Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, mt/ft, Fa/Fa, ft/ft, Fa/ft, Lesbian, BiSexual, Heterosexual, Group Sex, Interracial,
Desc: Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Our hero Joe, still in Paris, hears the tragic tale of the Queen of the Nile from Nick and his angels. More intrigue comes from Simon, in whose lair Lindy actually rehearses new dances with the Helen clones' music. Best to start with the first Tale to understand plot and characters.
Surprisingly, being relatively early, Nick decided to forgo the Cleopatra tale for a time, ending the narrative at the end of his and Salomé's Southern Africa experience. I think it had to do with Naomi as much as anything. Not so much to quicken Helena and my entrance into her and Natasha's bed, which she seemed to need to happen to salve some sort of depression for Tash and perhaps for herself as well, though that may have been part of it. But Naomi had suffered Simon's intrusion, his scraping of her brain, as seriously as she ever had during that blond asshole's attempt at capturing me and doing something unpleasant to me earlier in the Jewesses' chateau, and since her part in the Tales took quite a bit of energy, I think he felt she needed a break. An entire weekend in fact.
As angels and mortals collected themselves in the rich old suite in Paris after Nick's announcement, another surprise happened. "Let's grab Tash and go dancing," Naomi grinned. "You want to call your friends?" she asked me.
"I was about to call you," said Bob when I contacted him. "I'm heading to Amsterdam this evening with Michiko. She's starting her shifts in the morning, so we want some last time together. Christa will be arriving in the morning, so Mich hopes she will join us for a quick send off. Then, since Christa plans to head to Paris, Mich thinks she'll be cool with us using her flat."
"So JB and Sheila plan to go with you?" I asked.
"Not right away."
"So you two can have some time together?"
"That and Sheila's involved in Lindy's dances. She's really excited about that. She needs to find out from Lindy what kind of rehearsal will be planned next week. I guess this weekend Lindy plans on really working on the dancing, so maybe that means there might be less time to work on them during the week next week."
"But then you'll be alone in Amsterdam this weekend," I noted. "Why don't you come with Christa when she flies here? Then you and JB and Sheila can hop back there after the weekend. I know I haven't exactly been around you enough, but I will be much more available this weekend. I'll accompany you to the airport to take care of the tickets."
"That's okay. The flights are cheap and we're saving tons since we won't be paying for staying anywhere for a while. Ironically in one of the most expensive hotels in Paris. And Michiko says Christa's apartment is quite comfortable, and not far from public transportation."
"So you'll come back with Christa?"
"We need to get going."
"Take the limo."
"What about you?"
I looked at the scene in the suite. It seemed like the angels all wanted to go dancing with us. I knew a favorite disco resided just a few blocks away, and though the night was warm, it wasn't stifling. I don't think anyone would object to walking, especially through Paris streets at night. "Not a problem," I told my best friend.
We probably could have taken the limo, or two since Nick could make another easily available. Our numbers would have overfilled one. It took time for the ladies to get ready, to put on their sexiest garb and fix their faces to perfection. At least an hour and a half passed before everyone had gotten ready. The limo would have been back from Orly long before.
JB joined Nick and I in Nick's suite, conversing to pass the time. With Nick there, I ended up learning a lot more about my friend than I ever had. Though Nick allowed for tangents off of JB's words to bring himself into the conversation, with his endless life, he had an endless amount of tangents available, he inevitably led conversation back to JB. By the time the ladies had gotten ready, I felt closer to my big boned friend than I ever had.
The walk amused me. The parade of absolutely gorgeous women dressed for maximum sexiness turned everyone's heads when we passed. It surprised me no accidents happened. There couldn't have been a greater distraction. I wondered what these passers-by might have thought of me, a single male amongst all those foxes. Nick joined us, as did Vance and his gentleman friend, a rather handsome if short man of Vietnamese heritage who revealed nothing of his sexual preference. All masculine and not the least bit fey. But they tended to trail behind the rest of us, chatting in French since Vance had some fluency in the language. JB and Sheila seemed to keep a little distance as well.
Angelique and Consuela would meet us at the Disco, heading to the Jewesses' chateau to change. Eva had her sexy costume in Helena's and my suite. They seemed more joined together than ever, even walking together, hand in hand, to the disco. Though my hand hadn't been taken, both Naomi and Tash remained close to me, surrounding me, as we walked.
The two half-sister Helen clones must not have needed as much time for preparation, though both, especially Consuela, looked amazing. They met us when we entered, with Angelique making a beeline to Lindy immediately. I noticed behind them, with a far enough distance to seem discreet, a Chinese woman whose presence disturbed me. "I'll be right back," I promised Naomi, my voice loud enough to be heard over the thumping dance music. "I need to talk to Nick."
I told him where I had seen the Chinese woman. "She's in a tight red spangly dress and looks, of course, incredible," I said.
"Okay," said Nick, not looking at the woman. I threatened to point, but he pulled my arm down. "I can see her peripherally."
"You didn't see the images in my head when I encountered her at the chateau?" I asked.
"No. There's like a protective haze around them in your memory, something Simon developed eons ago. I have encountered Dagmar before of course, and a couple other of his blonde angels besides Eva."
"But he knows all your angels."
"I have not so many as he, and I'm far less interested in intrigue."
"And you had Helen."
"True," he grinned. He lost it when he added, "Not until Naomi did he have such an advantage, and you've seen how heavy handed he is with her. Chinese. Interesting."
I dared to glance once again at the woman, and noticed Betty and Salomé near her, probably unseen by her as they approached from the back. "Can you see any of the others?" Nick asked. "Please be sure."
I took my time threading through the crowd. Being a Friday night, the place was fairly packed. As an excuse, I bought Nick and myself drinks, him a beer and me a vodka and cranberry juice. When I handed the bottle off, I told him, "No."
"Interesting," he said again, adding, "Excuse me," and began heading towards the woman, though somewhat indirectly. I tried keeping things as peripheral as possible as well. She must have recognized me, but perhaps figured, as my seeing her had been barely a glance, and having heard of this face shading ability of Simon's, that she hadn't been recognized. Far better than I, Nick had kept her in his peripheral vision throughout our exchange.
Being discreet soon became unnecessary. A scuffle occurred, though I doubt anyone noticed. The Chinese woman began lifting her left arm just as Nick began passing her. His oldest angels immediately took hold of her. I could see the pain in her face and her left hand clutch her right which actually looked broken. Something glinted in Salomé's hand from a passing ray of light reflected off the mirrored facet of a disco ball. Some sort of blade. "Fuck," I murmured.
Curiosity pulled me closer, a pull greater than fear. Salomé and Betty held the woman as Nick stood over her. "I never learned Mandarin," he told her in the midst of a flood of invective Chinese curses I presumed. "Your master always made that unnecessary."
"I have no master," she responded in perfect Oxford English.
"You have two. Which one attempted to decapitate me?"
"You saw me?" she said to me, glaring. "How could you notice me?"
"My friend has unusual abilities Simon knows nothing about," Nick explained. "Even I keep discovering them. How is Master Xo (sounding like Joe)?"
"Why not ask Chanda?" the woman smirked.
Nick chuckled. "I figured she had some of Xo in her, but never worried. Should I?"
"No," the woman shook her head as it hung submissively from her lovely, lean neck.
"Not even if he takes over in our place?"
She went sort of blank, but with a soft smile. "You and Simon amuse him," she finally answered a moment later.
"As we should," Nick chuckled. "Simon figured I'd never recognize you as one of his. But then again, he could have attempted this before Joseph's encounter with you."
"I ... He felt I needed to show loyalty."
"And also to demonstrate more of Joseph's ability. Well, both things got proven, didn't they? Simon wins again. And nothing to lose. He might have missed beheading me, but still gets something."
"I'm not in danger am I?" I gulped. "I'm not really all that dangerous."
"No son, you're not. Just intriguing, literally. What is your name, my beautiful angel?"
She chuckled. "I may be the others', but I'm not yours at least. Gia," she attempted lifting her hand, still restrained by Betty. I noticed her right hand completely cured.
"Let her go, my angels," Nick said.
"Shouldn't I frisk her?" asked Salomé.
"I'm surprised she could have hidden the one blade."
"It is extremely thin," said Salomé, revealing the blade with a very thin handle, both it and the blade matching Gia's dress color, though the blade had a highly polished surface causing the gleam. "Some sort of high tech ceramic."
"Simon loves his research," Nick chuckled, watching Salomé pat down the woman. "Let her go," he told his angels. "She no longer has the luxury of surprise." They obeyed and Gia and Nick finally shook hands. "I prefer the European style greeting, don't you," he said and they exchanged cheek kisses. "You really are a remarkable looking woman," he said sotto voce, though, like all the conversations we exchanged, I had no problem hearing him. "I don't mean to be rude, just curious, but how old are you?"
"A couple millennia."
"About Chanda's age. Why am I not surprised?"
"What are you doing?" Naomi asked me, arriving out of nowhere. "Tash wants to dance."
"Sorry," I said.
"This is one of Simon's," Nick told his Jewish angel.
"Really," said Naomi. "I would never have guessed."
"Same goes for you," Gia replied. "You must be Naomi."
"I guess I must," Naomi scowled. "Come on, stud, you have two horny girls to entertain."
"Stud?" murmured Gia just loud enough to be heard and saw Nick shrug. I could swear I could feel the regal Chinese beauty staring at my backside.
As we passed through the disco, I saw my wife dancing with Eva, both looking erotically hot. Some arrogant fellow, with the nerve to attempt connection with either one of them or both, got teased by my two lovely lovers almost cruelly, especially Eva. Maybe not cruelly in that he did get his moment with women even his fantasies could not have imagined. And other lucky men, at least in their moment of dancing, had Consuela to dance with (maybe one of those might get even luckier with the slutty Spanish beauty) and the duos of Chanda and Alexandra and the Irish twins (who, amusingly, found a couple of identical twins and seemed to be enjoying them, and the male twins might also get extra lucky). Rosa danced with a man looking to be of similar heritage (perhaps another conquest).
The threesome of Lindy, Angelique and Miwa looked impenetrable. The two professional dancers seemed to be creating choreography on the spot, profoundly graceful as they moved around Angelique, seducing her and each other as if playing out their actual relationship.
Naomi and I climbed the steps to the VIP area that looked over the dance floor. She paused to chat with our driver/bodyguard, busy chatting up a French beauty. He nodded and convinced the woman to join him at the large round table the angels had commandeered. Drinks lined it, untouched and sweating. I put mine down and grabbed Tash's hand.
"About time you got here," she smirked.
"I love you too," I responded, surprising the spit out of her.
We had an amazing time dancing. As expected, Tash danced coolly, so I did too. But we ended up dancing coolly very close together. She could feel my interest in her, and I could feel her heat, and see it in the press of her nipples against her thin sheaf of a dress, black of course. Like with Lindy and company, our threesome, Naomi joining us almost right away, made no room for invasion of any other male. And like Angelique, Tash became the center of attention.
Between dances, rehydrating to the point of drunkenness (except for Tash, recently aware and surprisingly accepting, even happy, of her pregnancy, drinking Perrier mostly, as did my wife, Eva, and the Helen clones) we remained intimate, though at times Tash chatted with Vance.
During one of those moments, I asked Naomi if she knew anything about Xo.
"Another Joe," she responded, amused.
"Another Nick and Simon, actually," I said. "He's Chinese."
"Nick's pretty evasive about anyone like him," said Naomi, "but I believe he's mentioned another wanderer once or twice. I think he's even older. And a fourth one existed as well, African, probably about the same age as this Chinese one. He thinks he might have perished somehow. But even Nick's not sure. I think it's more interpretation from myths he encountered as an African himself."
Naomi shrugged. "Something like that."
"He never met any angels like you in Africa?"
"He never said. Neither has Salomé. Perhaps they became mortal or something, or killed themselves out of remorse or lack of purpose or something."
"What would happen with you?" I asked.
"If Simon died I'd dance on his fucking grave. With Nick," she shivered, "I don't know. It would be devastating. He's really the most important person in my life, bar none. I mean Helena has you, and the twins have each other, and Chanda and Alexandra as well, but for me and Betty and Salomé..."
"What about Rosa and Miwa?"
"Rosa's the most independent of all of us. Betty actually might handle it better, because she's about the same as Rosa that way. Miwa? I don't know. I guess I don't want to think about it."
"I mean, she's the most resourceful of us. She's Cat, the cat burglar. But she's also the most sensitive."
"More sensitive than you?"
"Me sensitive?" she snorts. "If I had her sensitivity, I wouldn't be here. No, I've had to have the toughest skin of any of us. Simon forced it on me, but I got to be a tough bitch early on, tough and manipulative, a real Jewish Princess. Helena's sensitive, but she's actually a distant second compared to Miwa. Just consider our art. Mine is almost purely manipulative, getting visceral reactions. Helena's poetry has a darkness to it, a depth, and yet there's a style she uses, gothic mystery I guess you'd call it, that keeps it layers away from truly exposing her soul to the world. But with Miwa..."
I nodded. "It's as if she's completely naked when she dances. Vulnerable."
"It's what keeps you riveted. You could see it with Barnaby with the pas de deux. It's what Barnaby saw in her and became infatuated with her. And she knows to tone it down when in a group or especially with Sam, who can hold you with her beauty and her movement..."
"But not her soul," I nodded.
"She'll get better because Miwa will teach her."
"She's her newest genius?"
"Sort of. She has to tread lightly."
"Mmm. And remember she has to be seen by Sam the way Barnaby sees her."
"You mean old."
"But very well preserved."
"But Sam has no problem with Barnaby being old," I pointed out.
"That's why Miwa must tread softly. She might be able to seduce the girl and maybe have a mènage á trois relationship, but then again it might be a pure mentor relationship without our usual sexual involvement. It may seem mercenary or whorish, but our use of sex actually intensifies our work as muses. The intimacy opens our geniuses up, and they benefit greatly. Being a genius is almost by definition a lonely existence, which makes our intimacies so significant and so rewarding. With Sam as a dancer and probably as a future choreographer, it would be the difference between immense talent and brilliance."
"Like with Lindy."
"Even more so, because Lindy only needed the barest of shoves to be brilliant. She already was, but now she's luminous. And having Angelique and Angelique having her, they have become each other's muses, which I find really cool."
"Even if Angelique's Simon's minion."
"Fuck that. Simon's an asshole. Only assholes become devoted to that asshole no matter how direct the lineage. No, if Angelique's devoted to anyone, it's Helen, and you know how complicated that bitch's relationship is with Simon and with Nick. Consuela's the same."
"But what about how Consuela lured me to Simon in the chateau?"
"With a bit of that will of his, Simon can be quite convincing. But even then, she could have seduced you into eating or drinking whatever Simon had concocted to put you out. Or, when he took over the tour, she could have looked a lot happier about it rather than weirdly submissive. No, Simon's never been as convincing as he thinks he is. Even with his angels."
"Exactly. And the difference between Simon and Nick..."
"Rapist as opposed to seducer."
"That's perfect, Joe," she laughed with a tinge of bitterness. "But it's really telling. It's like they approach the same problem from opposite sides. Nick prefers not to dominate his minions and angels, suggesting and requesting rather than demanding. Simon dominates. But the truth of how we and the minions respond ends up somewhere in the middle, and much more relative than Simon would want. Minions respond to orders, but only so far. If they're agreeable, no problem. Thus Simon and assholes. If they're ambivalent, our two wanderers would more than likely win them over. But if anything in their mind significantly opposes the command, they ain't going to obey. And, except for a bit of a struggle with their conscious or whatever, it won't be a big deal."
"Unlike with you and Simon."
"I don't know if Simon even realizes what he does to me. Of course, being an asshole, he'd probably figure I deserve it. He literally delves into my mind, scratching its surface to see what's within. He's not the least bit subtle. Maybe he sees my pain, and maybe that confuses him. I mean he's had Helen for Millennia even though I don't think she's ever really been exclusively his angel. I mean he can read her, and they communicate, but I bet it's murkier than with his other angels. She's more like a really well developed minion."
"You think it's two different things, the telepathy between minions and between angels?"
"But if Simon reaches into Helen's brain just like he reaches into yours, wouldn't she experience the same thing? It's the same kind of relationship, isn't it? Except for the fact that you fight it and Helen embraces it. You're probably right about the two types of telepathy, but I don't think it fits with you and her. You are angels. That's the difference. You have completely different minds. You are immortal. In just that fact, you are like Simon and Nick and unlike me and the rest of the mortal world. No Naomi, just like Nick suggested to Gia, both you and Helen have two masters. It's who you've chosen that's significant. And the way these masters deal with you reveals them as well. In Helen's case, and in a way it caused her choice as much as anything, Nick let her choose Simon. I think if he hadn't, he might have been as ruthless as that asshole has been with you. He too would have torn into her brain, demanding obedience. She'd probably have ended up switching back to Nick because of it, because she wanted him arrogant and demanding instead of soft. I bet even with Simon doing to her what he does to you, she still would have chosen Nick. He was her first love after all. They'd probably still be lovers. And knowing Helen, she might have encouraged Nick to get rid of Simon just to stop those attacks. Instead Nick used her, just as this Xo fellow uses Gia and Chanda, as reluctant, or even more significantly, unknowing spies. I don't know if Xo showed his hand, that he could subtly watch his angel while she became mistress of another traveler, and Nick used it to observe Helen and her place as Simon's angel, or Nick's seductive, caring nature kept his presence in her mind too gentle to be detected, but I suspect the latter. I suspect Simon has no clue about being subtle with an antagonist since Helen hadn't been except when she was young..."
"You're right! I remember Helen saying she felt that torturous presence early on and that ended immediately upon her acceptance of the asshole. He probably thinks the only way he can gain information or try to be persuasive to an angel not in his camp is to scrape at her brain. Until now."
"You mean Las Vegas?"
"No. Nick could have read the situation from us."
"But Nick knew before the attack."
"True, but Simon's dense enough not to get the timing."
"But he seemed to blank out Helen's mind somehow before the attack at the Jewesses'."
"Maybe he wanted to play it safe. Maybe he had an inkling."
"Or maybe he finally figured it out."
"He would only be sure through me, from my awareness of Helen as spy, something I wasn't even aware of until then. I hate that, but what can I do? He fucked with my mind maybe to find out if Nick knew of this newest attack."
"Or he thought you might be the spy."
"Possibly. I guess he doesn't know I would never enter that cruel brain. It actually worked against him. Nick had been cautious of you guys in the enemy's camp, and anything smelling of danger set off his alarm, which both my suffering and Helen's blank mind managed to do. But whatever inkling Simon may have had, he's certain now."
"Gia. Nick asked her about two masters, right? You said Chanda's like her. I bet it came into conversation that Xo knows what's happening with those two angels."
"I believe Nick might have mentioned it, or at least suggested it."
"And I bet Chanda never realized her position as spy."
"NIck and Chanda being clueless of Xo's presence, and Gia outing her so to speak, might have suggested the whole spy thing."
"I'm glad," Naomi sighed.
"Because hopefully Simon can satisfy his curiosity about Nick's doings without scratching the shit out of my brain. If he doesn't stop, I'm going to cut that fucker's head off if it's the last thing I do. He has no more excuse for putting me through hell."
"I'll help if I can, only I'm just a mere mortal."
"You're more than that. You're our stud. Grab Tash. Let's dance."
And dance we did, dancing through last call and into a gently forced departure. We performed a vertical mockup of a horizontal, bed held dance albeit with clothes on and on hard wood. Naomi became especially sexual in her rubbing against me and their locations: crotch against crotch and crotch against ass. And Tash picked up the horny vibe quickly, making it almost a contest in who could tease me best.
We wanted privacy in the worst way, and it became available. Nick's limo awaited us. Not completely private, as another extremely horny trio ended up sharing the ride. We didn't mind the voyeurs, as they were all familiar with our bodies in the most lustful of situations. As four frantic hands removed my rigid cock from its almost painful hiding place, pulling pants and underwear to my thighs to allow its release, Angelique went through a similar situation, her panties stripped completely off. Tash climbed on me, her panties tossed aside, and Naomi guided me into the needy hole of the dark haired and pale skinned thin Goth while spreading my thighs to make room for her face, spreading Tash's thighs even wider. My cock soon found itself being sunk inside warm, damp tightness. Tash clung to me, her torso pressing against mine, opening her ass up to the lips and tongue of Naomi swiping across my cock, before and after her tongue plunged fully inside my asshole, and Tash's asshole, and scraping against her perineum and cock holding pussy lips.
Even with Tash's chest pressing against mine, I managed to squeeze fingers past the clinging fabric of the dress to find the taut nipples I had only seen as sexy bumps in the fabric before. "Harder," she murmured into my ear, our faces pressed cheek to cheek as tightly as our bodies, and I pinched and twisted much harder than the careful pressure I applied at the start.
Just as I abandoned restraint with my fingers, she abandoned any careful fucking, bouncing vigorously and wildly in my lap. Somehow, through it all, I continued feeling Naomi's swiping tongue. Her fingers came into play as well, putting pressure on my balls before embedding in the space between cock and pussy lips, obviously more than just adding fullness to the fuck because she extracted them and sent them into my asshole. And an extra added moan made me figure they also impaled Tash's.
That seemed to be the final trigger for both of us. With a guttural moan, Tash crushed her pussy down on me. I could feel the buzzing vibrations of her orgasmic cunny even as I lifted up in rapid thrusts to bring the last bit of friction I needed. I didn't need much and soon went still, feeling my pulsing ejaculation and the vibrating walls surrounding my throbbing cock with exquisite detail.
Beside us, Angelique shivered and squeaked with her own orgasm as Lindy vigorously rubbed her clit against the French beauty's clit and Miwa drank up Angelique's nectar. Two threesomes matched positions.
I don't know if any of us realized we had stopped or for how long. We chuckled or giggled about that as we restored our clothing, or at least I did. It seemed discarded panties ended up crushed into small clutch purses. And the time must have been longer than we thought, because when we exited the limo, Eva and Helena had already arrived at the hotel.
Eva kissed me with unexpected desperation. I noticed her tense forehead with the subtlest of wrinkles and her eyes had a puffiness, post crying. "I have to go," she said, grabbing my hand as if wishing I could pull her into staying. When they separated, fingertips lingered for the briefest of moments in contact before they too broke. I could see a tear emerge when she glanced back at my wife and me before climbing into the Jewesses' limo.
"What's going on?" I asked Helena within a gulp.
"I'm not sure," she answered. "But I think Simon wishes to punish her."
"Like grounding her?"
Helena shrugged and a half smile barely acknowledged my attempt at humor. She turned to Naomi and Tash, holding hands. "I believe I have been invited into your bed," she said to them.
Tash's nod gave her the needed permission.
Helena and I became the featured guests in that bed. Though other hands and lips, mostly Tash's, accompanied our lovemaking, we focused on each other. It seemed to be what Tash needed to witness. My love and I had no problem with that. We could always lose ourselves in each other. It seemed like whenever I explored her, teasing her into complete readiness, I always discovered something new to love about her or to bring an extra gasp from her wondrous mouth.
Again with Tash's and Naomi's aid, though Naomi mostly kept Tash at a plateau of pleasure, I brought my wife to a state of desperation, first with the length of time it took me to reach her needy pussy, and especially her clit, with my tongue, lips and fingers. Then I continued the tease, lifting her to the edge but never letting her fall over into complete ecstasy.
When she crested as high as possible, I finally relented. The pause between mouth and cock made her mewl a cute complaint. But with one ferocious thrust, pressed high inside her pussy, she screamed her pleasure, letting people know of it even beyond the thick walls of the old hotel.
I kept still inside her, reveling in the intricate squeezes of her vibrant pussy, only beginning to fuck her with slow, intense thrusts when they began to recede.
"Can you feel me, my love," I whispered into her ear.
"Every vein," she murmured.
"What does it feel like?"
"Like your soul in the flesh fills me, keeps filling me, keep thrilling me with every filling, with every slide it makes inside me. You?"
"Like I'm welcomed and embraced. Like I'm home. It inflames my heart as much as my cock and balls. So good. So amazingly good. I never want to leave."
"I never want you to."
But of course leaving was inevitable, but not for quite a while. We built slowly towards Helena's second climax, but when it approached, she needed more. I had no problem with that. It became a hard, vigorous fuck with Helena involved in the thrusts as much as I was at least until she stiffened and shivered, letting out a much quieter exclamation than the previous one, yet I could feel the convulsions around my cock, even greater than earlier. A different sort of orgasm, but no less intense.
When I let it subside, I murmured, "Turn over," though the words hardly became necessary. Our bodies had already began the move. I hated to separate my cock from her vibrant depths. She barely noticed, still experiencing shocks of pleasure even while the climax abated.
Soon enough I impaled her again, this time doggy style. I loved grasping her tender, full ass cheeks, caressing them, marveling at their feel as well as their look, before leaning forward a bit and taking hold of her hips, perfect handles for what would follow.
Tash became a more obvious participant, moving her head beneath Helena's torso to take a breast into her mouth. The other breast received her fingers' attention while her other set of fingers strummed Helena's clit. Between Tash's thighs, Naomi worked her magic tongue while her fingers tweaked the tiny towers of dark flesh atop Tash's small breasts. Tweaking became full twists soon enough just after my wife got caught up in a third orgasm. Distraction eased back Tash's attention, especially to my wife's ultrasensitive clit. But the relentless pounding of my cock inside her negated any loss of pleasure. The climax had legs so to speak, or she experienced dips and peaks of multiple orgasms.
During a dip, I could hold out no longer or I figured I had given my wife enough or my sperm demanded release. Whatever it might have been, I felt a familiar tug of pleasure in those full gonads and had no reason to keep them from releasing millions of spermatozoa. As I pulsed, I triggered one more cum from my wife, achieving maximum satisfaction for both of us sharing the orgasmic experience.
A flaccid penis emerged from my wife's saturated pussy, whereupon I immediately collapsed onto my back. My wife shifted a few inches in order to drape herself along my side, our combined liquids leaking and cooling on my hip. We kissed softly yet deeply.
I felt a hand on my penis and heard a familiar voice. "Can you get him back up?"
Three of us chuckled as we looked at the pale and pretty face of Tash near the subject of her query as her long lean body stretched on its side. I saw a beguiling and unexpected innocence in her expression accompanied by a mischievous smile, like a virgin who knew exactly what she wanted.
Naomi slid over to her and kissed her, their bodies pressing together. "Let me work on that while you and Helena explore his body the way he explored Helena's."
"I'd like that," Tash grinned. "Though I want to help you eventually."
"Of course," Naomi grinned back, adding another kiss, her hand joining her lover's hand on my ultra-sensitive penis, thankfully just as gently.
Naomi sucked the life back to my cock while my wife and Tash went exploring. It became a balanced exploration, each mirroring the other expressing the symmetry of bodies. It felt heavenly, as if I floated on a cloud of bliss, rising ever higher in pleasure.
"Let me taste you, Natasha," I said once she finally kissed her way from my inner thigh up to my cock.
She silently agreed, shifting around and straddling my face. I felt two mouths work my genitals--shaft, knob and balls--while another set of lips enwrapped my toes and sucked.
I worked Natasha's pearl and petals to a plateau of pleasure before she lifted off my mouth and straddled my cock. Naomi guided her in. She descended slowly with a delighted hum, the only noise she made during this transition.
Grasping her soft, small handfuls of ass flesh, I felt the muscles tense as she kept my entrance slow. Once my cock filled her as much as possible, the muscles worked a little differently as she grinded our pubic mounds together. She leaned forward and we kissed. Tongue found tongue. Only then did she begin the lift and fall of fucking. My hands aided her, pulling the flesh when she lifted and pressing down when she ended her descent.
We made love, there couldn't be any other phrase to describe it. Sometimes our kiss would break and our eyes revealed the glee, especially hers, in our conjoining. Kissing kept it expressed.
Minutes later, and I have no idea how many, her need took over. The kiss ended and her body lifted and she began bouncing atop me with sudden speed and vigor. My eyes enjoyed the bounce of her small tits, but my hands decided to stop it, fingers taking hold and squeezing. "Yes," she said. "Harder."
Both my fingers and my pelvis obeyed her order, the latter with vigorous upward thrusts. They became as much a part of the fuck as her downward ones, especially when she balanced only on one hand pressed to my chest, the other strumming her clit.
A sudden pause and an undulating body and a throaty, elongated, "Fuck!" announced her climax. Even harder squeezes on her nipples and my hips continuing to make her bounce on me stretched her orgasm further. I gazed in awe at her face. Despite the contortions there, she never looked more beautiful as her cheeks reddened along with her upper chest. I quieted my thrusts and loosened the hold of my fingers, feeling the shimmering at her interior lessen, becoming occasional until ending completely. She smiled down at me, somehow looking even more radiant. And her face lowered until our lips once more met and I felt the heat in them and the softness. Again when she lifted her lips from mine, our eyes met.
"Thank you," she murmured.
"My pleasure," I grinned.
She giggled, a sound as girlish as I had ever heard from her, and the muscular action it created added a momentary thrill around my still hard cock.
She didn't realize its state until after another lovely kiss. I think she expected me to slip out flaccid. When she lifted her hips and kept lifting, surprise became apparent on her pretty face, and maybe a little disappointment. "You're still hard," she said.
"I've cum twice," I explained.
"Want some?" she asked Naomi. Only then did I realize the two angels had been voyeurs throughout the wonderful fuck. They lay on either side of us.
My wife moved closer and kissed me. "That was quite beautiful," she said. After another kiss, she added, "You did good, stud."
I chuckled, "You'll never cease to amaze me, my love."
"I hope not," she grinned. I moaned during the next kiss. A new pussy had swallowed up my cock.
As much as I made love to Tash, and vice versa, Naomi fucked me. And yet I saw the fondness in her eyes for me, and I think I returned the sentiment. We never kissed. As she rode me harder than her lover ever had, our gaze only ended when she shifted her body and pulled my head so I could suckle and chew on her nipples, one after the other. She came, and the heat and the vibrancy of her angel cunt nearly pulled the cum right out of me.
It didn't though, and it allowed her to get on all fours, making it clear she wanted some doggy style action. I of course obliged, giving her as good as she'd given me, with her ass assisting, and in fact guiding the pace. "Tell me when you're ready to pop," she muttered.
"Almost there," I told her.
"Spread open for him, Natasha," she commanded.
I looked to my side and nearly came. Not only had Natasha obeyed, but my wife, in much the same positon as Naomi, her wondrous ass lifted high, pressed her mouth against the appreciative Goth's cunt.
"God, I don't know if I can hold on," I admitted.
"Concentrate on making me cum," Naomi advised.
Balancing on my knees, my fingers got busy strumming her clit and pulling her dangling teats toward the bed while continuing to fuck the shit out of her. She stopped thrusting back, which may have helped, but when her trembles inside matched her trembling body I had to pull out. "Fuck her," Naomi muttered breathlessly, her fingers taking over for mine.
Like some sort of acrobatic moment, I hopped over my wife as she rolled under me. Barely a second later, despite a slight palsy from need, I managed to guide my glans to Tash's wet and ready hole, sinking my cock all the way in.
"Yes," Tash muttered. "Fill me, Joseph. Fill me full of your cum."
Only three vigorous strokes later I did. "Yes," the pretty Goth woman murmured. "I can feel you pulse and I can feel your hot cum."
"Ung," I could only reply. It almost hurt, the intensity of my ejaculation. But more, it felt incredible. And it took everything out of me, not just the sperm and semen. I actually passed out atop the lean, black haired woman.
I awoke seeing her grin. She kissed me tenderly. "Maybe you should roll off," she suggested, struggling a little for breath.
"Sorry," I said as I rolled onto my back, my eyes keeping contact with hers.
"Don't be," she replied, settling onto her side smoothing back my sweat dampened hair. "I liked feeling your big body on me, but unfortunately I need to breathe."
We chuckled. She kissed me. It felt really really nice. "Uh-oh," I thought, "Unlike Helen's figurative quadruplets, I may need to be really cloned."
Naomi broke our spell. She slid behind Tash and pulled her onto her back, kissing her tenderly. "You two should probably go," she said.
"You don't want us to cuddle?" my wife asked.
"Another time. You two need some time together. I know Christa will be here tomorrow."
"True," said my wife, kissing her sister angel and Tash. I kissed them too. We dressed and left, watching the two women kiss and cuddle lovingly before exiting.
Hand in hand, we headed to the old elevator and up to our suite.
"It seems you have a new member of your harem," said my wife.
I knew she didn't need to hear my objection to the word. To me, harem meant an unequal relationship between owner and slaves, and since my lovers could never be anything close to enslaved by me, I considered the unequal relationship the only real similarity, except exactly opposite to one in a harem. My women, my lovers, were in all respects my betters.
I could only nod. An apology would be empty. My wife accepted it. In fact she embraced it for some reason. "Spreading the joy," she once called it.
"Naomi's right," she finally said, ending the silence. The elevator had jolted to a stop, always an uncomfortable feeling, so I waited for the door to open and for us to enter the hallway.
"What do you mean?" I asked her.
"We need to find time to ourselves."
"Definitely," I said, unlocking the door the old fashioned way, with a brass key.
Inside and secure, we listened for anyone occupying our second bedroom. Silence told us it remained empty.
I followed her into the bathroom, both of us stripping along the way. She sat and pissed and I waited my turn. "How?" I asked her.
"Perhaps saving a night just for us."
"Two nights?" I negotiated.
She grinned and nodded, caressing my flaccid, sticky penis. "Unfortunately, we have Christa."
"She could visit her friends in Amsterdam," I suggested, "Before you two go off together to the Upper Midwest."
"That's a really good idea," she said, wiping and getting up to allow me to piss. "How much do you hate me leaving you?" She turned on the faucet to the shower.
"We haven't had a day apart since we met, I don't think."
After a moment she nodded. "I think you're right. Are you okay with that?"
I stepped into the shower with her. She cleaned me first. "I'm more than alright," I replied. "I've never been happier. Never felt luckier. Every day I look at you and have to pinch myself. Every day I'm happy because you're there beside me. What about you?"
"I feel exactly the same."
"You mean why do I want to be with you every day of our lives?"
"Aside from the fact that I am completely and totally in love with you?"
"Yes. I mean considering the fact that you're the most incredible woman I've ever met, that your beauty surpasses even your angel sisters, because it's deeper than theirs, more true, more soulful with maybe Rosa a distant second, and you are the sexiest as well, and I am as normal as it comes as a human, neither all that handsome nor all that brilliant with perhaps my ability as a stud, a human bull if you will, the only thing I can think of that makes me extraordinary, it just seems you have the choice of any man in the world, and you chose me."
"As far as being the most beautiful," she replied, "I think you're biased. And I guess I'm biased too, because I find you the most handsome, and in much the same way. Your depth. And your sexiness, well, at least you agree with me on that. You're the studliest of studs. But of course, just like your beauty, it's much deeper than that. I mean, tonight's just one of many examples. Your warmth and loving nature just enwraps women, makes them love you in a way they have never loved anyone before. The studliness just adds to your attraction. Just like they say you get a man through his stomach, a woman becomes yours via her pussy. You make her cum the way you always do, and they're yours. But of course you need to follow that up by being a mensch, which, my lovely man, you definitely are."
I had taken over cleaning duties while she continued, "Which brings me to the point I wanted to get to. I don't know if I want to go off with Christa. I mean I like her, and I think it would interesting to meet her soul mate, but is it worth it not being with you? I know there will be times when we need to separate, but why separate unless we have to? I definitely don't need to go off with her. But I did promise her I would, and she looked like she'd love it. So I'm going to make a deal with her. Because if she doesn't agree, I think she's being selfish, like she wants me all to herself, which of course is ridiculous. If, by the time she's ready to head to the States to meet her lover, she hasn't found it in herself to love you the way you deserve to be loved, and not some convenient penis or even likable as a friend, I won't go."
"But isn't she essentially a lesbian with a need for the occasional cock?" I pointed out.
"So what? So she hasn't the ability to be completely comfortable with a male. Even with her new lovers, I imagine it's more friends with benefits than anything else. She has to see beyond the cock to the man, the mensch, open herself to your warm and loving nature, accept it, bathe in it, or the only thing I can conclude is she's a selfish and needy bitch who uses me as much as she uses you, for my attractiveness and my skills more than anything else. Maybe she found Eva's incomparable beauty and sexiness too shallow. Maybe she prefers me not because of love, but because, just as you said, my beauty and sexiness has more depth to it, which, of course, knowing Eva, is complete bullshit."
I don't know if I agreed with her assessment of Eva in comparison to her. Sure, Eva had a complexity to her that I found compelling if not amazing, and it definitely contributed to my enjoyment of her, which ended up leading to a far deeper love than I would have imagined. But even if both Helena and I had seen past her classic, albeit overwhelming, California beach bunny blonde persona almost immediately, her beauty could never compete in terms of depth and thus resonance to my gorgeous wife. Or could it?
"What?" asked Helena.
"Just realizing how right you are. You decide if you want to have that little adventure with Christa. I have a feeling, and I have to admit it's a pleasant one, that you may just forgo it."
"Yeah, but you know what? I'd like it if she fell in love with you. I think it would be good for her. I think it would help her keep her two new companions, and she'd get much more out of that relationship. If it happens, if she loves you, I still don't have to go."
"Maybe, if it happens, she won't let you."
We laughed at the irony.
"But I'll still leave it to you," I added. "It might mean a deeper friendship between all of us."
She shrugged as she rinsed. Her soft, wet body looking especially appealing to me, I pulled her into a deep hug and kiss. Somehow feeling her luscious warm and damp skin against mine felt just as appealing if not more.
We both needed more contact. We dried quickly and headed to bed at a sprint. She fell back on the bed and spread herself open for me. I pulled my legs along her sides and lifted her into my lap. She guided me in. We embraced and kissed as I plunged deep all at once. She helped me shift her to the edge of the bed so my legs could more comfortably drape, my feet touching the floor. And we rocked, causing just enough friction.
"You thought about Eva," she finally ended our silence.
"Mmm. You're right she has incredible depth."
"I know. I hope she's alright."
"Me too. I'm sure Simon won't punish her too severely. She's his daughter and she carries his grandchild."
"True, but with Simon does any of that matter?"
"I think, even with Simon, it does."
"I hope you're right," my wife murmured. "Joe?"
"You know those two nights alone?"
"She can join us."
My wife sniffled, "If he'll let her."
"Of course he will. She's his spy."
My wife chuckled and sniffled. "True. Do you care?"
"Me neither. Fuck them," meaning her father and Simon, the eternal wanderers.
"I'd rather fuck you," I said.
"Then please do."
High emotions transformed into need. For some reason I lifted her to the floor to fuck her missionary style, rug burn be damned. When she came intensely she knew I had a ways to go. "Fuck my tits, Joe," she said. "I think you're wet enough."
She knew I loved it, and it had been awhile. I grabbed her wondrous boobies, somehow keeping my thumbs busy rubbing her taut nipples while plowing the furrow my hands created pulling them together. When things got a little dry I leaned forward at her insistence and she coated my cock with spit. Her sucking got me closer, so a couple minutes later, after several fast thrusts, I erupted with what little cum I had left and decorated her with a pearl necklace, although some of it had to drip from her chin.
I used a damp towel we had dragged with us into the bedroom with unknown forethought to clean the mess I made before I helped lift her to her feet. Pulling away the covers we had neglected earlier, we toppled onto the bed, embraced, kissed and slept.