Chapter 4: Sunday Morning

I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naive or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman.

Anais Nin

Joan

In the wee hours, my alarm woke me. My lovely partners slept through it. I slipped out, although I did visit the facilities. Going into the main room, I knocked at another bedroom door.

“Come in.”

Opening the door, Elizabeth stood to meet me. I exchanged smiles, and then a hug, with the wisest woman whom I know. That extended to a kiss, with a brief touching of tongues. “Let me make some tea, dear.”

She bustled outside. I hoped Hal would sleep deeply, and would assume that I might be in the bathroom for quite a while.

“Elizabeth, I think we’ve got a keeper in Hal. He’s a talented first-time lover, but, perhaps more important, he independently became skilled in some of our psychology. I suspect he’s as competent at telempathy as I am, and I get him as most sincere.

“Would you believe he did an empathy dance with Gerri?”

“Amazing and wonderful! I’ll plan to welcome him in the morning. Right now, I suspect the bonding and insight you can get from sleeping with him is paramount.

“I’m glad, though, that you took the time to tell me. It gives me time to think about the morning.

She turned to the corner couch, dimly lit. “Angus, please take care of setting up brunch. I myself will want a Marriott Burger.

“Joan, I think you are needed in bed.”

Hal

I blinked awake, and then became aware of lovely presences against me. Not surprisingly, I was rock-hard, my cock nicely pillowed between the cheeks of Gerri’s ass.

Gerri opened her eyes, giggled, rolled on to her back, and put her feet behind her ears. “Miss Joan, may Mr. Hal try me?”

“Yes, I think so. Perhaps you will start by being his pre-breakfast appetizer? Hal, you might like to start tasting her in that position, but for your mutual comfort, then have her sit on your face.”

Gerri made a pretty pout. “No spanking before the oral sex?”

“No, dear. We don’t know how Hal feels about spanking, and now isn’t the time.”

I swiveled, needing no instruction to position myself between Gerri’s legs, taking a deep breath to enjoy her natural fragrance. As had been suggested, I licked, more for a taste than anything else. I didn’t feel that I was under pressure to give her ecstasy, which I certainly planned to do at some point.

She definitely seemed to like my attention, skilled or not. I grasped her hips and pulled her over my face. A slightly distant voice directed, “Gerri, rub yourself against him. Let him feel your heat while he breathes you in, and tastes you.” I felt Joan lightly stroke my penis, just enough to be friendly, rather than overstimulating.

“Now, Gerri, I think you should be his second fuck. Hal, you’ll find she is very flexible. Start vaginally with her, but if you like, finish her anally. Later, you and I will do it again, although we might have more playmates for you.”

“Gerri, I think we’d enjoy seeing you, this morning, as a French maid.” She excused herself briefly, retrieved her uniform, and slipped into it. “Hal, stay in your robe for now.”

“Oui, Madame.”

Far faster than I suspected that she could, Joan dressed, and then slipped into the bathroom to finish her makeup. This morning, she was more casual but perhaps hotter than on the street, in a black denim micro with lots of silvery snaps and trim. Above, she had a thin, stretchy, turtleneck, which bared her taut arms. Below, she wore some sort of suntanned hose, and high-heeled black pumps.

“Gerri, please get us a tray with some juice, coffee, and rolls...”

I raised a hand. “This is New York. It would be sacrilegious not to have bagels.”

“Of course, add bagels.”

She soon brought us what usually is called a Continental breakfast. That term always confuses me. European, or Western European, certainly. But if we were in Antarctica, it should consist of raw fish bedded on seaweed, served by clumsy tuxedoed waiters.

····

After eating, Gerri cleared things away, and then arranged herself on the bed, having first removed the outer parts of the French maid outfit. Wearing nothing but a large smile, fishnets, and heels, she asked Joan to prepare me.

Gerri, quite gracefully and deliberately, raised her legs until she tucked her heels behind her ears. I was impressed. As I watched, I felt Joan opening my robe. Yes, she started to use hands and mouth on me, but Gerri already had me erect.

“Hal, have fun. No one expects you to have a lot of endurance yet, especially in what will be an athletic position. Just slide up to Gerri and let me guide you into her.” Gerri moaned happily as I smoothly, steadily, plunged into her. I felt her legs drop once I was inside, giving me a delightful spice of her stilettoes against my back.o

Joan reached around to stimulate her clit. Gerri felt wonderful, but subtly different than did Joan. I put myself in the women’s hands. After some undetermined time, Joan grasped the base of my penis. “Gerri and I cleaned her completely before you awakened. She is fully lubricated. I am going to put your tip at her anus. Just stay in contact. You’ll feel her opening to you.” And so, I did.

“Press forward, not too suddenly. I will guide you.” Gerri made happy sounds. I felt something different than the vagina of either woman, more concentrated for want of a better term. While I wasn’t going to spend a lot of time categorizing it, I vaguely thought the vaginal was a more total experience, letting me have more of an experience of the entire woman.

I’m glad that no one expected me to last, as, quite quickly, I was pumping semen into her. Gerri threw her arms and legs around me, and then relaxed. “Roll away, Hal. It’s OK.” Joan shifted after me and licked Gerri’s anus. The two then snuggled against me, as we kissed.

“Hal,” Joan spoke quietly, “I love the way you are completely accepting, if that’s the word. You have no demands of women that you don’t have for yourself.”

····

“Joan, have you ever meditated on archetypes?”

“I think so, although we need to refine that we have the same definitions.”

“Another point. Do you ever guide your dreams? I mean, before you fall asleep, do you visualize some aspect of the dream you want, and then get insight from the dream?”

“I’ve heard of that, Hal, but I’ve never personally tried it. It does remind me of readings in shamanism, or in humanistic psychology.”

“Bear with me, then. You’re something of a sexual archetype for me.”

“I think I’m very deeply flattered. Please go on. With someone who is less of a scholar, I’d simply take that as a complement, but I think you’re going somewhere with this.”

I nodded. “I’m wondering if my visualizing you as an archetype might improve our rapport.”

“Hm. Yes. I might need a guide. If you’re concentrating on rapport with me, you can’t do it. Perhaps, however, Elizabeth or Barbie could.

“In the meantime, Hal, I’m going to give you some imagery. Does this fit the archetype?

“Would you enjoy taking me to a swing club, dressed as provocatively as possible, of course? Flirting, then maybe a few individuals with you participating or at least watching, then my pulling a train?” She touched my tented trousers. “Well, you clearly like the image.:

“Dear, I happen to be delighted to hear you exploring things as joyfully nasty as possible. As far as the archetypes, I remember reading an interview with a porn actress. Both the interviewer and the star were thoughtful. When the interviewer suggested that the actress was ‘Our Lady of the Lake’, a term that I’d never heard in this context, and clarifying that she referred to the lady joyfully accepting all, Ava agreed that was her image – and was close to her reality.

“OK, Hal. Then when we explore, we should try to talk outrageously, dirtily, as long as that doesn’t obscure our meaning. For example, rather than penis, prick or cock might be better, although manhood is silly. I have a vagina that is also a cunt or pussy, but hole is ambiguous.

“You also know that I like precious bodily fluids...” She batted her eyelashes.

“Thank you, General Ripper, sir! Points for Dr. Strangelove reference.”

“We might very well have some doctor fantasies, but not with Strangelove. Anyway, you already know that I like to exchange spit and piss and cum. While these are special from you, I like them from lots of people. If I don’t get any in the eyes, I like bukkake but I don’t like to see women hurt – and cum in the eye isn’t pleasant.

····

“Something that you haven’t yet experienced is a woman squirting. I do, but rarely. It is not piss, but something that seems very light and flavorsome to me. Women taste very different, but I still cherish one whose squirt reminded me of rosewater.

“I know you like it when I show off. You’ve only seen me dressed in something that’s not much different than exciting office wear. I want you to picture me in clubwear. Think of something that I might wear to get picked up, or flirt in the lounge of the swing club.

“Perhaps we should start with what really is one of my favorite outfits for travel, at least when I have security. Soft, thin, clinging sweater, of a green that brings out my hair. For it, I have two skirts, one mini and one micro. Both are of a nice chocolate leather. Matching boots, at least four-inch, although boots give me enough additional support that five-inch is possible if I don’t have to walk a great deal. Think of going from the curb to an airplane, perhaps the short distance for a private jet.”

“I’ve never ridden a private jet.”

“I think, dear, that is going to change very soon. Anyway, complete the image with dark tan hose. A micro slip, to protect the skirt, but panties? You silly man!”

“Oh yes, Joan. Heavy but artful makeup.”

“Of course, But what is this you see? My lipstick is smeared? Well, assume you’re meeting me after I fly in. I must confess, although proudly, that I couldn’t resist the pilot. No, I didn’t suck him off when he needed to fly. But do you want to tongue kiss and taste anything left from him?”

I was on fire. “Yeah.”

“Hal, the pilot had a fine body, but so do you. I’m thinking of looks for you. Business or preppy is fine, but I’m also thinking of you in a nice silky robe, maybe with just a posing strap underneath.

“Had enough to eat?”

“Thank you, yes. You might be amused by some of my tastes. While that was excellent, I learned, in a hospital stay, that I often prefer sandwiches for breakfast, but I can find a breakfast-style meal – never forget the bacon and hash browns – as a light dinner – to be excellent.”

Joan gave me a quick kiss. “I thought that I was the only person in the world that did that! Can bagels and cream cheese go both ways?”

“Certainly, although at home, the cream cheese tax must be paid to O’Reilly and any other resident cats.”

“Hal, I think it’s time that you meet the queen of the house, Elizabeth. I’d like her to learn the way that you think. Be aware she’s as sex-positive as I am. She likes her breasts to be admired, if you remember her eyes aren’t located there.” Joan giggled. “She will be the first to admit that she spent much money and effort on her boobs. Her face and legs, however, have natural talent.

“She also demonstrates that one can remain hot and sexy as one ages. I don’t know precisely how old she is, but she’s probably closer to a mother’s age than to a big sister. Our relationship is somewhere between those points, as well as in the professional.”

“Hal, there are some things that even I haven’t done. Oh, I’ve done some private shows, but not any porn. Can we fix that?”

“Yeah.”

“What would you like to see in porn?”

“More clothed exhibitionism than is usual. Start with an actress in a really short skirt, with what is clearly hose, darker suntan than her skin, as far as the eye can see. It turns out to be sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose, perhaps torn open for the scene. Before opening, I’d like to bury my face in her pussy and ass. Who knows – they might be deliciously dripping.