Chapter 14: Charity and Chastity

John

To say the FHM shoot had been a hit was the understatement of the century. The issue sold like hot cakes and the media were buzzing with art critics falling all over themselves about how these paintings were the greatest shit they had ever seen and who that heretofore unheard of artist Seamus Carrington was. When ESPN had gotten wind of the fact that both Lydia and Meri were to start at a charity run, wearing body paintings instead of running gear, news came round that the charity run for “Breast Cancer Action” at the end of the week was about to be broadcast on tape delay. The charity fund was in for a load of donations they hadn’t dreamed of.

The real cracker came when I got a letter from St. Petersburg – the one in Russia, not the one in Florida. Nadeshda Fedorova’s management contacted me if there was a way for their client to take part in this charity run. Apparently she had lost her own mother to the illness.

I was rather apprehensive about that. The last athlete who had stepped into the lives of Mark and Lydia had caused more upheaval than one could cope with, even as a friend, and although Fedorova had supported Lydia in her protest run in Utrecht, I wasn’t quite sure how the Russian would react to meeting these two fire-crackers.

Of course, Mark and Lydia being who they were, had taken things in their own hands. Lydia still spoke the odd bit of Russian as it had been the mandatory foreign language in schools in East Germany, and Fedorova’s coach was an old friend from her home town, so in the end I was informed that the Russian would arrive on Wednesday and stay at their home till Saturday.

If only there was a way to smuggle Rhonda in there. I didn’t have a good feeling about this.

Lydia

Of course John was nervous about this, and for a good reason, but Mark had laid down the law on me. There was not to be any naked prancing around nor any nookie while our guest was around, and although he would paint on all of us, he would only do so if we took the same medication we had taken during the FHM shoot. How he would deal with his own predictable arousal, was to be left to him.

Meri had also insisted that she would meet us no sooner than the morning of the run, insisting that by already being included in our trips to Germany and Spain she was coming close to overstaying her welcome.

However, this being the day before my Russian rival arrived, the old home rules were still intact which meant I was lying naked on the deck chair, trying to catch some autumn sun. At least there were no tan lines to deal with. After two weeks on St. Kitts & Nevis there had hardly been any left, and what little there were had melted away in the hot sun of Fuerteventura during the FHM shoot.

Unfortunately my darling lover was holed up in his room again and wouldn’t notice. He was finalizing the designs for our body paintings. He had created track suit designs that he would paint on us, incorporating the charity logo and support slogans to paint on our bare midriffs.

But before I could start to overthink things again, about why he wasn’t here or what he was up to, I reminded myself how he had made slow, luxurious love to me over the last two days, something I had almost forgotten over the last weeks of wild experimentation. Of course, me being me, I had come up a storm more than once. He certainly hadn’t forgotten which buttons to push, even without any crazy ideas or wild rides. The only thing bothering me was that he had come up a bit short as far as climaxes were concerned.

Mark

Granted, I had come down a bit on the miserly side as far as nutting was concerned when I had taken my gorgeous lover slowly, gently and repeatedly over the last two days, but that deficit was mainly down to the fact that she was so orgasmic once she was warmed up that I simply couldn’t keep up. There were days when I thought I might have to sedate her.

Well, biological limits played a role in that too of course. While it was not unusual for mom, or Meri for that matter, to climax two or three times in short succession, for me that was simply impossible. Once I had shot my load – that was it for the next hour or so. Of course mom had managed to keep me hard on occasion, and I wouldn’t be out of commission immediately, but the idea that a guy can keep on going for hours is for the birds, or more precisely for badly made porn flicks.

Which was why I knew my dear mother and lover was almost certainly racking her brain over the obvious imbalance. That were the problems one had to live with when being in love with someone whose whole life was defined by competition. As much as she liked to win, mom was also not best pleased if she was too far ahead. That’s why I had decided to put John’s and Rhonda’s theory to the test, the one that said I had to be a bit more demanding myself.

Of course nothing was ever easy in Mark-land, so I was debating the potential pros and cons of my own idea endlessly in my mind, but in the end my curiosity and the building arousal won out and I shoved off my shorts, walking out towards the pool naked and with a semi-erect member on display. For added effect of uncouth bloke-ishness I took a big swig straight out of the beer bottle while doing so. That prompted an inquisitive look from the naked goddess on the deck chair.

Without as much as a fair warning or question I wordlessly fed my cock to her mouth, and while she looked at me wide-eyed in surprise mom eagerly started to suck on it with aplomb. She sat up for better access and her head bobbed up and down my length eagerly while she gently massaged my balls.

Did I mention that she was an absolute master at blowjobs by now, despite the fact we hadn’t even been having sex for an entire year yet? Granted, we had tried some crazy-ass shit in those few months, but I definitely loved the back-to-basics approach we had been taking the last few days.

Alas, the fun was short-lived and her excellent technique soon caused a discharge of substantial proportions, which made her cough slightly before she looked up to me in a mix of surprise and triumph.

“What the hell was that, honey?” she asked.

“Well, it was me fancying a blowjob, feeding you my cock, and then you’ve cut the fun short because you’re too damn good at it,” I reported and I was rewarded by one of her blindingly beautiful smiles.

“And that means you can now stop worrying about the fact that you came more often than I did,” I completed my assessment of the situation.

Mom chuckled. “You know me a bit too well.”

“I’m your husband-to-be, albeit sometime in the not-so-near future,” I replied dryly and sat down next to her.

Lydia

“We’ve overdone it with the kinky stuff, haven’t we?” I asked.

He nodded. “Unless I’ve missed something you should have ticked most of the boxes by now, and quite frankly, right now I’m quite comfortable with the bit more sedate variety. I’m more interested in making love to you, rather than fucking the raw stuffing out of you.”

“I’m sorry, honey, I got carried away.”

“We all got carried away,” he said. “You went overboard with all your kinky ideas and I shouldn’t have gone along with all of them. I’m not exactly free of blame in this.”

“You did it for me, and I’m very grateful for it.”

He shook his head and took a swig of his beer. “Don’t make me saintlier than I am. There was a good deal of selfishness involved. As long as I went along with it, it opened the prospect of having Meri and Rhonda too. It sounded like the perfect arrangement. If I wanted someone with big boobs I could take Meri. Except that I nearly forgot how much I adore your boobs. I finally got that when I got hard twice while painting your rack, but not when I painted Meri’s.”

“And where does Rhonda fit in it?” I asked.

He actually blushed. “Well, when you cooked up that idea of John taking your ass, I got someone fascinated with the idea of boning someone who could take it without me having to be on guard all the time.”

I smiled. “I have some news for you, honey. If you thought that you could just shoved it into Rhonda’s rear-end it’s a good thing you didn’t try. And as for constantly having to be careful. Mark, you are big, but you are not freakishly big. Every man has to be careful no matter his size. You just need to be a bit more patient with the foreplay.”

“John told me pretty much the same,” he admitted. “But then, you weren’t very patient with the foreplay yourself back in Magdeburg.”

“And I paid dearly for it,” I said with a chuckle. “Next time we’ll take a bit more time, okay?”

“So that wasn’t just one of your crazy ideas?” he asked.

“What, that I like it through the backdoor? No,” I said and smiled at him. “Frankly, I didn’t quite like the dp as much as I had thought, so I guess we can scratch the gangbang off my list of crazy ideas. But I’m quite partial to anal sex. Don’t ask me why. I don’t know.”

He grinned at me, and perhaps a bit too greedily.

“Before you get any ideas, buster. Not before the charity run. The last thing I need is walking funny again.”

“Don’t worry, mom. We’ll practice four days of chastity, but when we’re alone again, you’ll end up on your back, repeatedly.”

With that statement he walked off and left me in a lurch.

Mark

We were standing in the arrival hall of San Francisco International, waiting for our Russian guest to arrive. We had decided to meet her together to gauge her reaction to me. Should she give any indication that she knew who I was, we had decided that I was to sleep in a hotel. Theoretically she should be agnostic to my identity as she hadn’t been in the Vienna race, the only time when mom and I had been seen as mother and son, and we didn’t think that the Russian media had picked up the post-Olympic upheaval about Melissa Kennuck’s attack on her and Meri.

“Does she speak English?” I asked mom.

“Only very badly,” she said. “But she speaks quite a decent German. Certainly better than what little Russian I remember from school.”

“I guess due to her trainer being German?”

“That too,” mom answered. “But Nadja learned it in school as well.”

“I would have thought Russians would like to learn any language but German. With the war and all.”

“You were to young to know,” mom explained. “But back in the day the GDR was practically paradise compared to the Soviet Union. They all hoped to get there one day. German was quite popular as a foreign language. And these days they want to get to Germany even more.”