1 comments/ 14634 views/ 4 favorites Out of the Burlap Ch. 00-01 By: maxicue NOTE: This starts a bit weird. I actually incorporated an older prose poem of mine to use as "Joe's Dream" in the Prologue which may be a bit hard to understand. Don't worry. Things get much easier to read afterwards. The story occurs in the Twin Cities of Minneapolis and St Paul in the mid to late nineties. There may be similarities to real people, but this is complete fiction and the characters live only in this world and not the real one. --max Out of the Burlap Ch. 00-01 Maya nodded. "So what have you been doing since graduating high school?" Joe chuckled. "When do I get to grill you?" "You're an enigma. I'm just a boring old rock star." "VH-1 makes quite a lot of money on advertizing during hour long biographies of rock stars." "Clichés," Maya argued. "Clichés sell." "You're not." "Maybe not. But I'm not a bonafide rock star anyway. Where's the entourage? Does this look like a mansion? Where's the pool surrounded by beautiful sluts and decadent and corrupted playas playing the Dorian Gray angle with face lifts and tummy tucks or expensive physical trainers? I'm just a girl ruled by a not very lucrative passion and ego demanding me to create music and lead bands." "Which I admire about you," Joe said, adding the admission, "You have the balls to put it out there unlike me." "What do you mean?" "Never mind." "But I do mind. What aren't you putting out? Are you a latent rock star afraid to come out of the closet?" "I can't sing nor play an instrument. I have a tin ear and the best I could get out of the family upright piano was a horrible version of Chopsticks." "That doesn't seem to matter to a lot of punk rock bands." "True," Joe winced, "unfortunately. I'd rather keep silent than subject audiences to cacophony and ugliness. I prefer music that has a beautiful form whether in its melodies or surprising progressions. In fact I prefer that in all my art." "You like my form?" asked Maya with a flirty smirk. "Yes," Joe breathed. "I like yours too." They paused to eat their cooled meal while gazing admiringly at each other. "You never answered my question," she finally said. Joe chewed another mouthful of vegetarian stir fry before responding with eyes downward towards the plate, "I write lyrics." "Oh." "I won't subject you to them." "Are they that bad?" "I don't know. Maybe. But I don't think they're bad when I write them. They're...They're my passion." "Oh." Lifting his eyes from his plate, he brought a quixotic smile to his face when he looked at her and said, "They're my only passion." "Oh." Moments later having finished the last of her meal, Maya looked at Joe and smiled. "Almost done?" "Unh-hunh. Need me to head out?" "We'll head out together once I put away the leftovers and clean up, okay?" "Okay," Joe smiled. The tightness in his pants returned. It increased when they playfully butted hips at the kitchen sink and became uncomfortably tight when they shared their second deep kiss even more enjoyable than the first at the record store. "Mmm," she murmured afterwards. "Give me a few minutes to shower and change?" "No hurry," said Joe. He perused her record collection finding a pleasing diversity of punk, power pop, soul, r & b, jazz—mostly black female singers he also admired, but also favorite big bands like Basie and Ellington and players like Coltrane and Miles Davis—and both classical and more contemporary compositional music. He discovered the "Blow-Up Dolls" vinyl and put it on the turntable enjoying Maya's sensuous voice and the clarity of her lyrics, both unique to her. Melodies were simple yet pleasing. Only a couple had bridges, the rest only moving from verses to choruses with some speeding or shifting to a more aggressive loudness ala Nirvana. Guitar solos were brief and rudimentary and appropriate to the tight structure of the songs. "Actually sounds pretty good," said Maya, dressed sans provocation in a light gray sweatshirt and loose fitting jeans, her hair fluffy and shining and with a dark copper henna aura he hadn't noticed before. Without make-up her pale features looked cuter and somehow more vulnerable and approachable. "Unh-hunh," Joe agreed. She set down the black acoustic guitar case and lifted onto her toes and kissed him warmly if briefly. While putting away the album in its sleeve, she asked him, "Could you grab the guitar?" "Going to some gig?" "Nope," she smiled. Rearranging the small black stuffed backpack on her shoulder, she headed towards the door. "Let's go." He noticed she kept the album in her hand. Joe didn't live far from her. She drove her old, softly curved dark green Volvo ("My father loved this car and kept it running and willed it to me when he died," she explained. "Sorry," said Joe. "Thanks," she sniffled.) less than ten minutes to get there. But she still managed to get more information out of him. "So what did you do after high school?" she asked. "She's persistent," Joe thought with a half grin, wondering if that was good or bad. Would she tear away the skin and reveal the burlap that impinged on him or protected him or held him back from exposing tender nerves? Could he stand it? Did he need it? "Construction," he replied. "Kept you in shape." "Yep. The dancing kept me loose." "I'm glad of that," she giggled, eyeing him with predatory eyes and licking her lips. She got more serious. "Not enough work? It's pretty seasonal." "Not so much that as I got...it got old and no chance of advancement, though I guess I didn't really care about that so much. Mostly it got old. I've always loved music and perusing used record stores and asked the guy at the counter one day—he turned out to be the owner—if he needed employees. Turns out he did." "How long ago was that?" "Four years. And I keep myself in construction worker shape at the downtown Y." "How come I never saw you?" "Been to the St Paul store much?" "No. Never. The uptown store usually provides my needs." "Tony keeps a great store." "The big, older guy?" "Yep." "He told me to talk to you." "I wondered why you were in St Paul with a store nearly across the street." "That's why." "We're here," said Joe. She parked in front of the nondescript brick apartment building. "Sorry about the mess," he apologized upon opening his apartment door, and it was messy. Maya shrugged, "Bachelor pad," and removed a couple books from an old overstuffed chair, a colorful floral bed sheet serving as reupholstery and sat, resting the black guitar case against the side of the chair. Joe got busy locating his Gong albums, specifically the Flying Teapot trilogy, from rows of records leaning on their sides against other records filed alphabetically on shelves. He put on the first album of the trilogy and handed her the record sleeve. "Never heard of them," she said. "Not many have. A part of the early Virgin Records groups that followed Mike Oldfield's success with Tubular Bells that began Richard Branson's rise to billionaire. Not until the Sex Pistols did he score any real success with the label's artists after Oldfield." "It's kind of jazzy and trippy." "Yeah." "Pot head pixies," she chuckled. "Yeah its very drug oriented. It's the Flying Teapot trilogy, and the tea referred to isn't your mother's English Tea, but..." "Shrooms?" "Exactly. It's the general state of mind of the trilogy. Speaking of which, want to smoke a doobie?" "Sure," she replied. Grabbing a favorite gatefold sleeved album, Soft Machine's "Third," ("I think I've heard of them," Maya said. "One of my top five bands," Joe replied) he lifted the roof off of a square copper green patina incense holder that resembled a Chinese shack that sat beside the long oval shaped ivory colored phone on a small table and removed a rolled up baggy of hash buds and a pack of Zig Zags. He sank into an old couch upholstered in white sheet and worked on breaking up the buds. "I like it," she smiled. "I like the cute tunes but especially the dreamy, spacey music between them." "Yeah, me too," he responded. "Really good musicians, but not showoffy, you know?" "They all have aliases," she noticed, reading the notes on the back of the album. "Yeah, sort of Eastern Indian and Gaelic witchery or something mixed together. Daevid Allen is the mad man behind it. He's a pretty interesting fellow. He's originally Australian, ended up in Paris during the big revolt in sixty-eight and got kicked out of France for fomenting revolution." "No shit." "Yeah. And he's like one of the first hippies. But the band's an amalgam of French and British musicians. I think their real names are on there somewhere." Joe pulled the joint together and lit it, handing the joint to Maya as soon as he filled his lungs. "Good shit," she said after sucking in a couple lungs full. "Let me roll you one for the road," he offered and she nodded. Once completed, Joe put away the pot and returned the album to an unfiled stack, picking the joint from her fingers and having another toke. When he sat back on the couch, she sat beside him. They smoked and listened. Joe enjoyed contact with her body, noticeable in its subtlety. When the side ended, he flipped it to the other side and returned to his close proximity to her on the couch. "I'm getting pretty stoned," she giggled. "Where'd you get it?" "Tom Saxon." "I know Tom. Keyboards. He's pretty crazy. Into Nazi shit if I remember right." "Not in the Holocaust sense," Joe explained, "but in the weird mysticism they embraced. I suppose as an American Indian, I'm sure Hitler would never have welcomed him. He's big on esoteric mysticism or tripped out conspiracies that border on the paranoid like lizard people and such." "Lizard people?" "Yeah. There's a group of people that believe we're being ruled by lizard people from another planet; that the Bush family and the British royal family are really lizards." "That's pretty nuts." "Yeah, but he's a good guy. In fact he turned me on to Gong and Soft Machine," Joe pointed to the cover that he used to roll the joint, "and other stuff. I'm too young to have grown up on it." "How'd you get to know him?" "Fellow record store geek," Joe shrugged. "He worked at a friend's store on the other side of the highway from Cheapo until they had a falling out. He used to come visit my store a lot and we talked and he invited me to his apartment and turned me on to a bunch of Art Rock that he actually grew up with. He's like in his forties believe it or not. He favors Yes by the way, but when I commented they worked too hard at it, took themselves too seriously even with their goofy lyrics, he brought out Gong and I got hooked ever after. He even snagged me my collection from his ex-friend's store." "That's cool. And you like this Soft Machine?" "Yeah. I don't know if you'd be into them. Their music is a bit more convoluted and complicated and not really spacey. But I love the lead singer of their earlier albums, Robert Wyatt. He has a sweet, sad, high voice and a dark sense of humor that got sadder and darker when he became a paraplegic. In fact the album he created after his accident—he went solo after it—is my favorite but it's pretty depressing I guess. You want to hear more Gong?" "Maybe later. Is that Robert Wyatt on that Soft Machine album?" "One of my favorites. The songs are all long, filling a whole side." Joe stood and grabbed the Soft Machine album and found the side he wanted and put it on. "It's called Moon in June." When he sat back beside her, she turned and pulled his mouth to hers. During the intense kiss, her fingers found his nipples. He got the message and began playing with her firm breasts, discovering her nipples lengthening obviously beneath her sweatshirt. Her fingers went south and found his cock creating a lengthy hillock along his thigh. He followed her lead again and found heat and the suggestion of dampness at her center. She caressed and he rubbed. They groaned into each other's mouths. Lips separated. She stared heatedly into his eyes. "I have to go to work soon," she sighed. "Practice?" "Nope. Nothing musical, at least in terms of my own music, and the dancing I do isn't about rehearsal." Realization hit Joe like a softly slung pillow. He laughed. "What's funny?' she asked. "A record nerd recognized you, and now I know why he got embarrassed and blushed." "Yeah, I've danced on his lap a time or two. Not much for tipping." They shared a laugh which ended in a soft, sensuous kiss. She stood and pulled him to his feet. "Bedroom? Wooh!" she exclaimed when he lifted her into his arms, his hand holding her buttocks, the thumb pressing at her slit. "I couldn't resist your petiteness," he explained with a grin. "My big man," she crooned. "Twist the knob," he requested. "Which one," she giggled. "The doorknob first," he chuckled. They entered a small, tidy room filled by a queen sized bed and lined with bookshelves crammed with books. "Hey, it's neat in here." "Old habit from the farmhouse," he shrugged before carefully lowering her onto the dark gray quilt on the made bed. "I guess the same habit keeps the door closed when I'm not in the bedroom. Nosy sisters." Maya knelt on the bed and reached up to unbutton his shirt. "Get lower please," she requested. He knelt on the floor. His hands grabbed the bottom of her sweatshirt and pulled up. Lifting her arms, she giggled. He found out why. She wore nothing underneath. "I guess you don't believe in layering," he commented appreciatively, finishing up his unbuttoning and quickly removing his shirt and his undershirt. "I like the feel of the fleece on my titties," she told him before humming contentedly and stroking his tight torso, her fingers sharing the mouth teasing of his nipples. His fingers kept busy discovering the textures of her quarter inch length nipples and quarter sized areolas that crinkled delightfully. She hummed again, with a bit of a moan to it, at his caresses. He loved women who loved their nipples played with. Her breast flesh might not have been as elastic as other women's, but he discovered the softness and especially the smoothness of her skin on those ample orbs. In fact her entire torso had tautness to it but with a layer of soft smooth flesh. Its paleness seemed to glow in the darkened room. Her hands lowered to squeeze his buttocks and lift. He got the hint and stood, still managing to keep caressing her incredible tits. After a kiss and some tongue play on his navel she grinned up at him while her hands unlatched his belt, unbuttoned the button of his jeans and unzipped them, pulling the denim out of the way of her goal. His cock, nearing eight inches in length, tented his newest boxers striped green and gold and black. He'd changed into them for this very possibility. "Nice," she murmured, stroking the tent pole. He figured it wasn't the underpants until she said, "My sharp dressed man." She took the knob into her mouth and sucked it through the cotton. It felt weird but intense. "Oooh," he moaned. Releasing the knob, she grinned lasciviously up at him before pealing away the final barrier and letting his cock bounce free. It soon stopped swaying, being captured in her mouth. More moaning ensued. Reaching low, he unfastened her loose jeans and pulled them off, her lifting her butt to allow their removal. Again nakedness greeted him and the sweetest little pussy he had ever seen as bare naked as the rest of her, sans fringe. Only her argyle socks remained on her. His were plain white. With great care he crawled over her, his head near the foot of the bed, and rolled her onto him. Her split opened for him when she straddled his head beckoning to be tasted and invaded. Moistening his fingers with his mouth, the tips slid along the edges of perfection, opening her further. They caressed her labia bringing moans vibrating on his cock where her lips had been gently stroking. The moans got louder when his tongue tip grazed her clit. She smelled clean and sweet and musky. Her odor excited him even more. His tongue circled her clit, dabbing at the head while his fingers continued their circles of her labia with occasional dips inside her, feeling the narrowness of her channel. Things soon got more intense. He intensified his oral and digital caresses with a gradual ramping that within a few minutes became vigorous vibrations of tongue tip against clit tip, playing it like a speed bag, while his fingers delved deeper inside her and began thrusting and gradually filling the narrow space, from one finger to two to three. The middle one found the roughened texture that identified her g-spot and moved gradually towards a vigorous rubbing. With one hand fucking her, the other explored the soft smoothness of her taut round little butt and fingers played the edge of her anus, rimming it and penetrating to the first knuckle occasionally. Additional moans suggested she liked ass play. Her lips had also quickened on shaft and knob. He felt the slippery pleasure of her tongue within the lips become almost frantic as she polished that knob. But her building orgasm ended felatio for the moment. She hummed and moaned and breathed heavier until everything became a squeal as she shivered on his lips and poured forth a light thin stream of delicious liquid. "Good," she murmured throatily, her shivers subsiding. He continued caressing her cunt and butt with quieter attention as she returned to her task of producing an equivalent reaction with mouth on cock. Unfortunately he rarely came via a woman's mouth which he told her. Her lips noisily released his glans. "We'll see about that," she said challengingly. "Sit on the edge of the bed." Her eyes never strayed from his as she knelt between his legs and sucked him and stroked him aggressively. That visual connection along with her pleasuring of him taking all attention soon brought forth his semen to fill her small mouth. After the first ejaculation, she pulled the throbbing cock out and placed the head at her neck to coat it with the rest of his pearlescent semen. Once the last of it eked out, he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her. "I have to go soon," she said reluctantly, a soft, sensual smile on her face. "I wanted to leave time to read some of your lyrics. Let me clean up and dress while you choose some of your writing for me to see." After another kiss, she darted into the bathroom. Out of the Burlap Ch. 00-01 "Fresh wounds," Joe murmured. "Losing Daddy more than Danny. Like I said, I'm a difficult girlfriend, not to mention a little too detached and self-involved to really be in love." Eyes met; sad eyes. She picked up her guitar and strummed. Finding a melody seemingly out of nowhere but with a hint of similarity to Led Zeppelin's Stairway to Heaven, itself based on the melodies of English folk song, her slightly high sensuous voice brought music to his lyrics for the first time. He felt dazzled and more alive than he ever had. The excitement of it actually made him hard. "Thanks," he murmured after she finished, repeating the last line as a sort of climax of a chorus. She giggled at his rapturous expression and lightly kissed his lips. "I like it," she said. "We need verses for this chorus now. Maybe contrasting thoughts between sisters?" "Sounds kind of country." Maya shrugged. "Why not? I always admired Richard Thompson and he combines old English folk songs with a kind of American country and western. He tells tales in his songs." "Not to mention his killer guitar playing." Another shrug and Maya responded, "I never bowed to the gods of guitar, but I do admire his beautiful restraint." She then picked her way through an amazing rendition of "Did She Fall or Was She Pushed?" by Thompson, wowing Joe. Thompson's contemplation on the death of Sandy Denny, his friend and former lead singer of their band "Fairport Convention" never sounded more plaintive or more beautiful. "You've never revealed your talent," he told her afterwards. "I started playing guitar before I was ten, and Daddy was a big fan of Richard Thompson, so I learned from him." "You play like that in front of an audience and they'll be enthralled. With a fiddle and a stand up bass and maybe a mandolin, it would be lovely." "But I want the stony, spacey music I heard in Gong," she argued. "I really loved it." "That's what bows are for," Joe smiled. "And synthesizers," Maya grinned. "So definitely not bluegrass." "God forbid." Out of the Burlap Ch. 00-01 "Sure," she smiled. When he lifted them, her Blow-Up Dolls album appeared behind underneath. "I should sign that," she said. He handed it to her and she extracted a blue sharpie from her purse and wrote in cursive across the back, "To my dearest Joe King Solomon, May your burlap dissolve. Maya." He nodded when he read it. "You know, it did with you for awhile. Longer than it ever had with a lover. In fact..." "What?" "I never felt...so..." She smiled and kissed his tear and threw her purse and back pack over her shoulder and grabbed her guitar. "See you," she smiled sadly as she passed through his apartment door he had opened for her. "...free," he muttered when she disappeared down the stairs. Out of the Burlap Ch. 00-01 "Another joint?" asked Joe. Both girls agreed. "So what happened?" asked Maya. "I guess I pissed my girlfriend off," Carol continued. "One of those boys I ogled at ogled back. Like the other boys he was tall and cute like you, Joe. I just felt more attracted to boys who wouldn't end up with their faces in my neck or my breast if I ever got to hug them. I've always been taller than most of my classmates until the boys had their growth spurts and a few became taller than me. I wanted my face in those places. I wanted to feel embraced the way a woman should be embraced by a man I guess. Maybe since my father is nearly as tall as you Joe, it's a bit incestuous. Probably. Anyway Jenny, my girlfriend saw me and Mike talking rather intimately. He ended up being cutely shy and I managed to break him out of his shell and he turned out to be a pretty cool guy for a jock. A talented wide receiver and kick off returner and the shortstop for the baseball team. He didn't like basketball though the coach recruited him heavily." "You must have liked basketball," Joe guessed. "Of course. All those cute guys in like halter shirts and shorts. I especially loved the daring ones who went without t-shirts." The threesome giggled. "But Mike disliked it for the same reason I liked it: a contact sport with naked sweaty skin sliding against skin. He insisted it wasn't that, that it just wasn't his game, but he was a bit of a homophobe, probably latent or something, one of his few flaws. When he made fun of one of the more fey students, I put my foot down, giving him lessons in sensitivity, using Jenny as an example ironically enough." She chuckled. "I guess that turned him on, imagining me with another girl, the hypocrite. "Anyway, as it turned out, we'd saved another girl from a lonely life of yearning for forbidden fruit so to speak, me and Jenny. The girl was a year younger than us, and we brought her into my bed. I think she preferred me, but when Jenny discovered Mike and me, the younger lesbian ended up comforting her and they ended up a couple, though I don't know where they could make out since my bed had been our sanctuary." "So you and Mike became an item," Maya guessed. "Oh yeah. I had to teach him how to please me, but he ended up being a good student." "And did he get to experience that fantasy?" asked Joe. "Watching girls make love?" Carol blushed. "Yeah. A pretty raven haired girl as petite as you, Maya, a cheerleader in fact. Like me she liked both sexes. But like me she preferred males. That was like a highlight of pleasure for my high school years. Unfortunately she had an agenda. I think she had a bigger crush than me on Mike. And being a senior like him with me being a junior, and her being a cheerleader cheering on her stud, she definitely had the advantage. I heard they're married now." "Oh," said Maya, looking from Joe to Carol and back, realizing the implication of repeating that event, seeing the way Carol wanted Joe and that Joe would choose the petite one. When the ladies' eyes met, they communicated Carol's fear and resignation and Maya shook her head and smiled. Joe didn't have a clue about the silent communication. "So did your father witness your inclinations as they developed?" he asked. "I think me being a tomboy made him suspect I might be gay. But he's a pretty enlightened guy and never objected to my relationship with Jenny. In fact he liked her. But I couldn't help noticing a bit of relief from Daddy when Mike entered my life, literally and figuratively," she giggled, "although that was tempered by a tinge of jealousy and sadness that his girl was not so much an innocent daughter anymore. And he never got along quite as well with Mike as he did with Jenny, probably due to that jealousy and sadness, but more because he thought Mike wasn't good enough for me. Mike was fairly smart, did well in school, but not smart enough for Daddy." She chuckled. "I'm like you," said Maya seemingly out of the blue at least to Joe. "I like girls, always have, but prefer boys. And I had a similar situation recently, sharing a bed with my pretty bassist and my handsome boyfriend, only to end up losing both of them to each other." "Oh," said Carol. "And you'll have him to yourself when you dance." "And you'll have him to yourself when you put music to his words." They gazed into each other's eyes. A broad smile grew on both their faces. "Fuck it," they both exclaimed nearly simultaneously. And they attacked an oblivious Joe. Maya went high and Carol went low. Maya's lips stopped his exclamation of surprise. The coffee table got bumped by Carol though every container had been drained dry. Maya broke the kiss and smiled at his smile. He looked past her at Carol struggling with his buckle. He pushed the coffee table with both legs forcing it away from her back despite the resistance of the shag rug. Then he helped unbuckling and unbuttoning and lifted his butt when she unzipped and she tugged away both jeans and boxers, freeing the way for her lips to enclose the glans on his half hard cock. "Ooh," he moaned as Maya unbuttoned his shirt just enough to pull it and the undershirt over his head. She followed immediately with the pealing off of her cashmere sweater revealing nothing underneath. "Let me guess," Joe moaned. "You love the feel of cashmere on your nipples." "Uhn-hunh," she moaned, his mouth attaching to one of those stiff teats. "Beautiful," murmured Carol after releasing Joe's quickly expanding cock from her lips with a pop. Illustrating the object of praise, she reached up to squeezed the other tit, though the object she had been squeezing and rubbing before could have also been described as she shifted her gaze to it, admiring it between licks of the glans. "God I'm horny," Maya groaned, pulling away from the hand and the lips on her tits and standing up on the couch. It was an unsteady position, but Joe kept her from falling by grasping those firm melons as she peeled off her tight red leather pants and the red thong beneath it. "I have condoms in my purse," she told Carol. "I want to taste his cum first," Carol argued. "Okay. I'll help," Maya decided and balanced her body upside down against Joe, her legs spread wide, knees balancing on the top edge of the couch bringing her succulent cunt to his lips while guiding his cock into her mouth. Carol took this moment to remove Joe's pants and boxers from his lower legs and to get naked herself. Pulling the coffee table even farther away, she knelt low and suckled his balls. Her hand replaced her mouth carefully squeezing them as her mouth lifted to suck along the bottom of his cock. Soon enough lips met. Maya removed his cock and tilted her head and both ladies kissed around his glans, a French kiss that involved the glans more than delving into another mouth. Two hands rubbed his cock at different paces and pressures. Joe entered heaven, completely distracted from pleasuring Maya. "I'm cumming," he announced before latching onto Maya's clit and buzzing it with his groans of bliss. Maya backed off Joe's glans, and it immediately occupied Carol's mouth. She sucked and rubbed her lips along the edges of the helmet until he gushed slimy, bittersweet liquid that expanded her cheeks filling the little space left not filled by his big, throbbing plum. She swallowed what she could, letting some slide out at the edges. Glancing at Maya who shook her head, she kept taking his seed inside her while her hand and Maya's both milked the cock for all it had, gulping down the depleting semen as it entered her mouth. "Too much," Joe complained and pulled his hips back. Though languid and sated, he returned to feasting on Maya's cunt. Maya moaned from the attention and sought Carol's mouth, tasting the remnants of cum there. The kiss intensified as Carol grabbed hold of Maya's nipples and gently twisted them. Maya briefly stopped the kiss to tell her new lover, "squeeze them hard," before resuming it. Soon Maya's moans echoed in Carol's mouth. A last deep breath needed more air, so their kiss ended. The breath held, Maya's body stiffened, and its tight exhale created a keening squeal. A trembling followed which echoed the pulsations of her pussy. Lapping up the nectar that oozed out, Joe relished it as if it were ambrosia from the gods. And to Joe it was, or at least one goddess. The goddess of bliss and of comfort. Despite wonderful satiation, Maya revealed a wicked smile to Carol when she murmured, "Your turn, Blondie." Pouting cutely Carol replied, "About time. Let's move this to my bed." Maya flopped onto the couch on her knees. "I'll grab the condoms; they're extra large." "I'm on the pill and haven't fucked in almost a year," Carol argued. "You?" she asked Joe. "Even longer without a condom," Joe answered. "I'm on the pill too, and my ex always wore condoms," Maya told them. "In the rock and roll world it's a necessity." "Cool," said Carol walking away. "I'd hate to cover such a beautiful cock." Both Maya and Joe watched the rippling muscles of a perfect pear shaped ass, mesmerized. Joe praised it in a murmur and Maya responded with, "And it's ours." When they entered the bedroom they saw Carol leaning down towards a stack of CDs, her wondrous ass and the juicy split beneath it beckoning. It raised interest in Joe's cock, but not quite enough yet to fill that opening. "I'm looking for the perfect music," Carol explained, her head tilted upwards and smiling at the direction of her new lovers' eyes. "Let me look," said Joe. "You two play." But before he took over perusing her CD collection he knelt on another shag carpet and pressed his face into that gap that seemed ready for it. "Oooh," Carol moaned, twitching her ass and widening her legs. With well tuned balance, she remained in position while Joe tongued her, shafting her as deep as he could inside while his arm circled her thighs to bring fingers into play strumming her clit. His other hand reached and tugged at her nipples pointing downwards from hanging pert b-cup tits. Carol moaned and swayed against his mouth, fucking it, but gently. Even Maya kneeling behind him and pulling on his ever thickening and elongating cock couldn't distract Joe from the focus in bringing Carol her climax. It still took nearly five minutes. He had to hold her up at the end, because the power of it collapsed her knees. After a quick slide of his tongue into her anus and a kiss there, he gave her a gentle slap on her butt, saying, "Now go play, you two." The ladies laid on the unmade bed, the fitted sheet open, the top sheet and blankets pushed aside since the morning creating a soft ridge along the foot of the bed and along the far edge. The much more petite Maya settled on top of the long lean body of the blonde as they kissed. When lips separated, eyes connected and they shared smiles. "How long have you been attracted to him?" asked Maya quietly and listened to Carol's response while studying her lithe body with her fingers. "Since I first saw Joe a couple years ago...I guess he fascinated me. Maybe because I thought he was with Randy or maybe because he seemed rather distant in a way, it's more that I studied him than I crushed on him. But...I slowly saw the permafrost melt away and we got to be friends in just little conversations that I always enjoyed, either amusing or kind of interesting. It's just yesterday after all that time that I realized Randy and him weren't lovers when Randy went after the cute new boy in our company and Joe didn't bat an eye. So I guess tonight I saw him with new eyes, the barrier being opened and my horny eyes being allowed in." "You bought the Eno," Joe exclaimed, pulling out Discreet Music from her collection and extracting the CD. "Perfect!" Carol giggled. "You told me it's perfect for massage...and for sex." "Definitely," he chuckled. The soft, deep, resonant music began oozing from her high end speakers. Looking at the two beauties looking up at him, Joe commented, "I thought I told you ladies to play." "We decided to talk," said Maya. "About what?" he asked while opening Carol's thighs and kissing and licking up them. "You," Carol murmured. "There are better things to talk about and better things to do with your mouths," he said. "We don't think so," said Maya while Carol moaned from his talented tongue demonstrating its skills again. "If you don't...want us to talk...about you...at least let us...play with you," Carol murmured between erotic sighs. "Bring me that gorgeous cock." He rearranged himself to lie on his side between the women, his head towards the foot of the bed so that his cock rested near Carol's mouth. The ladies began to play with it, mostly Maya, as Carol found herself deeply distracted by Joe's talented mouth. The cock became full sized in Maya's mouth, at least his plum. Carol shivered through another, much quicker orgasm before mewling, "Please fuck me Joe." The ladies had shared kisses between cock suckings, but when Maya released his glans with a pop, they concentrated on their kisses while Maya continued her caresses, focusing more and more on Carol breasts and her taut little pink nipples. Meanwhile Joe crawled between long lean muscular legs and rubbed his wet glans along Carol's wet gash before pushing gently in. "Mmm," Carol hummed with pleasure into Maya's mouth. Resting on elbows and knees, Joe took hold of Carol's ass cheeks as his cock sank deeper and deeper into remarkable tightness. For a tall girl, she had a narrow passage. He commented on it. "It hasn't been filled in a long time," Carol groaned between kisses. "And never by such a thick and beautiful filler." Her inner walls may have been slippery, but they gave enough resistance to keep his filling of her slow and careful. When finally completely submerged, he savored the moment. "So good," Carol mewled, looking at him and at their connection in awe. "Perfect," he murmured back. "Fuck me, Joe," she murmured moments later. "With pleasure," Joe grinned. They could connect with their eyes because Maya had drifted lower with her kisses, coaxing even more pleasure from the sexy blonde working her nipples before going lower. Fingers slid across Carol's abdomen, pressing at smooth flesh that rippled with muscles until they brushed damp blonde pubic hair, a soft triangular beard and continued further to feel the tiny ridge of a clit where the pubic hair pointed and the frothy beginning of a slit and the powerful, lubricant slick shaft sliding in and out. There they acted with her tongue that followed their journey to increase Carol's pleasure exponentially. "Oooh," Carol cooed. "Oh," she moaned. "Mmm," she hummed with each thrust of his cock. Her noises quickened as his thrust quickened until they became gasps. It had been a gentle slope, building speed, but in the end he pounded fast and hard and Carol greeted each savage thrust with a pelvic thrust. They banged together for minutes with her ceasing her upward motion when stilled by orgasm, her mouth tightening letting only a lengthy squeak get released. It happened twice, but third time was the charm as Joe went into hyper-speed, lost in his own imminent climax. When his balls released their seed, he squeezed against her as hard as possible, the tip of his cock grazing her deep barrier wall as he jettisoned his passion in liquid form. The power of it pushed Carol to the limits of exquisite pleasure. The profound culmination of both of their passions meeting brought a surge of heat, as if his hot semen spread throughout her body, awashing her in ecstasy. So profound in fact that nothing could be brought forth from her mouth. She had been left literally breathless, drowned in bliss. "You okay?" asked Joe at the sightless wide eyed gaze of Carol once his throbs of ejaculation ended. "I'm definitely okay," she murmured, her smile soft and gentle and yet completely expressing her state of mind; that okay was a gigantic understatement. It took a bit of sleep, to be awoken by two sets of lips reviving him, to extract his last ejaculation in the inaugural night of their threesome. Actually eyelids and his cock and the sun all rose together. Then it became Maya's turn to be ravished by Joe and by Carol, and the petite bosomy dark haired cutie also reached the highest limits of bliss from their attention. And finally they all slept. The women hadn't slept before that. They talked over Joe's chest just quiet enough not to disturb him. "I saw how uneasy you two were when meeting backstage," Carol inquired. "I guess I've been avoiding him since...our bit of a one night stand," Maya nodded. "Only I didn't want it to be." "He's good,' said Carol and the ladies laughed quietly. "To say the least. I've never been stretched like that and yet so carefully and lovingly it blew me away. I'm rather small down there, and yet hardly any pain resulted. And the pleasure overwhelmed me." "I can imagine." This time they giggled. "So why the separation? Afraid to get too close? I can relate to that." "No. I enjoy being all snuggly with a boyfriend, the more intimate and loving the better. I get distracted easily. My mind often wanders with ideas. The better the lover, the more I can lose myself to him. And Joe..." Another giggle, this not one not shared by Maya, arose from Carol's mouth as she repeated, "I can imagine. So?" "Unlike me, Joe has problems with intimacy." "I think I know what you mean," Carol replied. "He always seems aloof and...tense. Our building friendship had a wall to scale that only last night seemed to topple. Thank God." "I never saw that wall until afterwards," Maya told her new friend. "After mind blowing sex. It startled me to say the least, and I thought it represented a sort of closure, a way for him to seal up a one night stand and leave his emotions free of penetration by me. It pissed me off. I actually slapped him. I have a huge temper and he saw it in full glory." "And that was that?" asked Carol, confused. "But why then come back to him?" "The night didn't end then. At least not quite. He didn't allow me to leave. His endless body in all its naked glory stood at his door preventing my departure. The slap helped soften my anger and soon I found myself back in his arms as I sat in his lap. Then he explained his problem. He's wound up tight as a tennis racquet. He calls it burlap, this tension, and it almost sounded literal, like his viscera and his brain were literally wrapped in the stuff. He sounded kind of..." "Crazy." "Unh-hunh. It scared me." "But not quite enough to scare you completely away." "It's...his soul. I mean...his lovemaking shows it, the more physical side of it. But his words... He lent me a couple of books filled with lyrics. He's got dozens of them. Not all of them are all that great. Some are pretty clumsy or clichéd or just don't work. But plenty of them sing wonderfully only they never sang before until I put music to them. Come on. Let me show you." The naked ladies carefully extracted themselves from the bed. Joe shifted and murmured but remained asleep. Before heading to the bathroom, Carol handed Maya a transparent wrap that on her would reach just past her buttock but on Maya reached mid thigh. Carol wrapped herself in a long cotton robe. First they pissed and exchanged a whore's bath of wet hand towels on each other's sticky thighs and vaginas exciting them a little especially with soft kisses added but not enough to go further, at least not then. Carol made two glasses of ice water from a dispenser sunken into her refrigerator while Maya rummaged through Joe's shoulder bag finding the black, rough skinned blank book. "Oh my God," she said, reading the last entry.