Chapter 8

My wives and I left the Tales together. We had cum together twice during the Tales. It had been languid sex. It continued to be languid, more intimately in the privacy of our bedroom on our extra-large bed. Love became intensely communicated.

Too few times at that time my wives and I shared our loves for each other, our love times four with no other for a night. My fault mostly, having love for many others, lesser perhaps, but needing to be expressed, perhaps more for the other woman or women than me, but never entirely one-sided. And angels had been added to our foursome, or especially in my absence. Miwa, Nick’s Japanese angel always in the latter instances, and Xo’s Japanese angel, Yoshie, in the former, with the ever regal Salomé enjoying both situations.

But that night just the four of us rediscovered our profound intimacy and devoted love. After my second cum, inside Zhenzhen’s pussy, she sniffled. She had ridden me and lay her head against my shoulder when our orgasms subsided.

“What is it, Cutie?” I asked her.

“I just missed this so much.”

“I know,” I said. “What can we do?”

“I shouldn’t have Salomé come to bed with us so often,” Shira suggested.

Helena laughed. “So it’s all your fault because my elegant sister angel can’t get enough of you?”

“No but ... You really think she’s that fond of me?” Shira perked up.

“You think you’re pulling her into our bed. But believe me, she’s stronger than all of us put together. If she wished to be anywhere else, she would be. You’re her genius, Shira, and she doesn’t choose lightly.”

“Really?” Shira smiled beautifully.

“Yep.”

“We all know who’s to blame,” Eva muttered. Her accusatory voice had a sexy playfulness to it only she could master. “Our man and his wondering cock.”

“What can we do about it?” asked Zhenzhen, a mischievous and adorable smile emerging.

“Removal sounds a bit too much, not to mention counter-productive,” said Helena.

“Ouch,” I said.

“Perhaps grabbing him before he wanders and tying him to the bed,” Eva suggested. “You do have that bag of tools you used on Seraphine, don’t you Joe?”

“Actually Gia has them, since she likes playing with her prey before eating them alive,” I said.

“And if we asked to borrow them,” Eva considered, “she’d probably want to join in.”

“I could steal them,” Zhenzhen suggested.

“And if caught?” Helena argued.

“We could save her,” Shira decided.

“Fun,” said Eva, and the ladies giggled.

Zhenzhen lifted up and slid down me, kissing my damp and flaccid penis along the way. “Where are you going, Cutie?” I asked her.

“I have my assignment,” she tittered, walking naked to the door.

“No clothes?” I reminded her.

“What for?”

It was late. Probably everyone but angels and eternal wanderers slept. Apartments had been rented to outsiders in the five story former dormitory. Well-appointed and reasonable, most had gone quickly. Seeing a naked and gorgeous Chinese nymph padding around would not be an unpleasant sight for anyone, so I shrugged. “What if the door’s locked?” I queried.

“Why would it be locked?” Zhenzhen said. “We only locked ours tonight because we wanted just us tonight.”

“True,” I chuckled, and watched her cute butt disappear.

My two other angel wives, giggling, followed a couple minutes later. “You two sleep,” Helena suggested. “Unlike us, you need your sleep.”

“True,” Shira yawned. “Lindy will expect us way too early as usual.”

Alone, Shira and I snuggled and kissed. It excited us, but tiredness won out.

I dreamed of being restrained and dampness at my cock thrilled me. Seraphine getting some kind of revenge. I awoke to the truth of it, except an exquisite Chinese woman replaced my slave.

“Chen,” I muttered, pulling on my restrained wrists and ankles.

“Ssh,” she smiled down on me, her pussy surrounding my cock in tight and lively wet heat. Leaning down, she pulled my head up so my mouth could attach to her perfect tits. I felt a tongue and fingers at my shaft, balls and anus. Hands helped me play with her nipples. Beside me, smiling tiredly, lay a curled up Shira, one leg lifted, her hands busy masturbating and tugging at her nipples. On the other side of me lay Gia. She pulled my lips from a tit and brought her lips there. Her hand caressed my nipples before moving down to my shaft. A thumb stroked Chen’s clit.

Chen’s ride quickened until she came. She lifted off and changed places with Gia. “God, I needed your cock,” said Gia, who proved her need by riding me hard for only a couple minute before achieving an intense orgasm. Though her convulsive pussy nearly lured my cum from my balls, it didn’t succeed. She pulled off, kissed me and thanked me, and the two former assassins slipped stealthily and sexily out of the room.

Eva took over riding me, slowly and with deep affection. Between kisses I noticed Shira sleeping looking content, obviously her orgasm successful and soporific. The slow fuck kept us from jostling her. And when things changed, when Eva’s eyes went wide and I felt the pressure of a second phallus inside her, and Zhenzhen taking over kissing me and caressing me and rubbing Eva’s clit made me realize Helena had brought double penetration into play, I managed to arch up into Eva’s downward movement to keep the jostling to a minimum. Even Eva’s deep moan of climactic satisfaction, and my grunt from similar cause, we kept quiet enough not to disturb my lovely mocha skin wife.

“Please,” I murmured after. Quietly giggling, my angel wives released me from restraint, each kissing and caressing where I had been bound.

I awoke seemingly soon after, from a short lived, sexual dream, but dawn lighting the window told me the truth. Another dream had become real, wonderfully matching. Shira’s mouth on me in my dream became her mouth on me in reality.

“Good, you’re awake,” she smiled and climbed up and guided me in.

I turned us around so I could do the stroking. We kissed, ignoring morning-breath or simply accepting it as part of our loving. We got kisses from our wives surrounding us and a gentle reminder from Helena that we didn’t have much time. She and Eva added to our pleasure, her working our lower half. I felt a finger entering my asshole, and wide eyes and a wordless moan suggested a finger or two had entered Shira’s as well. Eva worked nipples with mouth and fingers, and I could feel her finger rubbing Shira’s clit.

“Gods,” Shira moaned, arcing upwards against my thrusts. I relaxed any resistance, and, after a few rapid strokes, I pressed deep and became still, letting her throbbing interior milk me of my sexual essence. “Mmm,” she approved of my throbbing and the resulting ejaculate. “Love you,” she murmured and pulled me back to kissing after she needed separation to gasp at her orgasmic peak.

A spanked butt cheek and a giggle, and its author informed us, “Eva and I will shower first. We’ll make it quick, and you should too, unless you wish to suffer Lindy’s wrath.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Shira and I managed to say simultaneously and we chuckled. The result of it, with my penis still half hard inside her pussy, caused muscles to twitch, giving us one last thrill.

Heading to breakfast, my wives recommenced seeking a solution to the problem of not enough nights with just us together. Even the night before had been broken up by playfulness, bringing Chen and Gia into our bed.

“But that was so fun,” said Zhenzhen. “And did it really interrupt our loving each other? In a way it aided it, because it was a collaboration of wives.”

“True,” said Helena contemplatively. “Did you enjoy being tied up, Joe?”

“To tell you the truth,” I admitted, “not really. I prefer touching and embracing too much. But if you have fun with it, I guess I won’t mind.”

My wives communicated silently, the result being shakes of their heads. “No,” Eva spoke for them. “It might be something you experience again, but not with us. Probably with Chen and Gia, and I have a feeling they’ll make it intense enough for you to enjoy. Perhaps it’s a masculine thing, or a dominance thing which you seemed to have accepted and embraced to give pleasure to Seraphine and Angelique.”

“Your two French girls,” Zhenzhen noticed.

“Well, De Sade was French,” Shira pointed out.

“But Sacher-Masoch was German,” said Helena.

“Austrian, actually,” said Eva. “Never mind.”

We chuckled at our nerd, the least likely looking one in the universe. Most men would judge her to be a blonde bimbo. One glance at her intelligent eyes belied that, but most if not all heterosexual men only wished to get a chance to gaze at those eyes in hope of connection, and not of the spiritual or especially the intellectual kind. Luckily and amazingly, she withheld all three connections, at least in total, and especially the physical, to only one man. Me.

“Maybe it’s their infamous arrogance,” I surmised, “being countered.”

“True of Seraphine,” Helena said, “but not of Angelique.”

“She’s the sweetest of all of us,” Zhenzhen agreed.

“And the most submissive,” Eva added.

“Except when let loose in bed,” I smirked.

For some reason that got me smacks on my shoulder, my two angels’ almost painful.

“What?” I asked, rubbing Helena’s smack. Hers tended to be closest to pain.

We had continued our discussion through the cafeteria line and settling with our scrambled eggs and sausages at a table. Nodding at my several friends and lovers there, I barely noticed every one kept away. When I fully realized it, it made me smile. “Real friends,” I thought. They knew we needed this time for ourselves in our unique and odd and strong bond of four. Which reminded me of our intent, for some reason continuously distracted by tangents.

After a swallow of juice, coffee and eggs, and another swallow of juice, I cleared my throat. “So, are we going to solve my wayward cock, or are we going to forever go on tangents.”

Zhenzhen giggled. “I may have started the conversation, but I also created the first distraction.”

“Well,” Helena shrugged, “Tying him down seems to be counterproductive.”

“It’s not just him being absent,” Shira reminded us. “I have been bringing Salomé pretty often.”

“I don’t think anyone would complain about that,” said Helena.

“Still.”

“I have been known to visit Miwa when you’re absent, Joe,” said Eva, “or bring her to our bed.”

“When did that develop?” I asked.

“Dancing together so much, we’ve gotten close. I enjoy her tight little body, and I think she enjoys my softer one. Plus she has her toys.”

“A definite advantage,” I chuckled. “But what about Barnaby and Samantha?”

“She visits them occasionally. They appreciate her as an added tonic to their lovemaking, but consider her a distraction to their devotion to each other.”

“Does that disappoint her?”

“I think so. Perhaps I am her distraction from that disappointment.”

“I can’t imagine a more pleasant distraction,” said Helena.

“Thanks sweetie,” Eva smiled and gave her wife a little kiss. “But of course you’re biased.”

“I doubt anyone would disagree,” said Zhenzhen, gaining her own kiss from the succulent blonde.

We all laughed when Eva said, “True.”

“So,” said Helena, “do we kick our visitors out of bed, and insist Joe join us by the end of the night?”

Zhenzhen shook her head. “I don’t think that’s necessary. Aside from being rude, I think if it was just the four of us most nights that would be enough.”

“At least every other night,” Shira suggested.

“That should work,” Helena nodded. “And we should make it clear to whomever we add to as lovers, that it must end early, being a night meant for just us.”

“I think there may be exceptions,” Eva pointed out. “Especially, but not exclusively for Joe. He is the one most approached by a needy woman or women. But if it were Miwa needing comforting, or Naomi and her craving for watching Helena and Joe perform their soulmate lovemaking, or whoever, we should be sensitive to it.”

“Then we promise two full nights together to make up for it,” said Zhenzhen.

“And I don’t think two full nights together should be an exception,” Shira added.

We nodded in agreement.

I watched Shira’s eyes light up. “Let’s go on a vacation together. Like a long weekend. When Nick’s current Tale ends. And before Lindy gets hardcore with rehearsal, which I’m sure she will insist when the evenings become free.”

“New York,” Helena smiled. “We could book a penthouse suite on Central Park South.”

“The Plaza,” I grinned. “I’ve been lucky to have some of dad’s family living in Long Island, or, last time I visited, using my rich uncle’s Manhattan apartment. All have retired to Florida or moved off to other cities, so I would probably have had to stay in some cheap hotel with shared bathroom. I’ve had friends tell me about those. They didn’t exactly complain, and neither would I, but a suite at the Plaza...” I chuckled.

“Maybe not there, but something equally nice,” said Helena. “You just have to convince Lindy.”

“I’m sure Lindy won’t mind the convincing,” Eva smirked. “And especially not Angelique. Nor will you, Joe.”

“Nope,” I shrugged. My ever deepening friendship with Lindy made for deeper lovemaking. But Angelique brought a higher level to it. Both excitement with her tigress ways, and, admittedly, love. Aside from my wives, I loved her most, and it was a tiny notch lower.

I must have inadvertently been gazing at her during my recollections of our lovemaking, because I watched her slink up to me before sitting in my lap. “How could I possibly distract you from these lovely ladies,” she purred.

“Ask your wardeness if I can claim my slave tonight,” I murmured back.

“Yes Warden,” she practically squeaked and gave me a long and appropriately French kiss before slinking away.

“Not a burden then,” Eva chuckled.

“Nope,” I shrugged.

So it came as no surprise, when Nick began his Tales that evening, I had a beautiful, petite French Helen clone in my lap and my best friend leaning against us.

“We arrived at the large Siberian village along with the first great blizzard of winter, intending to stay through the months of darkness, frigid winds and snowstorms, and leave in spring. Trading brought us a place to stay at its edge, as did the mortal viciousness of the climate. A widow, not long before, had lost her husband and children to it, except for an infant who barely clung to life. Saving the female baby did more than any shiny metal or jewels to gain us shelter.

“And similarly, more than shiny things gained strangers acceptance in the village. Chanda and my resilience and ours and the donkey minder’s skills at hunting added more meat than usual to these people’s larders. We shared our largess perhaps more evenly than usual, assuring the oldest, the youngest and the lame got their fill. I sensed, like culling the weak from the herd, that those who seemed the least useful tended to end up with the least food. A model of natural selection. Only the strongest were allowed to survive.”

Arriving late to their new home after distributing the meat from their second successful hunt, the widow greets them with uncertainty.

“I have heard what you are doing,” she says to Nick. “It may seem nice, letting the weak get more rather than less, but I think it will make it harder for us in the end.”

“With less mouths to feed, more food for the rest, for those who can sustain you.”

“Yes. It is practical and not cruel. Perhaps you have helped make things more plentiful. But what happens when you leave?”

“But I’m not leaving. At least not during these lean times.”

“But you will leave eventually.”

“But only when the weather eases and more food can be captured or harvested.”

“But the winter always comes. And when it does, you will no longer be here.”

“And what if we stay? Would you want me to stay?”

The widow laughs. “Of course I want you to stay. No one fucks me like you do. Certainly not my poor dead husband. I had no idea it could feel so good. None at all. And the other widows, I’m sure they would agree, even if I wished you wouldn’t fuck them.”

“I never thought you were jealous.”

“Jealous? You had to teach me that word. You had to create it.”

“I know. So...”

“It’s like the meat, Nick. More mouths.”

“Of course,” Nick sighs. “Then we will stay. I can make things better for your people. I can stay until you can feed those mouths from the things I can make happen to improve your lot. It will take time. That makes you happy?”

“I have a great fondness for you. Especially you Nick, but your friends as well.”

“Even my young companions?”

“Who do you think keeps me warm when you go hunting?”

“Like Chanda when I am with one of them at night instead of you.”

“Exactly like Chanda. Who do you think taught me how women can pleasure each other? Women with women and men with men. And yes I have seen Kim’s boyfriends when she and Matta snuggle with me. Matta seems to enjoy me most, and I enjoy her.”

“Would you like her to join us?”

“I would. But Nick, what can you do about our growing population? About survivors who would not have survived before? About babies who would never even have existed.”

“Besides bringing more food to the table? Perhaps a unity of widows and their offspring. Including the least fortunate, the orphans who have no one protecting them really, who get nothing but scraps. The old and the feeble can help. Tell stories. Become teachers. Help look after the young.”

“You mean like one building? It would have to be bigger than the house of our chief and his harem. He already has misgivings about your presence here.”

“True,” Nick sighs.

“He fears your power, Nick,” Kim chimes in. She has shifted to sit beside him, just as Matta has shifted to the widow’s side.

“Then I will have to be suppliant. To be seen begging for his ear rather than making changes without his approval. An advisor eventually, letting him take credit for my ideas.”

Kim nods, “Feeding his ego rather than threatening it. That should work. Let him come up with the orphanage idea, or better yet one of his wives, the most maternal of them, since it would be a female’s concern. A weakness for a male in this society becoming concerned about such things as children and widows.”

“It would have been less complicated in a matriarchal society like Matta’s,” Nick agrees.

“What is this orphanage?” the widow asks.

Kim, who has demonstrated great skill in learning the language of these people through Matta’s efforts, has used a Chinese word for it. She explains “In my society, children who have lost both parents have a place they can be raised together with people looking after their welfare. This would be different of course, since the unfortunate includes widows and the weak.”

“Not necessarily,” says Chanda, sitting amongst the men, except Nick of course. “We could build an orphanage, not needing it to house all those we wish to help, but including a place for them to meet, to be fed, and for the children to be together to play and to be taught.”

“A rooming hall for orphans and the adults minding them, with a large, multi-purpose room at its center,” Nick smiles. “Shouldn’t compete with the chief’s little palace. Which means we will stay here for a few years.”

“Why?” mutters Kim.

Expecting her objection, Nick stifles his chuckle. He deliberately asks Matta, knowing the answer, “Any problems?”

“Of course not, Nick. These are my people.” Matta looks fondly at the widow who returns the sentiment.

“Chanda?”

“You know I won’t mind. Stop teasing Kim.”

“The reason I need to stay is that I need to see that this plan succeeds in serving my children’s needs, including your children, Kim. Our child, and perhaps another afterwards sired by one of your boyfriends. I want to make sure all my children grow up here, in their own environs, strong in body and in mind. Those that come from you cannot travel with us until they have matured enough to be safe.”

“Travel?” Kim perks up.

“Of course. I guess I haven’t explained my ways. I thought Chanda might have.”

“Nope. Never came up,” Chanda responds.

“You’ve heard me call myself an eternal wanderer.”

“Yes?”

“It’s because I am eternally wandering.”

“Okay.”

“Which means,” Nick smirks, “that I’m continually journeying, planting seeds and trying to improve people’s lot. Most of the time, though, I establish a base, a sort of home. Believe me, constant travelers need a home of some sort. A place of familiar faces and loving embraces.”

“Like a soldier returning home from a long campaign.”

“Exactly. A joyous return to the family he loves. To his most comfortable bed. To a village who looks at him as a friendly neighbor rather than a suspicious stranger.”

“So you plan to journey out and return here.”

“After the weather becomes hospitable. But why wait?”

“If you went alone, the weather wouldn’t stop you.”

“It would be uncomfortable, yes, and I may go on solo excursions to such places as the fur camp or an independent village such as Matta’s. But I plan going west on much longer excursions, to meet some of my descendants, eventually encountering people of a much fairer race, where I believe I will change skin to look like them.”

“And eventually relocate there.”

“Yes. Eventually.”

“But these longer trips ... you need to wait for it to be safe ... for the rest of us.”

“For you, my love, and for your boyfriends, if they want.”

“We do,” both young men chimed in.

“And Chanda?” Kim asks.

“I will stay here,” Chanda answers. “Until Nick changes skin. Perhaps I will go off whoring. Perhaps find a local genius to inspire. But this will be my home far more than it will be Nick’s.”

“And when Nick changes?”

“I will protect him during that vulnerable moment, and then it depends on the timing. Either I will stay with you at our new home, or help you on your journey back to your true home.”

“And you don’t mind staying here?”

“Unlike you, I happen to like the uncivilized as you see them. It’s more exciting than a place of culture and entitlement. More challenging as are the men. Just look at my favorite companion.”

“Hey, I resemble that remark,” the donkey minder jokes. “So, am I to stay with you or go with Nick?”

“With Nick,” Chanda essentially commands. “But don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll have a companion. I’ve seen you chatting up that pretty widow.”

“How could you not, since you translated for us?”

“True.” They share a laugh. “But you’ll have to communicate without me.”

“We’ll find a way.”

“I’m certain of that, stud.”

The two pair up for the night, as do the two young men. Their lover joins Matta and Nick with the widow. She, with Nick spooning behind her, lies beside his other companion, watching her make love to the widow. Matta’s gentle kisses and caresses arouse the older woman. Lips moving from lips to ear, neck and nipple, remaining there while fingers stroke the other nipple and a hand slips between the woman’s thighs, penetrating her pussy and stroking her clit, seem to continue the soft and slow efforts. Despite this languid pace, the widow’s moans deepen. Her hips shift, seeming to steer her lover’s caresses inside her. Climbing to the peak, an inevitable climax, somehow never gets quite reached.

The voyeurs become inspired. Nick’s deliberate caresses on Kim’s gorgeous, sexy body helps. She reaches past his hand fingering her cunt to find his cock more than ready for entrance. She guides it in and moans her success. Like their observed subjects, they keep it slow. And also like them, his strokes and his fingers fondling her nipples, despite the gentleness and pace, bring her unexpectedly to the edge of ecstasy. Not just missing him fucking her, his cock and digits find the perfect ways to thrill her. Just as Matta’s digits and mouth have done for the widow.

Things change when Matta’s mouth moves south, kissing a path to the widow’s pussy. Once claimed, the widow arches and moans, and yet doesn’t completely succumb. And Nick follows the dramatic shift in pleasuring, adding neck kisses and clit strumming to his more rapid thrusts. The edge seems to have been raised, because, though the pleasure intensifies, she too hasn’t cum.

“Please,” she hears the woman moan. The word echoes Kim’s thought.

“Please what?” Matta teases the widow, by question and lack of mouth contact, though fingers continue sawing high inside her.

“Let me cum?”

After a mischievous lap of tongue across clit, Matta asks, “Are you sure?”

“Please!”

“Okay,” Matta giggles, and suckles the woman’s clit, bringing a coup de tête.

“Yes!” the woman gasps, her body atremble.

Not coincidentally, but simultaneously, several quick thrusts, a vigorous clit rub and a squeeze and twist of a nipple bring forth Kim’s orgasm, Nick burying deep within it to add his throbbing cock and its hot ejaculations to her thrill.

Amidst both their orgasms, the widow pulls Kim’s mouth to hers and kisses her. “I want to taste him in you,” the older woman requests.

“Okay, after he stops cumming,” Kim manages to say within a moan. Somehow the two giggle, as does Matta, who shifts her attention to Nick’s cock, still half hard when it emerges from Kim’s sodden pussy.

“Ooh,” Kim moans almost immediately after straddling the widow’s face and lowering her pussy to the woman’s mouth. “You’re getting good at this.”

The woman’s probable thanks get muffled, causing another moan from Kim due to the vibration. Noticing this, the woman hums between swallows of the sexual mix. That and the woman’s tongue bring Kim closer to a second climax.

Meanwhile, Nick pulls Matta into a sixty-nine. Her success at getting him hard becomes ignored when his skilled mouth brings forth a quick yet intense orgasm. Rolling her onto her back, he swiftly climbs between her thighs and guides his glans to her still quivering cunt, shoving slowly all the way in, enjoying the orgasmic caresses surrounding his cock. His thrusts becoming hard and fast, his fingers practically crushing her nipples and his mouth kissing her aggressively, everything overwhelmingly intense. A new orgasm arises from the old, starting dips and rises, orgasm after orgasm, each one greater than the last, until a final one swamps her consciousness, his hot, deep spurts the catalyst for la petite mort.

A not quite flaccid penis becomes hard between two sets of lips. The widow and Kim share the effort, while crushing clits together. “Is it my turn?” the widow smiles.

“Best for last,” Nick smiles back. Climbing between thighs, the space vacated by Kim, his companion steers him to the widow’s needy cunt.

“Yes,” the widow exhales, feeling him penetrate her at last. She pulls him into a kiss.

Another kiss lingers beside them, though not nearly as long, demanded by a newly awake Matta. Upon its end, Kim shifts behind her fellow companion, spooning her and gently caressing her as they watch the long and amazing fuck. They can’t guess how many orgasms the widow probably achieves, and unlike Matta’s, they have a distance of time between them. Like hers though, they do seem to strengthen. The two can’t help achieving sympathetic orgasms, much smaller than the ones they observe, but very nice. Each stroke the others’ pussy to help, Matta reaching behind her to find Kim’s. Like holding hands, an intimacy gets added by fingers atop fingers almost but not quite guiding the clitoral strokes.

After the companions’ first orgasm, Matta leans back to kiss her friend. After the second, Kim murmurs, “I love you,” and Matta returns the sentiment. A few moments later, they both drift to sleep with fingers atop fingers still pressed into pussies. This despite the frenetic intensity of the fuck in front of them.

With the widow’s legs lifted to frame her chest, and Nick carefully gnawing a nipple while twisting the other, he pounds into her relentlessly. Even her orgasmic keen doesn’t wake them, probably to do with her tightened larynx, accompanying the rest of her body, keeping it to a squeak. An extra shiver, feeling his balls release their seed, gets accompanied by a quiet groaning comment, “At last.”

“Too much?” Nick chuckles.

“No. Perfect,” she smiles loosely and weakly guides his mouth to hers.

The next morning, a familiar face enters the hut. The young man’s gaze at the two young beauties nestling with the widow amuses Nick. “You still desire them,” Nick says.

“Sorry,” the leader of the fur trapper’s son mutters.

“No. It’s understandable. They are beautiful. But I thought those whores, particularly one of them, would have tapped that lust of yours that helped cause the loss of your friends.”

“It has. But a young man’s penis is a gauge for sexiness. Any female gives rise to it, but the sexier, especially if beauty accompanies it, the greater the rise.”