuck, they would.

Soon I'd lovingly pushed her tongue back to its own mouth and explored just as assiduously. I felt heat building between my legs.

The kiss ended at last. We looked at each other for a moment, and I touched her face. She dropped her eyes; she was actually blushing.

"Okay?" I asked. I was afraid to break the silence, afraid it would break the moment.

"Yes," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

I pulled her tank top out of her shorts and up over hear head, letting her take care of getting it off her arms. She wore a sports bra, and I pushed it up off her lovely breasts. She took care of it, too, while I ran my hands over the pert mounds of brown-tipped flesh. The rest of her clothes followed quickly, and she sat cross-legged, her elbows on her knees, and watched me strip. I felt good under her eyes, an unaccustomed pride in my body making me thrust out my breasts as I exposed them to her. Naked, I knelt beside her, one knee touching her leg.

She put her hand on my leg, leaned over, and ran it up my thigh to my hip, up my side to my right breast. She tried to cup it, but it overflowed her hand. She got on her knees and moved as close as she could get, one knee between my legs. We embraced, belly to belly and breast to breast, kissing, and this time my fingers were deep in the cleft of her ass. How deep would she let me go? My forefinger found the rim of her anus, then the center, and she gripped my waist harder, her kiss insistent. I pulled my finger back, saving it for later. I started kissing my way downward. The downy skin of her cheek became moist beneath my lips, and she gasped as I nipped at her earlobe. Then I drew my tongue down her throat and into the hollow beneath her collarbone, tasting sweat-salt on her skin. Then I reached her breast. I licked it all over, all of it except her nipple.

She arched her back, breathing heavily, and when I judged the time to be right (and when I couldn't stand waiting any longer myself) I sucked as much of her nipple into my mouth as I could. She gasped and grabbed my head, and let out a little grunt as my tongue stabbed at her. Then I let it go and alternated circling her nipple with my tongue and sucking at it. Eventually I licked my way across to her other breast and did much the same thing.

This play eventually dissolved into more kissing, and then she wanted to do it to me. I lay back on the rough grass, twitched my shoulders around a little to kill an itch in the middle of my back, and let her go to it. She straddled my hips, and I ran my hands from her knees up to her breasts, which hung down delightfully over mine as her tongue explored the hollow of my throat.

I don't like my breasts all that much most of the time. They're too big, attracts lots of attention (some of it unwelcome) and give me backaches (all of them unwelcome). The only time I like them is during sex, whether it's just me masturbating in bed at night or with someone else. They are so sensitive, it's sometimes like there's direct link between them and my clit. I've made myself come playing with my breasts alone.

So I started getting pretty excited when Daphne put her nose right between them, then gathered one in each hand and squeezed them together. I felt her take a deep breath in there, felt her licking and nuzzling. I held fast to her hips, and opened my eyes only when she let my breasts go and straightened up for a moment. We looked at each other and smiled.

She bent over again, took my left breast between both hands and went to work on my nipple. Her mouth on my breast was exquisite. She seemed to devote all of her attention to it. The heat between my legs was like a fire, the tingling building with delicious agony in my clit. My vagina felt like a running faucet, and she was my only relief. Then she did the unexpected; she made me come.

She knew what she'd done and eased off her attentions, laying on top of me. I wrapped my legs and arms around her.

"You really came?" she asked, her mouth close to my ear.

"Oh, yeah."

"John always seems to like sucking on mine... I wanted to see what he experiences."

"Did you like it?" I asked.

"Yes!"

Daphne was in an exploratory mood now. Her fingers were making their way down my ribs, across my belly, to the edge of my pubis. Her eyes and mine had followed their progress southward, and when she stopped I spread my legs and moved my hips, urging her on. I found her looking at me, and she licked her lips and kissed me. She seemed nervous. I put a hand in her hair and tried to encourage her by kissing back. Somewhere in the middle of the kiss her hand slid between my legs and her fingers explored, first tentatively, then with greater assurance. I knew what she was thinking; it was very strange to touch another woman's sex for the first time, feeling things that are very familiar, yet receiving only half the sensation.

She had no trouble finding my clitoris, which she touched only briefly, as if wanting to prove she'd really found it. Then she traced the folds of my inner lips and finally ventured a finger inside, followed quickly by a second. Her two fingers filling me like a slender cock. I wanted more. If she had any uncertainty of how to please me, now was the time to end it. I broke the kiss.

"I want your tongue down there," I said. She looked down at where her fingers were buried to the third knuckle inside of me, and positioned herself between my legs. She removed her fingers from my vagina, and put her hands on the insides of my thighs, and pushed to spread them further than they were already.

She blew gently on my vulva, inhaling my scent. Then, just as I was about to give her head a push, she dove in. She lapped at my labia, tasting the juices coming from inside me, and finally un-hooded my clit.

I don't remember much after that. Her tongue was as magic to my sex as it had been to my mouth and nipples. I remember taking a hank of her hair between my fingers and rolling one of my nipples with the other hand, and the waves of pleasure that rolled over me like flowing lava. I remember being very noisy when I came. I remember tasting myself in her mouth when we kissed afterward. She rolled onto her back. After regaining my equilibrium, I bent down and kissed her breast, then rubbed my cheek down her thigh. She seemed to know what I wanted her to do without any words. I lay on my back and she lifted her leg over my head, and I took her lusciously wide hips in my hands and pulled her back and down so her pussy was positioned just above me. Looking between her legs, I saw her breasts dangling, and her head turned back to see what I was doing.

I ran my hands over the sweet globes of her ass and looked at the vulva above me, then put two fingers of my right hand into her. She was wet and very slippery and they slid in easily, all the way. I pulled my fingers out and put two from my other hand inside, better for what I wanted to do later.

I finger-fucked her for a few minutes, and felt her licking my thighs. Then I pulled her pussy down to my mouth, which I had wide open to encompass as much of her as possible with that first contact. She tasted very neutral, not spunky like some other women I'd tasted. I French-kissed her vulva, carefully keeping my tongue away from her clit but letting it range over her underbody, all the way up to her asshole and back down. She was quivering above me, her breath cool against my moist pussy.

Finally I probed for her clit and began circling it. She moaned even as she licked my labia. One of the nicest things about making love to another woman is being able to do what you want done to you. She'd done a good job on me.

I briefly put the middle finger of my left hand back into her vagina, but finger-fucking wasn't my intention. Instead I wet the rim of her asshole with the liquid and started working the digit in. She moaned loudly and shoved her tongue into my vagina, keeping it up as I pushed my finger deeper up her ass, wiggling and twisting it as I flicked my tongue faster and faster on her clit.

"Oh, GOD!" she yelled. I felt her sphincter convulse around my finger, followed by a constriction of her labia, and her juices gushed into my mouth. She was going "hungh, hungh, hungh," in rhythm with the contractions of her orgasm, and I had to swallow her pussy juice to keep from drowning.

Slowly, Daphne sat upright, being careful not to sit too hard on my face. I started to pull my finger from her ass, and she helped, pushing it out with contractions of her anus. Then she turned and threw herself on top of me. We lay there kissing and hugging for a long time.

"God, that was good," she said at last. She got off me and sat in the grass, her knees wide, the soles of her feet pressed together, letting the breeze blow over her pussy.

"Want some more? Something kinky?" I asked, kneeling beside her, my left arm around her slender waist.

"As kinky as you want," she said, then pressed her hand to my cheek. "I'd do anything you wanted."

I put my hand between her legs, teasing her labia with my fingers. She leaned against me and watched as I put first one finger inside her, then two, gently rotating them to open her up. I put three in her, then four. Her eyes got bigger than her cervix as she realized what I was doing, but she never said a word, just caressed my face and let it happen.

Four fingers was tight for awhile, but I was persistent and soon enough my thumb found its way in, and a few moments later I had my fist up her vagina. Once she accepted the reality of everything up to my wrist inside her, she closed her eyes, clutching my arm.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah. I just never imagined I could have that much up there... ugnh!" I had started moving in and out, fist-fucking her. My whole body seemed to be humming, I was so turned on. It didn't take her long to come, and I came right along with her from the simple excitement of the act. I knew how it felt to receive a fist, but I'd never done it to anyone before. It was worth the wait.

Slowly I drew my hand from inside her. She grabbed it and licked it clean, then kissed me. I felt sated, almost unwilling to do another thing besides sleep. I lay back in the grass, but she sat and watched me. The last thing I remember was her looking down at me, her hands idly cupping her breasts.

-three-

"STORM"

I woke to find Daphne snuggled up against my back. She sat up, when I stirred, knocking off the clothing she'd covered us with.

"What time is it?" she asked.

I looked at my watch through bleary eyes. "Almost 2 o'clock."

"We should probably head back," she said.

"Had enough, hmm?"

"Only for now," she replied, giving my shoulder a shove. Then she gave me a very intimate kiss and we got dressed. I shouldered the knapsack and we started down the trail hand in hand.

"You know," she said, "I think I'm falling in love with you." My heart did a handspring and I squeezed her hand.

"You can do that," I said, "and I'll probably return the feeling. But don't fall out of love with my brother!"

"Don't worry. I think I can be in love with both of you."

"So," she said after awhile, "do you want to make love to John?"

"I want to make love to both of you."

Nothing more needed to be said. We walked in silence the rest of the way, holding hands when we could. Just before the last drop to the road she pulled me up short and hugged me.

At lake, John was fishing from the dock and mom was reading on the porch. We'd been home about an hour when the phone rang. She swore, and I could see her trying to decide whether to ignore it or not. She's like me, though, too conscientious. She went into the house to answer it.

"It's your grandmother," she said. "I need to go home tonight. You guys can lock up tomorrow and come home tomorrow night, okay?"

"Sure," I said, my mind going over the possibilities for the night ahead. "No problem."

"And no hanky-panky, either," she said. I knew she meant I was to try to keep an eye on John and Daphne. Parents are naive sometimes; she really thought I was going to be able to stop them from having sex. She had no idea that I was planning on encouraging them.

"I'll see what I can do, Mom," I replied, and smiled at her back as she went upstairs to pack.

She was gone by the time John and Daphne got back with a good string of trout. Clouds had rolled in and a brisk wind was cooling down the air. When I explained why mom left, they exchanged significant looks. Then, when John wasn't looking, Daphne winked broadly at me. I wondered if she had said anything to him.

While John cleaned his fish I went upstairs to take a shower. As I stepped out of the tub, Daphne knocked and poked her head in.

"C'mon in," I said, enjoying the way her eyes moved up and down my body.

"I can't believe this," she said. "It's too perfect!"

"I know," I said, toweling my hair. "You're sure you want to?"

"Oh, yes! I want to do it right now!"

"Lord, I've created a monster," I said with mock dismay.

"Don't worry," she said, putting her arms around me. "I really will come down eventually."

"So what do you have in mind?"

"A fire, some wine, and surprise visit by two naked women. He'll be like putty in our hands."

"That's cool, as long as he's not like putty in my pussy."

We fried up the trout and sat on the porch. It was still pleasant outside, but it smelled like rain, and I made the suggestion to build a fire in the living room. We hauled in some wood from under the porch and John started up the fire in the big living room fireplace.

We'd already killed most of a bottle of White Zinfandel with dinner, so I emptied its dregs into our glasses and opened a new one. We lounged on the couch, watching "Ghost" on the DVD I was doing more watching than they were; after the previous night, they had lost at least some of their inhibitions in front of me. They were exchanging long, deep, wet kisses, and it looked like she'd be deep-throating him soon, putting our plans awry, if I didn't step in soon.

"Hey, Daphne, come with me," I said, tugging at her arm. She frowned, then realized what I was doing, and extricated herself. We retreated as far as the kitchen.

"Damn, I almost forgot," she said.

"I thought so. I decided to pull you out before you got too involved." My heart was pounding.

She was already naked, her leggings and shirt pooled on the floor at her feet, and I was close behind.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Yes. No!" I was suddenly apprehensive. What if John didn't want me? "You're sure he'll go for this?" I asked.

"He will, Anna,"

"But he's my brother! You said he loses himself in the moment. Maybe he won't want to pick up where we left off last night." I was suddenly, inexplicably sure he wouldn't want me. I shivered and hugged myself.

Daphne put both arms around me. "Don't worry. He won't be able to resist us. Let's just go do it." She squeezed me, gave me a quick kiss, then grabbed the wine bottle in one hand and my hand in the other, pulling me into the dining room.

The couch was in the middle of the big, sunken living room, facing the TV and the fireplace, its back to the dining room door. John held his almost-empty wine glass in his right hand. Daphne motioned me to the left and I took my place silently behind the couch.

Daphne leaned over her end of the couch and poured the wine. He turned his head to thank her and did a double-take when he saw her naked breasts.

"Daphne..." he said, looking over his shoulder to see if I was in the room. I took that as my cue and vaulted the couch to land beside him.

"Looking for me, John?" I asked. If he wasn't before, he was now.

"Anna..." he said, his eyes flicking between my breasts and my face. Then he was distracted as Daphne landed on the other side of him, took a pull from the wine bottle, and placed it straight up between her legs, nestled against her triangle.

"Anna, you want some of this wine?" she asked innocently, motioning at the suggestively placed bottle.

"Sure," I replied, and draped myself across my brother's lap, caressing the bottle first with my fingers, then my mouth. I felt like Madonna, having oral sex with a bottle, but I was rewarded by a growing hardness beneath my belly. John wasn't wearing any underwear beneath his sweats!

He put his hand on my lower back and Daphne stroked my hair as if it was her cock I was sucking on. I removed the bottle from between my lips and looked back at him.

"Surprise," I said.

The hand on me was shaking a little, but his cock was as hard as ever.

"Anna... are you sure?" he asked, sounding as nervous as I felt. I sat up and straddled his lap. His hands rested neutrally against my ankles.

"I've been asking myself that all day," I said, "and yes, I'm very sure."

"We're both very sure," Daphne said, placing a hand firmly on my thigh.

He sighed, and I could see him bow to the inevitable.

"Who am I to resist?" he said, and seized my waist. I draped my arms around his neck and planted my mouth on his. He tasted good, yielding completely to my tongue, his hands reaching around to hold my ass. I felt Daphne close by and opened my eyes to see her nibbling on his ear.

We worked together to get his clothes off, Daphne taking the top. I slid off his lap and pulled at his sweats. His cock popped free. Not until that moment did I appreciate how well-hung my brother was, and I hurried to get his pants off so I could explore his manhood in detail.

On my knees between his legs, I wrapped my fist around the shaft of his penis. He was certainly bigger than any man I'd had. I stroked the shaft, then traced around the hood of his glands with one finger, tickling the cleft below his cum-hole. A drop of pre-cum oozed its way out and I gathered it up on my finger and popped it into my mouth. John and Daphne were both watching me. He had an arm around her, under her arm and cupping her breast. He reached down and touched my cheek, his expression eager. Daphne smiled and turned to kiss him.




Trilogy



I returned my attention to the cock pulsing in my grasp. Cupping his loose scrotum with one hand, I bathed the glands with my tongue, mixing my saliva with his pre-cum. The taste was tart, grainy, and I wondered if I could get him to come in my mouth. Determined to try, I opened my mouth and took him in.

Going down on a man gives me a feeling of power. I'm in control of his pleasure. I had a very good teacher, and I used every technique I knew. Jon was bigger than I was used to, so I didn't even try to deep-throat him, but I took him as deep as I could and let my tongue do the work for awhile. Then I used my tongue and lips on the shaft, and sucked hard on the glands alone.

I don't pay any attention to what they were doing up above, but eventually I felt Daphne's skin against mine, kneeling beside me. I moved over and glanced at her. She put a hand over the one of mine that held John's cock and fondled one of my buttocks with the other.

"Want to share?" she asked.

"Sure." We both started licking his cock. He had a hand on each of our heads, moaning softly. I licked my way down his shaft and sucked his balls into my mouth one by one, letting Daphne do the deep duties. A few moments later she pointed him in my direction. I ran my fingers over the slick cum-hole and looked at him.

"I want you to come in my mouth," I told him.

"Do it, John," Daphne said. "He's got lots of stamina," she said to me. "We can make him come lots of times tonight."

"Okay," John said, "Daphne knows how to get me off. After that, I want some of Anna's tits."

"You come for me, you can have them," I replied.

"I'll pump, your suck," Daphne said. I watched her for a couple of strokes, then took the head of his cock between my lips. They each had a hand on my head as I moved it up and down. The muscles in his legs flexed and his moans grew louder. Daphne pumped his cock with a steady rhythm.

His grip on the back of my neck tightened and I knew an orgasm was imminent. Daphne stopped stroking. Taking his cock deeper, I heard him groan and received a stream of warm fluid in my mouth. I swallowed, used the increased lubrication to take him deeper, and got another squirt. It was too much and I let it spill from my lips. Letting his cock go, I was going to wipe my mouth with my hand, but Daphne got to me first, licking my lips clean then pushing her tongue into my mouth.

We knelt side by side and looked at John's amazed face.

"This isn't real, is it?" he asked. "It's just a dream I'll have to wake up from."

"No, we're real," Daphne said with a wink at me. "And now you get to do something for us."

"He gets my breasts," I said, jumping up and straddling his lap again. His cock was still hard against my vulva, but I wasn't paying any attention to it. I held my breasts out to him and he pressed his face between them. I let his hands replace mine, and he squeezed, then started pinching and rolling my nipples. The pleasure shot through my chest and down to my clitoris, using my backbone as a shivering,

quivering highway.

As John made love to my breasts, I felt warm wetness on my bottom. Daphne was licking and kissing the my butt, and her hand snaked around in front of me, between my legs, and found Jon's cock, nestled against my slit. There was no shyness to her; her hand moved against my pussy as much as it massaged his cock. I moaned with the joy of their touch.

Her other hand was busy too. She'd learned quite a lot with me that afternoon, because she was sliding a finger up my anus, moistened with her own saliva or pussy juice. She worked it in and out, finger-fucking my ass, and I almost lost it.

"Daphne, stop a minute," I gasped. "Don't move it!" I didn't want to come yet, but her finger felt just right in my ass. I pulled John's head from my breasts and pressed my open mouth against his. He reached down and grabbed both ass-

cheeks and squeezed until I broke the kiss.

I rolled off his lap, taking Daphne's finger with me, feeling the ring of my anus turn around her it. I lay against the arm of the couch, and enjoyed the sight of my brother regarding my body.

"What are you thinking?" I asked him.

"Trying to figure out how I can go down on both of you at the same time," he said. He must have been beyond amazement at the situation and into seriously taking advantage of it.

"Oooh, I knew this was going to be good!" Daphne said.

"I think I know," I said. I pushed the finger from my anus and rolled off the couch. "On your back, Daphne." She obeyed, and I lowered myself on top of her, spreading her legs with my knees, carefully positioning my mound over hers.

"Mmm, I like this," she said. I grinned down at her and looked back at John. He was already on his knees behind us, and I felt his hand exploring my pussy. From Daphne's reaction, his other hand was busy with hers. He slid a finger into me as far as it would go, and pressed his lips to my ass, almost biting, then sliding down to the inside of my thigh, and further down between Daphne's legs. Her cheek pressed hard against mine, her hands on my back.

"Ohhh," she said in my ear. I felt John's head against my thigh, but his mouth was lower down. Then it came up and his tongue probed my clitoris.

"Ummm," I said.

"This isn't it," he said. His hand rested on my rear.

"What do you have in mind?" I asked, wanting to give him whatever he wanted.

"Get up, Anna," he said.

"Only if I have to." I got up on my knees and looked at him, kneeling next to me, his cock still rock-hard.

"Here, lay on your back and put your pussy up against hers."

"Oh!" I said, seeing what he wanted. I did as he asked, my right leg over her left leg, her left leg over my right, and we moved until our nether lips were kissing. "This is good," I said. I got up on my elbows. Daphne had elevated herself similarly. I wiggled my hips.

"Umm, yeah, that is good!" she said.

John ran his hands over our bellies. "I cannot believe I've got both of you..." His hands went up over our ribcages and he took a breast in each hand, kneading them gently, contrasting their differences. I saw Daphne close her eyes and did the same, enjoying the sensation and the knowledge that Daphne was feeling the same touch.

Then I felt his breath on my pubis. This must be satisfactory, I thought, and felt him kiss first Daphne's mound, then mine. His hand left my breast and went beneath me, resting against the curve of my lower back. I opened my eyes.

He knelt at our hips, bending over our conjoined cunts. I watched his tongue stab out and find my clitoris, and I felt Daphne's thighs tremble against mine. He had hit both clits at once!

"That's it, John!" I said. "More!" He started to lick faster, sometimes getting both of us together, sometimes concentrating on one of us. His tongue was marvelous. He pressed his mouth to our mounds and his tongue probed far down between us.

A finger slid down the cleft between my buttocks. As the heat spread in my belly, I lifted one breast and started licking my nipple. This was where I wanted my first orgasm. His magic tongue concentrated on my clit and put me over the edge. Then he turned his attention to Daphne, and I heard her sounds of ecstasy and felt her legs quiver and convulse with orgasm.

We just laid there for a few minutes, a little lost in the afterglow, but I wanted more and was sure the other two did too. John hadn't fucked either of us yet, and extended foreplay wasn't what I had in mind for the evening. Carefully I extricated myself from the delightful position I was in. Jon stood to relieve his legs, and

Daphne rolled onto her belly. I stroked her rear and the insides of her thighs. She sighed.

"I really want to get fucked right now," she said.

"I can do that," John said eagerly.

"Just be sure there's some left for me," I said, looking at his erection with anticipation.

"Oh, there will be," he assured me, reaching down and giving my breast a squeeze. I smiled up at him, and he pulled me to my feet and kissed me.

"We should have done this a long time ago," he said.

"We didn't know," I replied.

"Fuck me!" Daphne said from the floor. He looked at her and hugged me.

"Your turn soon," he said.

Daphne had her rear in the air, and he slapped her ass lovingly. Her vagina gapped open just at the level of his cock, and he found the way in easily. I watched for a minute, then remembered this was supposed to be a threesome. I crawled up beside him, put one arm around him and the other hand on her bottom. He slid an arm around me and started fondling my bottom, and I initiated a kiss. It made him miss his rhythm a little, and I turned a little bit more to face him, my leg in

close contact with hers. I didn't mean to totally distract him, but pretty soon his only contact with her was his cock; his other hand was doing some wonderful things to my breasts.

Then I felt a hand between my legs. I couldn't turn to look, but Daphne must have twisted around and was probing me. She put two fingers into my vagina, then played around the rim of my asshole.

There were way too many hands on me at once and I loved it.

As John got closer to orgasm he started concentrating more on Daphne, and I put some effort into helping him along. His strokes were long, and I was able to reach down between them, circling his slick, hard cock with two fingers, pressing them back against her labia. I squeezed. It must have been just what he needed. His occasional moans turned to rhythmic grunts, and he thrust himself all the way into Daphne and let out a long loud sigh as he came.

I pulled my hand out and offered my fingers to him. He sucked them into his mouth and let them go, then he leaned over Daphne's back and cupped her breasts. I stretched out in front of her and accepted her kiss. Then she got up and hugged John.

She wiggled her fingers at me, which I took to be an invitation, so I joined the embrace. I think Daphne expected me to come up behind her, but I pressed myself up against John instead, moving my hands from his body to hers, mounding my breasts against his back, rubbing my triangle against his butt. I held one hand on Daphne's waist and insinuated the other between their bellies. He was almost as hard as he had been in the circle of my fingers.

"I've got to go," John said.

"Where?" I asked without thinking.

"To the bathroom, Anna."

"Oh!"

He left, Daphne and I sat there for a minute, catching our breath. Then I took her hand and pulled her with me to the couch. We sat with our legs entwined, our heads close together.

"Having fun?" she asked.

"You might say that," I replied, and we both laughed.

"I don't want the orgasms to end," she said, rolling her eyes. "I think it could be addicting."

"Here," I said, leaning back against the arm of the couch. "Let's do it like we were on the floor earlier." We rearranged ourselves so our pussy lips were kissing again. "Oh, that feels good just putting my pussy against yours," I said.

"It's nice," she said, "but I'm not getting enough... friction." She had a soft hand on my thigh and rolled her hips slowly, which I had to agree was pleasant, but a long way from orgasm-inducing. "Take my hands," she said, holding them out to me. We both had to half sit up, but it pushed our pussies even tighter together, and I could actually feel her erect clitoris against mine.

"Much better," I said. Holding hands, we began rocking back and forth. Soon we were panting, as much from the pleasure of our building orgasms as from the exertion. She came with a out-rush of breath and let go my hands. I moaned with disappointment and dug my fingers in between us, hardly able to separate my flesh from hers. I found my engorged nub, and diddled myself off.

Afterwards I stroked her belly and breasts with my foot. Her foot started to do the same thing, but I grabbed it and sucked on her big toe. It was then I saw John leaning on the back of the couch watching us.

"That looked like fun," he said, looking at me.

"Oh, it was. Was it fun to watch?"

"Definitely. Can I see some more?"

"Sure," Daphne said. "What would you like?"

"Hmm... how about a sixty-nine?"

"I'll get on top," I said.

Daphne scooted down so she was flat on her back and I straddled her head. She ran her hands over my thighs and flanks and breathed on my damp, hot vulva. I brushed my breasts repeatedly over her belly, enjoying the tingling in my nipples. Almost simultaneously I felt the touch of Daphne's tongue on my nether regions and John's hand caressing my back and buttocks. My breasts spread against Daphne's stomach and I buried my head between her legs, licking from clit to the bottom of her vagina and back. It wasn't the most comfortable position, but the things Daphne was doing to me were divine and I tried to reciprocate. I got the first orgasm this time, but kept eating at her until I felt her convulsing beneath me.

I rolled off of her and sat beside the couch and kissed her thoroughly. I swear I had never had another woman who was as good as she was. But I was more than ready for some cock. The softness and mirror-familiarity of another woman is all very well and good, but I was ready for a pounding penis.

"John, I really need you," I said, holding out my hand to him. I rolled onto my back, knees up and legs spread wide. He seemed to know that there was no need for preliminaries as he knelt between my legs, his hands on my knees, his cock standing magnificently at a proud upward angle. He bent over and kissed me, and I felt the blunt tip of that enormous cock seeking my slick, waiting pussy. I reached down and took him in my hand, taking just a moment to squeeze and pump him before guiding him to his reward. 

When he felt the tip between my labia he pushed. With an exquisite mix of pain and pleasure he went all the way in with one thrust of his hips, burying his cock to its root inside of me. I'd never had a cock his size in me, and I was in heaven when he started the long, slow strokes that went from all the way in to almost all the way out and back again.

"Anna, you're so tight..." he said. "Umm, so good..."

"And you're so big, lover," I replied, catching my breath as he buried himself in me again. "Faster, please!"

He obeyed, and my whole world became the joining of my sex and his sex, the increasing speed of his pumping cock in my receiving cunt, and Daphne's hands massaging my breasts. The pleasure was beyond orgasm. I was in a fuzzy, tingling world where my hands touched nothing but his skin, where the only sounds were our breathing and moans, the only smells our sweat and the musk from between our legs.

His strokes became shorter and faster and I knew he was close to coming. I raised my feet and wrapped my legs around his waist. The change in angle did it for both of us. Our orgasms were almost simultaneous, the feeling of his semen pumping into my vagina triggering my own explosion of ecstasy. He kept going for a few more strokes, making sure it was all out, before lowering himself onto me, smothering me with an overwhelming kiss.

"Oh, God that was good," I said when he finally removed his tongue from my mouth. I held him tight with both arms and legs, feeling his cock slowly shrinking inside of me. We three cuddled awhile longer, and he got up.

I must have fallen asleep for awhile, because the next thing I remember it was dark and I had an afghan over me. The storm had gotten quite wild outside, and the only light inside was the fire and the occasional stab of lightning. Jon and Daphne were sitting in front of the fire, silhouetted to me. I shook off the blanket and went over to them.

"Hi, Anna," John said, reaching up to touch my leg.

"Hi," I said. "Did I sleep very long?"

"No. Electricity went out a few minutes ago."

Daphne curled her hand around the inside of my leg, and I obligingly widened my stance to accommodate her.

"You ready for more?" she asked. I took stock of my body and decided that yes, I was, and I told her so. She got her knees in front of me, put her hands on my buttocks, and began to lap at my pussy. My clit was sensitive and the feeling of euphoria was almost instantaneous. I buried both hands in her hair and savored the pleasure.

I wasn't surprised at all when I felt John take hold of my hips from behind. He snuggled in close, his cock nestling up between my ass-cheeks. He moved it up and down as he held my breasts, which easily spilled out of his hands. He must have liked it, because he kept taking hold of them, kneading them, then letting them fall from his hands as if he couldn't contain their bulk. It only added to my enjoyment.

"I want to put my cock in them," he said in my ear just before biting it gently.

"Yeah," I said. "Daphne, stop...he wants to fuck my breasts." She gave my clit a last hard suck and sat back. I pulled away from his cock, which was almost in my rear, and sat next to her. "Let me slick it up a little," I said. He got on his knees between my legs and I took his cock in my mouth. He held my head with both hands as I tried to take him all the way in, without success. Daphne was right up against me,one arm around me and the other hand between my legs, taking up where her tongue had left off a moment before.

He was plenty wet now; his cock gleamed in the firelight. I lay back and he straddled my ribs as I pushed my breasts part way together, leaving plenty of room for him to put his cock. He bent over more until it lay heavy and hot between my breasts, and I squeezed them all the way together so he was completely engulfed in my soft flesh. It's times like this that I appreciate my oversized tits.

His strokes were long, just like they had been between my legs earlier, and at the upper end I took the head of his cock in my mouth.

John only tit-fucked me for a few minutes before withdrawing his cock. He slapped my hip and told me to roll over. Daphne rose with me, and we got on our hands and knees facing each other. Jon put his cock between us. We both licked it, our tongues touching each other as much as we touched him. After a few minutes he took up a position behind me, his hands working my ass-cheeks, as Daphne and I lip-locked. His penis poked first at my anus, then my vagina, and there he started pushing slowly into me.

When he was in all the way he bent over me and seized my breasts again, roughly squeezing and rolling my nipples, making me come, the muscles of my vagina gripping and releasing his immobile cock. When he released my breasts, Daphne was right beneath me, taking my abused nipples in her mouth, soothing them with her lips and tongue. John had a tight grip on my hips and started pumping, fucking me doggy style, hard and fast. Daphne scooted further underneath me, letting my

tits brush along her breasts and belly, until she was underneath my pussy. I felt her reach up and touch us with her fingers. Then I felt her tongue and lips caress our sexes as John's hips pumped. A moment later I felt my brother's thumb moving along the rim of my asshole, and with a push it was in. Fleetingly I wished for another man so all three holes could be filled, but then I imagined one of Daphne's fingers in his ass, and felt with one hand along Daphne's stomach, across her mons, and down, plunging two fingers into her vagina. The thought of each of us inside the other sent a thrill through me. I moaned aloud, my orgasm coming closer. John pushed all the way in and started pumping semen into me, his thumb up my ass as far as it would go. I dipped my head between Daphne's legs, my own cries of ecstasy muffled against her muff, and her vagina closed around my fingers again and again. We collapsed in a heap of arms and legs and tits and cock, sharing kisses and sucking tongues and flesh without regard to what it was or who it belonged to.

The End...