Marriage is, of course, a ceremony and institution of compromise. The best thing being, naturally, to get all the compromising out of the way well before the ceremony occurs to become the institution. The circumstances vary from couple to couple--that goes without saying. Some guys have to give up their Friday night out-with-the-buddies bowling league. Or shift it to a Tuesday. Me, I had to forswear pussy-eating for the rest of my natural born life.
The first few times Ariel and I got all-limbs-akimbo intimate, I of course found my face parked between her thighs. What would the world be without lovely wet cunts to lick? A fucking desert, I tell you. The outlawing of dessert.
These instances, Ariel had the expected earthquakes, but when I'd draw myself up afterwards to madly kiss her face I'd find her weeping. Her tears were not of ecstasy, and I could never get anything out of her except that she had some sort of secret.
Well, what was I going to do about it? Pry? Because of course married people never kept secrets from one another: load of horseshit, that one. There are just some things that are better kept secret. Like, say you sucked off a dog for a dare and a dollar in the third grade. As if the lovely wife needs to know about that one!
I didn't even try to fathom Ariel's secret. I mean, it didn't make sense. Even if say a nasty old uncle had given her a good pussy-licking when she was a girl, what's to cry about? I mean geez--supposing some nasty old uncle had given me a headjob as a kid--I mean close your eyes and enjoy, boy. A warm mouth sucking on your hard cock, there's only one end to that road, and the tears to that are magnificent joy.
Though maybe he licked her raw and she never got over the edge. That'd be something to cry about.
But she didn't have an uncle. Even her dad had died when she was an infant.
All she had that I knew about was a mother and her older sister Sylvia, who still lived, independently, back home for her.
Ariel and I met in college on the east coast. I was a native, trying to supplement my income by taking courses. She was in from the hinterlands on a scholarship. We hit it off like gangbusters. I wooed her into being my wife even though she didn't want her pussy licked.
Because, man, Ariel had a way of holding me inside her while swiveling her hips such that I could answer only yes to any request she might have. That's how we wound up owning a dog I didn't want. A dog with an identity crisis--it seemed to think it was a human leg, judging by its procreative tendencies.
The few post-graduate years we lived in the city, I knew Ariel was somehow unhappy, and I never made a discouraging noise when she felt obliged to fly down and see her family every few months. I didn't go, and I never presumed to tell her no. Soon after we returned from her mother's funeral Ariel began expressing displeasure at living in the city. And when she finally began making noises about being home-sick, there was no question of divorce. Though I really didn't want to leave the city, there was no way I wouldn't follow her bouncing ass, no matter where it might lead me.
We moved to her hometown so that Ariel could be close to sister. How could I help but not cheer when I discovered that for less than we'd been renting, we could pay mortgage on an older frame box of a house. Four small rooms and a kitchen and a bath, plus a half-story upstairs that was finished enough for a guest room. I was happy to see Ariel so happy. And happy myself that though the house had enormous potential, it existed well enough as it was that we could just sit back and enjoy owning it without having to commit to any immediate major work.
And it was extremely pleasant to suddenly be spending so much time with Sylvia. They came from the same stock. I found myself hanging out in rooms with _two_ intelligent, interesting, and beautiful women. A pair of them. Though they were obviously related in the faces, Sylvia--the big sister--was a good four or five inches shorter than Ariel. They shared the same straight, thick auburn hair, though Ariel wore hers shorter, hanging just to her shoulders. Ariel had bigger breasts while Sylvia had the more shapely ass.
Not that that suggested either was deplete or excessive in either department. Nor that such qualifications of womanly shapes entered into my thoughts. I was just sitting at a kitchen table, laughing my head off at the conversation the two of them kept maintaining, entertaining idle fantasies about the both of them, separately _and_ together. Most of such speculation was of course like a Civil War re-enactor approaching a show: no chance that I'd ever really get to participate in the Battle of Bull Run.
We hadn't been there but six months before Sylvia's apartment complex seemed to go into a nose-dive. She stayed with us a few days while the whole place was hosed down for rats and roaches. Her visit went fine, though it did emphasize that the house was built, on an intimate scale, for a family of two. The dog... at least if it got too randy you could always banish it to the fenced-in back yard.
It was barely three weeks later that Sylvia was back at our door, after the requisite phone call. A gas leak had emptied her building at least overnight.
I found it funny to watch. The two of them instantly mobilized. It was as though they were girls again, getting to stay up late because something quirky had happened to close the schools for the following day.
But I was restless that night for reasons I couldn't discover. Ariel and Sylvia filled the evening microwaving popcorn and watching some movies on t.v. They kept trying to entice me to join them, patting the space on the sofa between them; instead I just sort of roamed the house. The dog kept following me like a shadow of worry, colliding into my shins at every turn, with each step I took happily maneuvering one or the other of my legs between its hindquarters. Finally I had to trick him into going out in the back yard.
The rest of the night was no better. With Ariel fast asleep beside me I lay tossing and turning in the dark, the red digits of the bedside clock taunting me with the ever-growing lateness of the hour. The cause wasn't helped by the creaking of the floorboards above as Sylvia, the original nighthawk, puttered around overhead. The groan of the steps as she came down to the kitchen then went back up; as she came down to use the bathroom then went back up; as she came down for whatever other reasons and kept going back up. Eventually I couldn't even keep track of whether she was upstairs or down.
Finally I tried thinking of pleasant thoughts to help me slip into sleep. But in the otherwise quiet dark the sounds of Sylvia's nocturnal wanderings kept being the point of reference. Sylvia: what she might be wearing, what she would look like wearing nothing at all; what it would be like to be graced by Sylvia wearing nothing at all. Good lord! I idly began fantasizing about being the boy-next-door watching those two sisters growing up. Talk about a wet-dream every night of the week!
By that point the fabric of my boxers was straining to hold in a monstrous erection. The damn thing was quivering and lurching; every shift of the cloth across the head left me whimpering. No chance of sleep in this state. The immediate association was naturally to wonder what Sylvia would do as she nestled into her bed. Would a shy hand slip a sly finger down between her thighs?
This was nonsense, of course. Upstairs or down, all Sylvia would be thinking of was how in the morning she'd be able to get back into her apartment and resume her real life. Not that my cock was persuaded.
I was distracted then by Ariel. She shifted in her sleep and her breath began coming in ragged little bursts, punctuated by sighs and throaty little mewlings. She shunted a leg over; the press of her bare thigh against mine nearly made me jump out of my shorts.
Very cautiously I rolled over onto my side, facing Ariel. My movement incited more from her, her leg pressing ever firmer against me. The pressure though was now fully on my erection. I let my hand come to rest innocently on her upper thigh. Quickly, though, and not so innocently, it began to creep upwards. I ascertained almost immediately that her nightgown had ridden up to her waist. And then my fingers found the decided dampness to her mons. Some rather sweet dream going on! I traced a finger along the line of her labia. Ariel gave a groan to shake the rafters and her legs flared fully wide. Her cunt blossomed beneath my touch, and with just the slightest touch my finger pushed inside. Jesus but she was juicy! I moved my thoroughly wet finger a little upwards, finding her little bud stiff with excitement. Just the one touch and her hips jumped as if from a jolt of current. I retreated for a moment, not wanting to wake her. If I disturbed her too much she might brush my hand aside and roll over away from me. And it suddenly seemed certain in my mind that if I could just help Ariel's erotic interlude end in a dreamy orgasm, well, that would be so arousing I'd probably just shoot off in my shorts. And then, maybe then, I could finally get some rest.
But I'd just started stroking her again when her hand seized my wrist and lifted it away. So much for _that_ remedy, I thought, but then to my utter surprise Ariel pulled my arm across her instead of pushing it away. She let go, her hand coming to grab my shoulder, rolling me between her legs.
Fully engorged, the top of my cock was already poking up past the waistband. With this further maneuvering, my boxers slid down past my ass. Ariel grabbed my bare ass and pulled my crotch against hers. No further assistance was needed. Effortlessly my cock slid happily home. Her cunt felt like warm butter; Ariel whimpered loudly as I filled her to the hilt. And then we were fucking like teenagers. Or rather with the lustiness and abandon of teenagers, but the control of more experienced years. Or at least _I_ had some control. The sensations had me panting and laughing and crying, and I wanted it to last well beyond one quick spurt. Ariel, however, was completely at the mercy of her passion. She seemed to launch into another orgasm at every other breath. Her every other breath, indeed, was sucked away by screams of pleasure. While always a very active bedmate, Ariel was rarely this loud. It was as though without the restraints of full consciousness she was free to be as vocal as a cat. Having Ariel writhing and crying and begging and bucking beneath me had me as excited as a man can possibly get. By the time I felt my balls begin to brim over, we were banging the headboard against the wall. We exploded together, shrieking, shattering the stillness of the house.
We lay there like that in the glow for a few minutes. Ariel was back fast asleep even before I pulled out and rolled off her.
And then, half an hour later, I was still left lying there in the dark wide-awake. Even Sylvia seemed to have settled in for the night. Finally I decided to hitch up my boxers and slip out to the livingroom. It was probably too late for anything but fuzz and bad cable on the t.v., but the library book I was reading was out on the coffee table. Curling up on the sofa under an afghan and reading for an hour might do the trick.
As I walked down the hall, I decided to send the next electric bill to Sylvia--in all her up-and-downs, she'd apparently left some lights on in the livingroom.
I swung through the doorway and stopped dead in my tracks. Sylvia hadn't left the lights on. They were still on for her. Because she was up, watching t.v. with the sound off. Sylvia was dressed for bed, though, wearing a worn flannel shirt and a pair of sheer black panties. The shirt, though was completely unbuttoned, breasts as lovely as Ariel's on full display. She was wearing the panties only in the most technical sense--the wisp of them dangled, impatiently snagged at her ankle. With a hand busy between her legs, all her lovely secrets were revealed.
"Hi, Nathan. You couldn't sleep either?" she remarked with an amazing nonchalance considering that I'd caught her masturbating. Not only did she not try to disguise this fact, she didn't even stop. She gave a breathtaking smile as her fingers continued playing with her pussy. "So I thought I'd come down here and watch the tube. The only thing worth watching was this soft-core thing on the nasty channel. Hardly need the sound on for those things," she nodded at the t.v., "and then... hardly needed the sound on with you and Ariel screwing away like banshees." She looked down at her crotch. "I got so aroused, I guess I just couldn't help myself."
I nodded in mute agreement. Given the sight before my eyes, there was nothing I wanted more than to help myself. I continued standing there, one big stare.
"Oh, come on, don't look so shocked. This is perfectly natural, even dogs do it."
My eyes went even wider.
"You know it's true... " she started.
"Well," I began, "we could tell by the hairs that he was getting up on the sofa when we weren't around to shoo him off. But otherwise, really! I had no idea. _That_ explains the smell. Why, filthy dog! Watching dirty movies in the middle of the night and playing with his pussy. I thought the vet had taken care of all that. Not that it's had any effect on his _raison d'être_."
Sylvia let an indulgent smile play on her lips. "I wonder what other talents that tongue of yours has?" She removed the hand from her buttery folds and held a glistening finger up to her face, demonstrating the reach of hers. "Mmm, delicious," she fixed her eyes on mine. "Care for a taste?"
The suggestion destroyed any chance that I might turn and walk away. Would the man who's been subsisting on tap water care for a drink of juice? The luscious fruity nectar of the goddesses? My tongue was already dripping as I stepped forward.
"Oh my goodness," Sylvia gave a giggle, "looks like you're already in the mood for more."
I glanced down, nearly mortified by the way the tenting in my shorts telegraphed my desire.
"Oh no," she took in the look on my face, "I think it's cute. No _won_der Ariel is always so happy."
I moved down upon her to draw attention away from my erection. Coming again really wasn't my major priority. I averted my gaze from between her legs. That pussy wasn't going anywhere; I wanted to prolong the anticipation. I fell instead with all my devotions to the splendors of her breasts. Palpitating the soft flesh, moving my mouth on to the hard bud of one nipple until I felt it stiffen under my tongue, then moving over to the other one. Once I'd settled into that rhythm, I began dipping my fingers down into her streaming cleft, returning to smear her nipples with cunt sauce. This technique was the pussy-eating surrogate I'd developed over the years with Ariel--at least I could get a taste of her. And my enthusiasm was always well-revered.
"Oh my gosh!" Sylvia gasped, "you sure know how to make a tit feel _appreciated_."
I had a wonderful mouthful of it at the moment, so I couldn't really make much of a reply other than to suck all the more rapaciously.
From there, still massaging her breasts, I began to make my descent, kissing and licking slowly down the abdominal dip to the lovely rounded flesh of her tummy. I daubed her bellybutton with pussy juice, then licked that crinkled little orifice clean. Her entire midsection was heaving.
"Jesus, Nathan, be careful. You're going to make me come before you get to the good parts."
No I wasn't. Or if I did, that would hardly delay my arrival. I was going wild just thinking of it, thinking of how close I was getting to it, thinking how soon I would be getting it. God, I thought I was going to shoot in my shorts just as my chin began brushing through the beginnings of her pubic curls.
And then I was there, a very aroused cunt right in my face. I was heady from the full blast of Sylvia's scent. Her pussy was dripping with juices; I gingerly extended my tongue, getting my first direct taste in ages.
Then I dove right in. Man, oh fucking man! My tongue swirling that tangy sauce all around. The touch of that lovely soft flesh, so moist and pliant. The little nub of her pleasure, stubby but swelling under my tongue. The soft spray on my face as she squealed over the edge yet again. Never in my life had I felt so _proud_.
I got to my feet, awkwardly, enjoying the sight of Sylvia spread out below me. It was hard to say which of us was shakier in the knees. But Sylvia managed to get to hers, drawing herself up to give me a long, deep, wet kiss, her tongue swirling around my lips and delving deep into my mouth. As our passions centered for the moment in our mouths, her hands were busy running up and down my sides, her fingers eventually hooking on the waistband of my boxers.
There was the expected hang up on my erection, but like all good soldiers do, I sprang away free.
My still sticky cock was gripped hard in her hands.
Then Sylvia sank back down on her haunches, putting her face right at the excited level of my cock. She planted big plum-lip kisses all around the plum-head of my cock. Her tongue snaked all the way out then dragged back in along the underside of my shaft. "Mmm," she growled, staring up at me, "freshly-fucked cock."
That established, she opened wide and swallowed me whole, taking me deep into her throat, stopping only when her lips bussed against my pubic hair. Up and down she traveled, her tongue madly swirling all around me. Sylvia certainly knew how to attend to a cock with her mouth. She had me squeaky clean--if dripping wet--and fit to burst before she relented and allowed my cock to come up for air.
The livingroom was filled with the sounds of people gasping. A huge chorus that was just the two of us. With a silly wave of my hands I shoved at Sylvia's shoulders. I did it again and again while she just batted back at me.
"Quit resisting," I hissed, slapping back at her hands, "I'm supposed to be trying to... " Pausing to mock my voice sultry low, I announced, "I'm going to push you down on the couch and fuck you now, okay?"
Sylvia lay back and shifted herself around, splaying her legs wide as she centered her bottom on the cushions. "_Okay?_" she swiveled her hips. "Try, _about time!_"
The couch was a little short for sleep, but at least it was wide enough for sex. Neither of us spilled off as I mounted the couch and lowered myself into the full-body of her waiting embrace.
Our eyes were piercing, daggers stabbing dueling as the wash of pleasure swept over us. The head of my cock slipped successfully between Sylvia's slick lips, finding the tunnel to her heaven. For the longest time we just lay there like that, with me slowly filling then shifting inside her. Her cunt really was as wet as my cock was hard. The sensations as I began to slide in and out staggered us both. The couch was a bed like a box of kittens mewing. Our sexes raged in full compatibility, urging us out of our dreamy torpor. At some point I thought to make a complete drive, giving Sylvia a proper fucking.
But when I made my first full stab, she was immediately bucking back at me like a horny pony.
"Better watch it, Nathan--this is a pussy out-of-control."
Having already come once within the hour, I felt as if I could last forever. But I wasn't going to take any chances. I had the advantage of being on top, of having all the leverage. I slammed her bottom down on the cushions and pinned her there, giving mighty thrusts without letting my cock leave her cunt even an inch. I shifted slightly upwards, and then I knew I had her good.
Sylvia gave a gasp and her eyes sprung wide. Sure enough, my pelvic bone was grinding directly against her clit, while I was buried as deeply inside her as possible. "Oh, good go-o-o-d!" she groaned, the whole couch shuddering with the orgasmic vibrations off her.
All her limbs faltered, and she went totally limp. A sad sigh escaped her lips, an echo of the slurpy sound her cunt lips made as I pulled my shiny cock all the way out. But as she felt my hands on her hips, indicating she should roll over, Sylvia gave a happy sigh, mustering the energy to cooperate. She giggled as she plumped her butt up in the air, bowing her thighs to better present her coral flower. "I have noticed how much you like to stare at my ass--do you like the way it looks like this?"
Her arms slunk beneath her, and then her hands were between her legs, her fingers spreading her labia and revealing her secrets completely. I was up on my knees behind her in a New York second. Gripping myself tightly, I pushed the head of my cock between her plush lips, sinking myself ever further into her pussy.
Just the thought of running my hands up and down the sexy plateau of her back, from the spread of her shoulders to the flare of her hips, leaning down over her to nibble at the nape of her neck while my hands slunk down to hold and cup and squeeze her hanging breasts. Then straightening up, palming the sides of her ass, to watch as my cock proudly plunged into her equally proud pussy.
Just the thought, and then I was living it, Sylvia low in the groans as I pumped her for all I was worth.
Sylvia had her head mashed down on the couch. She was practically eating a throw pillow to stifle her cries. I was gnawing the insides of my cheeks to keep myself quiet. But as she built towards yet another orgasm, I decided to let go, blow full throttle and join her.
Sylvia's sounds drowned mine as she slapped her clenching cunt back upon me, clasping all I had to give her. There on the little land of my own couch I felt like a master of the universe, driving deeply into her mysteries, my balls contracting as I pumped her full of my magic seed.
We maintained the position as our orgasms subsided. A giggle of joy sounded deep in her chest, and then Sylvia started pivoting her hips, kissing my softening cock with little squeezes of her cunt. Eventually she lowered her ass, drawing herself off me as she turned and rolled over, reaching up and pulling me down to join her in a laughing tangle of sexual satisfaction.
Sylvia kissed me lightly, gently, while her thigh rubbed up and down mine. "Thank you so much, Nathan. I think I'll be able to sleep now. Though," she started hunching my leg, "I do wish I could take you to bed with me. Just in case I get a craving for a big fat middle-of-the-night snack."
I was sorry to have to leave and go back to my own bed, thinking that otherwise she'd be getting that snack a lot sooner than she thought.
Up exercising so late in the night, I slept well through the morning, waking, finally, just before ten.
I lay in bed listening to the sounds of Sylvia leaving.
When I finally stood up, it was with that heavy feeling of utter satiation. And of course a bit of anger with myself for having acquired a secret I could never reveal.
I did a quick whore-bath standing at the bathroom sink, then went to have coffee with Ariel, who still hadn't gotten dressed for the day. She kept making odd comments until finally she just threw me down on the kitchen floor, grabbed out my cock and hiked her nightgown, and started riding me like mad. "Just wanted to thank you for last night," she grunted as she plummeted.
A few weeks later a bit of wind ripped the shingles off a part of Sylvia's building. The rains, though sporadic, were insistent. Lumpy men beating hammers were due to arrive, so she ditched over to our house.
The three of us were big John Waters fans, his latest film had just been released on video, and that was the plan for the evening. Ariel pulled on her coat to run down to the rental store. I tried desperately to get to go along, but Ariel was playfully adamant in refusing the company. "No no no, you guys just stay here and relax. I'll only be gone a minute. You know how much you hate the cold. Besides, if we leave Sylvia alone in the house, she'll just pocket all my good jewelry."
Sylvia barked out a laugh. "Don't worry about that, Ariel. I snatched the family jewels my last visit."
My ears were still burning when Ariel shut the front door behind her. I immediately thought of spending the small time until she returned touring the house and evading Sylvia. The dog was thoughtfully already out in the yard. That seemed the sensible thing to do, but before I could rise from the sofa she came swaying across the room towards me.
"Hi, Nathan. Remember me? Because _boy_ do I sure remember you." She flicked her tongue against her upper teeth, giving an extra kick to her hips as she neared. "My partner-in-crime... filling my snatch with the family jewels."
Oh no, this was going the wrong way. Or the right way for the wrong way. I made a move to get up, but by then Sylvia was standing right in front of me. She straddled my legs, then shuffled her knees onto the sofa, sitting in my lap so that we were face-to-face.
"Fancy meeting you here again. You come on this couch often?"
Oh sweet Jesus!
Sylvia was glowing as her fingers began unbuttoning her blouse. When she finished, she parted the fabric and offered up her twin treasures. "If I remember correctly, you particularly enjoy playing with these." She leaned forward, feeding me first one breast then the other.