Chapter 17

As she had told him, Essie rode beside Stuart when the caravan journeyed to Barcelona. Joe didn’t know if she remembered her late night query, but figured they’d be alone at least one of the five nights Rachel had penciled in so that people could enjoy the unique city. And maybe another night of group sex with Eddie if she agreed with the conversation. But the peculiar bonding those two had would have to make that conversation wait.

Joe became suspicious immediately about the accommodations Rachel had gotten. A house in the poshest part of Barcelona. One of Gaudi’s most famous homes was just a couple doors down. He realized if the revelation hadn’t happened, when Rachel arranged for Celia’s freedom, he would have been awed at her having such a luxurious connection. But it had happened. It made him wonder how many sex slaves were stashed in the basement. Especially the way the large blond man who looked to have been handsome once, but had gotten fat and edging towards jowly examined the women who accompanied Joe.

Rachel led the way, and was greeted by the man with a laugh. “The bitch is back!” he exclaimed before hugging her, with a squeeze of her ass.

Rachel extracted herself from his embrace with a chuckle. “Al, this is Joe.”

“At last!” the man exclaimed, lifting his thick hand. Joe shook it, regretfully. Kind of sweaty, and the man liked to squeeze. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“I can’t say the same,” Joe said, which made the man laugh.

“Al is an old friend,” Rachel said.

“Alejandro. Please.”

“Alejandro?” Joe asked.

“Spain is Al’s obsession,” Rachel explained, waving her hand. Joe looked around and saw art. Spanish Art. Expensive Spanish art. Miro. Dali. Picasso. Probably an El Greco somewhere.

“Spain? Spain? Please. Catalonia!”

“Of course. I apologize.”

“You don’t look ... uhm ... Catalonian,” Joe commented.

“Misplaced birth,” the man shrugged. “I’m Alsatian by birth, so it already was confusing.”

“I suppose it would be,” Joe chuckled.

“Eddie!” the man practically shouted, and not just embracing Joe’s best friend, but kissing him.

“One of Eddie’s first,” Rachel whispered to Joe.

“And I am one of Al’s Catalonian possessions,” said a tall lithe, dark haired middle aged woman. Dark eyes and a black dress made her a dark presence. A heavy Spanish or Catalonian accent.

“Alejandra, meet...”

“Joseph Solomon,” the woman said, eyeing him like prey. Joe didn’t mind. The woman was beautiful. Dramatic. With a charismatic presence. Like some sort of movie star.

“Oh!” Joe heard behind him. “Oh fuck!” Celia. She stood frozen. Afraid.

“Celia?”

“Please Joe. We have to go.”

“Okay,” Joe said and started walking her out.

“Wait,” said Rachel. “Please. Do you know her Al?”

“I ... She looks familiar.”

“I have the better memory, husband,” said Alejandra. “Celia, isn’t it?”

“How do you know her?” Joe growled.

“Please. It wasn’t me. My husband...”

“Bullshit,” Celia said.

Rachel must have realized what was going on. “I bought Celia’s freedom,” she said quietly.

“Oh. How wonderful. Could we talk in private? I would like to explain. And you’re perfectly safe here. But you understand. Privacy is...”

“I understand,” said Celia. “Joe comes with us.”

“Of course,” the woman smiled. The predatory flash once again seen. “Follow me.”

Joe and Celia followed the woman to the back of the house and into a small office. A window looked onto a charming patio. “Please sit,” she gestured to a dark, expensive looking leather couch. She sat on an equally elegant leather arm chair.

“You seemed to be shopping as much as your husband,” Celia immediately started.

“Shopping?” Joe asked.

“The harem.”

“Oh. Fuck.”

“He was there for the boys,” Alejandra explained. “Some fresh flesh I’m afraid.”

“Not for you?” Joe asked.

“Please. I like my men to be seasoned. Well knowledgeable in the art of pleasure. And conversation.”

Celia snorted a laugh. “So you’ve heard about Joe.”

“I’m friends with Rachel.”

“Of course. So what were you there for? Because you bought a good friend of mine. I never saw her again.”

“Lizabeth? She lives here.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“You bought a maid?” Joe asked.

“A companion Joseph. Many of the Prince’s harem have intelligence. Like Celia. I debated purchasing you. Your looks especially. Yes, you are a beautiful young woman, but what I mean is my husband would not prefer you? He likes the darker complexioned. Spanish like me or Arab or African. You would have been safe. But you had a scientific mind I recall. I sought a more artistic mind, yes?”

“That makes sense. Liz drew beautifully. And she’s...”

“Dutch. Knows their masters well. We’ve toured the Rembrandt museum many times. As well as the art here. Many of the paintings she has advised Al to buy. Taught me to appreciate more contemporary works. Picasso of course. But Miro was a challenge for me. Through her eyes I have gained a great appreciation for him, when before I did not understand? We still differ on Dali. She finds him silly and annoying while I quite enjoy his slyness.”

“She’s here?”

“I believe so. Perhaps asleep? I can check.”

“I would very much like to see her.”

“Of course. But for a price?”

“What price?”

“Joseph, he is your companion?”

“He is my lover.”

“Even better. Perhaps I can borrow him?”

Celia snickered. “Not my choice. I don’t own him. And if you’re asking permission, I doubt I’m the one to ask. But Joe is his own man.”

“You want to trade letting Celia see her friend,” Joe concluded, “so that she knows she’s safe in exchange for sex with me?”

“I very much wish to make love with you, Joseph, but an old woman like me...”

“That isn’t the problem, Alejandra.”

“It isn’t?” she asked hopefully.

“You’re a beautiful woman. Remarkably. How long has it been?”

“Excuse me?”

“Since a man made love to you. Your husband?”

“Ah, well, there is the difference. Making love and fucking. He is a very sexual man. I am sometimes the most convenient hole. I once was his great lover, but that was many years ago. I haven’t the patience nor the desire to draw it out anymore, to perhaps make it enjoyable. You notice I say lover instead of love? This is because I am his Catalan possession. Like I said. Like his art. But you see, I knew to make it best for me. Understand?”

“Yes,” Joe smiled. “So he fucks you. Anyone else?”

“You are very crude.”

Joe laughed. “I’m an American. Worse, a Midwesterner. No Southern gentleman or elite New Englander.”

“I have had ... affairs. Not for a while. One was nice enough. Even thought about running away with him. But Al ... can be a scary man.”

“I get that,” Joe nodded. “Go wake up Lizabeth. I’ll wait here.”

Alejandra giggled. Most unlike the dark woman, and most becoming. Made her look much younger. Like a girl finally getting to be with her crush.

When the ladies left, Joe perused the several spines of books in the office. Many large format art books. Joe pulled out one on Chagall. The Russian Jew always reminded him of Moe. The way her father’s apartment looked out over Lincoln Center. The huge Chagalls hung at the opera house could sort of be seen through their windows. A slight sigh of nostalgia escaped his mouth when he found them in the book.

Minutes later the door opened. “Where’s Celia?” Joe asked.

“They are talking. Very happy to see each other. Come on.” She took his hand and pulled him to his feet.

“Could I check on them?”

“You do not trust me?”

“No.”

“Understood,” she frowned.

A back stairwell led them upstairs. She carefully opened the door. A small bedroom. A pretty blonde lay in bed, her head propped up. Celia sitting on the bed. Both smiling. “Joe, this is Liz.”

“Hello,” Joe said.

“Hello,” Liz smiled.

Celia and Joe nodded to each other. Celia couldn’t help the giggle.

“Come on,” Alejandra said impatiently once she closed the door after Joe exited. She led him to an ensuite bedroom. “My quarters,” she explained. “Strip please.”

“You first.”

“I wish to see you.”

“Perhaps both of us?”

“Yes Joseph.”

Both stripped simultaneously. Joe helping unzip her dress and unlatch her bra. Both gazed at the revelation. She was slim and small breasted. Her skin both loose and tight. Her breasts and ass had some droop, from age, but sustained some resilience. Age made her skin less elastic. Joe was used to that. All and all, she was a beautiful woman. Stunning even. His penis reacted, which pleased her. She touched the rising flesh. He felt her firm abdomen. Some looseness in her skin, but not much. Fingers found the coifed nest above her slit.

“I trimmed and shaved,” she said. “Knew you were coming.”

“Very obliging,” he grinned and knelt in front of her. His hands pushed at her strong yet slim thighs. She got the message, spreading her legs enough for him to press his tongue into her.

“Oh,” she moaned.

His hands grasped her ass. Felt the looseness and the strength within. “You work out.”

“Yes,” she moaned, since his tongue immediately stroked across her clit, which already began to emerge from its hiding place.

“Children?”

“Just one. Before I met Al. Had to give her up to an orphanage.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“I imagine ... an orphanage might not ... have been ... a great way to be raised ... but I ... would have been worse.”

“If you say so.”

“Ran away ... from my folks. No one ... take care ... of her.”

His hands reached around. Fingers opened her and rubbed along the lips. His tongue stroked in and out and around and circled her clit. The pleasure weakened her. She needed the bed for support. Joe remained kneeling between her thighs. But his hands moved from her ass. Up to her breasts. Gently making the nipples hard. A substantial length. And sensitive.

“Joe,” she moaned. “Please.” She pulled on his shoulders.

“Later,” he chuckled.

He teased her, finally relenting, giving her an intense orgasm. While she came, he urged her onto the bed, but remained at her pussy. A hand coming to help sank a finger into her remarkable tightness. Fucking her while his tongue danced around her turgid clit. Adding another finger, they found her g spot and stroked. Her orgasm abated, he brought his tongue closer to the clit, sometimes lapping across it, which always made her arch and moan deep. “Please,” she begged. But he stayed where he was. Bringing her a second orgasm, almost as intense.

Finally he crawled over her. “Condom?” he asked.

“I am safe.”

“Nevertheless.”

“I insist my husband wear them. Even though he became sterile, a long time ago, not wanting an accident with some girl, I do not trust where it has been.”

“Nevertheless.”

“In the drawer there’s a paper. I had the doctor translate.”

“For me?”

“Yes.”

He found the paper. No STDs. Including AIDS. Her hand held his cock. Led it to her needy opening. Sighing he pushed into her tightness, well lubricated from his spit and her two orgasms.

“Your husband must be small,” he moaned.

“Yes, but I have always been narrow. Sometimes ... painfully.”

“Now?”

“No. God no. Please.”

He sank in slowly. All the way in. She was narrow but she was deep. He felt no cervix. She pushed up against him. Ground into him. Her hand lifted and she brought his head down. Their first kiss. Her lips were neither plush nor narrow. A pleasant average. They were soft and loose and warm. Sensuous. The kiss continued. His tongue became the second organ entering her. Eventually her lips gripped it. Fucking her mouth while fucking her pussy. At a steadily more rapid pace. Then his fingers became involved in entering her. A hand that gripped her small ass cheek, loose flesh with firm muscle beneath, brought fingers to caress and circle her anus. Her moan urged him to continue. He separated from her mouth briefly to wet his pointing and middle fingers. The middle one entered her first. The pointing one a bit later. By then the fucking had become more aggressive. Her mouth cried out her pleasure, rhythmically with each of his cock’s thrusts, lips opening before closing again on his tongue. Wanting to feel the three entrances inside her. Finally letting go of his tongue entirely. Her body arching. Her head bent back. A great moan let loose. With his name contained. “Joseph!”

A quick flourish of thrusts and he joined her in ecstasy.

When they calmed, she giggled. “Perfect,” she said.

“We’re not done,” he answered, letting his cock, much deflated, slip out.

“You are going to taste yourself,” she murmured.

“Yes.”

His tongue did indeed taste his cum as it sustained her pleasure.

“Let me taste me on you then,” she moaned.

He moved his body around and pulled her atop him. She explored his soft penis with curiosity. Its hardening made her giggle within a moan. Her lips enclosed it and mouth felt it harden further. Thrilled at her success and the pleasure he gave her pussy, she became an enthusiastic fellatrix. Soon coaxing him to full hardness. Releasing it to gasp, since she edged towards another orgasm. She moved off him, staying face down, literally. Her ass high. “Fuck me hard as you want,” she begged.

He took position behind her. Her hand guided him in. Her tits became his hand holds. Almost crushing them before releasing them. “Please,” she moaned, covering his hands with hers. Getting the message, he kept the harsh hold of her flesh. Found a way to pinch her nipples at the web between thumb and forefinger. Her moans suggested she approved.

She came soon after. And when she started towards another peak, he let loose one of her tits and brought fingers to his mouth. And then to her anus. Fucking her there as hard as his cock fucked her pussy. It brought her to new heights. Nearly passed out from the orgasm. “Enough,” she murmured, pulling away from him. He lay down on his back, catching his breath. She lay along his side, grabbing his cock. “You did not cum.”

“I’m fine, Alejandra.”

“Perhaps more?” she asked, beginning to crawl atop him.

“No,” he chuckled. “I believe you’ve reached your endpoint on that.”

“Perhaps you are right,” she smirked and kissed down to his cock. “May I?”

“You can try. It could take a while.”

“A challenge!” she exclaimed, giggling. Then silencing it with her mouth becoming full. Like before she seemed to study the experience. Taking her time with it. Going slow. But effective. Each of his moans pleased her. Then a very loud moan would have made her giggle if her throat hadn’t been filled with cock.

“That’ll work,” he managed to chuckle.

She wasn’t quite up to Essie’s skills. Maybe Cheryl’s during early times. Cheryl had become almost as good as Essie. Several strokes in and she backed off, her hand taking over stroking him. And again. And again. The fourth time was the charm. “Cumming,” he warned her.

Her throat released him as did her mouth. Her hand fisted him until he came. She watched the fascinating fountain. “Sorry. I know men prefer we women swallow. I have never taken to the taste or texture.”

“Never apologize for that,” Joe said. “Your marvelous blow job made me cum. Each to her own after that.”

He urged her upwards and kissed her thoroughly. Even though it wasn’t quite the sacrifice, since her mouth had none of his ejaculate, she appreciated it nevertheless.

“Thank you, Joseph,” she murmured, kissing him again. “But I do have guests visiting.”

“Too late for that,” Joe chuckled. “Let’s hope Al showed them their rooms.”

“I imagine our butler did,” Alejandra muttered. “Al’s taking his payment from Eddie and Rachel.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. Sorry. Eddie does not mind. Despite my husband becoming more and more a fat pig.”

“Rachel isn’t his type.”

“The exception that proves the rule. She is any man’s type. She gets lovelier every year.”

“True,” Joe chuckled. More serious, he asked, “Maybe you should leave him.”

“I am used to the luxury. Like I say, he owns me. His Catalan interests has converted him to Catholicism. No divorce.”

“No children makes annulment possible.”

“No Joe. He would leave me destitute or worse if I left him.”

“He would kill you?”

“Have me killed. He finds killing ... distasteful. But please do not worry. I am fine, Joseph. We get along despite appearances. We amuse each other still. I just miss this,” she said, stroking his chest.

“But I can’t give you this again,” Joe pointed out.

“Maybe one more time? Before you leave?”

“Okay.” Which made her grin and kiss him. “Perhaps you could come visit. You travel?”

“Always with Al, but perhaps. Or you could visit me? If you really wish this.”

“I do, Alejandra. I find you beautiful and fascinating. And you need me.”

Alejandra chuckled. “Rachel told me of your thing. Saving damsels in distress.”

“And that perhaps guided what you said to me?”

“It might have. But I have been honest. I do need this. Perhaps more than I thought I did.”

“I know,” Joe said, kissing her.

She sighed. “I should let you go.”

“I should check on the others. They might be worried.”

“The servants have informed them of my need of your services.”

Joe laughed. “I have heard servants can be well informed.”

“Little spies. But they’re harmless. Al has many friends. But it sounds like you are not familiar with servants.”

“No. We all pitch in at my home. At least most of us. Including my children.”

“How ... democratic.”

“I’m an American,” Joe shrugged. “You’ve heard of Minnesota.”

“From Eddie and Rachel and from your books. It’s quite amazing that two of my favorite musicians are from there. Well three, including Eddie.”

“Prince and Dylan. It is quite a coincidence. Two of the most influential musical geniuses of the twentieth century. Dylan even grew up in a small town like me, although much farther north. So you’ve read my novels?”

“Of course. I had to learn about my prey,” she smirked. “In Spanish of course. All your novels have been translated. I even found a collection of your poetry in English. Lizabeth and I read them aloud to each other before your visit. I quite like them.”

“Thanks.”

They finally got up. Alejandra led him to a shower where they helped clean off the proof of their lovemaking. Giving rise to his cock and wetting Alejandra’s pussy without help from the water. Both decided, reluctantly not to do anything about it.

Leaving the bedroom, they discovered the huge house nearly empty. Just servants. And Liz and Celia sitting in the common room just past the entryway.

“Was it good?” Liz asked her patroness. She was much taller out of bed. At least six feet, Joe estimated. Somewhat thickly built, with smallish breasts and a more pronounced ass. Very pretty. Very blonde. Intelligent eyes.

“Very very good,” said Alejandra, making everyone laugh.

“Everyone went to Las Ramblas,” said Celia. “It seems Barcelona can be a late night city.”

“It is that,” Joe smiled. He hadn’t visited for years, but had enjoyed the visit immensely. One of his favorite cities. Ranking with Paris and New York and San Francisco. “Shall we go?”

“Let’s,” said Celia.

Joe strolled beside Alejandra while Celia and Liz continued enjoying each other’s company. Most of the booths were closed. The more touristy ones were open. And the most exotic, where weird stuff was sold, like insects and other nasty things. Food booths served various tapas. Larger bars and restaurants or a combination of the two. They stopped at one for tapas and samples of local wine. Rich red.

“Liz wants us to go to the Miro museum tomorrow,” Celia informed Joe.

“The perfect guide,” Alejandra grinned.

“I’m looking forward to it,” said Joe. “Will you come?” he asked Alejandra.

“If you wish.”

“I wish.”

“Then I will.”

They changed walking partners after. “You two go on ahead,” Alejandra suggested. “Lizabeth and I will meet you at the water’s edge.”

“Okay,” said Celia, taking Joe’s arm.

“Liz is a lesbian,” she told Joe.

“Oh?”

“Alejandra isn’t. Liz wanted to make that clear.”

“Understandable. Is she seeing someone?”

“Not any longer. She had a girlfriend. A classmate. She studies art history and painting at University. Her friend graduated and returned home. To Columbia.”

“Just recently.”

“Yes. But they had readied for it. I’m sure she misses her. It had been difficult, finding a girlfriend. Al tends to scare them away.”

“I imagine. A braver girl then.”

“I think there might have been consequences if Al had ... shown interest.”

Joe could only nod. “Does she want you to sleep with her?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to sleep with her?”

“Yes. We used to. We were more than friends.”

“You know you don’t have to ask for permission.”

“I know. But...”

“But what?”

“I mean, she had to have sex with men, just like I did. It was more difficult for her, but she managed. Needed the lubricant more than me, you know. I told her how different you were. As a lover. She wants proof.”

“I see. Is she at all interested in men?”

“Maybe not interested, but she’s not repulsed. A cock doesn’t repulse her. Nor a man’s physique. She’s done plenty of drawings of both. A weird fascination for a lesbian. And the smell. The way a man smells different. Especially his cum. That doesn’t repulse her either.”

“And you think it should?”

“Don’t you?”

“You think our desire is chemical. Or some arrangement of cells. Some genetic make-up. Maybe it is. Maybe men find the smell of pussy repugnant or women can’t handle the smell of men’s testosterone, or its manifestation. The attractant of sex. Our lure. Like pollen for bees. Pheromones. Like the way Eddie is about going down on women. He’s not completely homosexual, but there’s the barrier. Perhaps she’s more like Eddie. Not in the sense of being bisexual. But not being completely turned off by the scent of men. Just ... not lured perhaps?

“And physically, maybe it’s the same thing. I think the queerest of men still find the shape of women fascinating. To be clichéd, an awful lot of fashion designers are gay. And yet, at least some of them know how to make the female look even more beautiful clothed, and accentuate the shape.”

“So what you’re saying is she’s fascinated but not interested, at least sexually. And the smell of a man, his pheromones, don’t bother her, but don’t lure her either. Essentially watching you make love to me, turn me into a limpid pool of jelly, won’t convince her to join the other side.”

“Probably not,” Joe chuckled. “Did you want that?”

“No. Although she would miss out on some of the fun. But at least two of your lovers are lesbian, aren’t they?”

“You mean Shawna and Liang. Shawna’s definitely bisexual. She started out exclusively with men. I think she enjoyed it somewhat. But definitely prefers women.”

“Except you. Joe the stud,” she giggled.

“It’s a skill I enjoy as much as they do, as you do. I won’t deny it.”

“Of course not.”

“Liang ... is more complicated I think. We just connected. Like I connected with Cheryl. Probably why she’s my wife. It was ... profound. Still is. Maybe it changed her. Got her to accept my attractants.”

“So you did turn her.”

“Maybe I did. It’s just not a comfortable idea for me. You know, the whole thing of psychologists trying to change gay people to straight people. Or that erotic fiction of changing lesbians into cum guzzling sluts. Because some man is so good at fucking them, they finally get it. I’d rather think she’s in a gray area of sexual interest. Men didn’t attract her until I did. She had been exclusive with women until she wasn’t. She has been with men besides me. But always with another woman present. Most often Esther. So there was a most formidable distraction.”

“You could say that,” she chuckled. “And knowing you, there were women present when you two made love.”

“Most of the time, yes.”

“Not all the time?”

“No. But I do tend to suck her into near oblivion before I fuck her.”

“And when you do fuck her?”

“Face to face. Me dominant. She doesn’t ride me. She likes me in charge. Sometimes she’ll wake me to cuddle and she’ll end up in my lap. We both love that. But it ends up with me fucking her below me. Kind of the opposite of the way she is with women when she’s fucking them. Then she’s the one in charge, most often from behind.”

“But you never fuck her doggy style.”

“I guess not.”

“Interesting.”

“It is.”

“It’s like she needs you in command. Making her get fucked. Witnessing it.”

“We’ve never had rape fantasies.”

“I don’t think that’s what it is. Maybe it’s about marveling that a man, you, can give her such pleasure. Like it’s this wonderful miracle or something.”

“It’s pretty miraculous for me as well. Yanhuo is ... an amazingly beautiful woman in every way.”

“Her nickname? Yanhuo?”

“Means fireworks in Mandarin. Cheryl already had firecracker.”

“Yanhuo is the whole shebang.”

“Yes she is.”

“You miss her.”

“I do.”

“And your firecracker.”

“I miss them all. I guess I’m selfish that way.”

“You’re not though. Even though you’re with me talking about missing them, not only are you being incredibly honest, but I don’t feel any less like you’re completely here with me.”

“I am with you. Completely.”

She giggled.

“You know you’re an amazing woman, Celia. Each moment you get more amazing.”

“I love you too.”

“Sky, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“You’re name.”

“Heavenly is the translation. Latin.”

“We just covered all the nicknames of the women I love. Oh, one more. I call Maria the Greek Goddess.”

“You want to call me Heavenly?”

“Just Heaven. Though you are rather heavenly. Not all the time. When you’re particularly amazing or sexy. I do tend to call Liang Yanhuo fairly often, because I like saying it and she finds it sweetly intimate. I haven’t called Cheryl firecracker in a while because ... well ... she hasn’t been lately.”

“You should.”

“Should what?”

“Call her firecracker.”

“Like I said, she hasn’t been. She used to be the most spontaneous woman I ever met. A surprise at every turn. Little explosions. Or big ones.”

“Does she still amaze you?”

“Always.”

“Just call her that. If it bothers her or you, just tell her I insisted.”

“Okay, Heaven.”

They laughed.

They finally joined the others. It turned out to be a popular place to meet up. Limos picked them up and drove them to the luxurious house.

Celia and Liz had their conversation before they left the spot. Liz told her she was tired. Everyone was.

“He’s good at morning sex,” said Celia which made Liz laugh and agree.

Seeing the much larger bed that she and Joe would share, along with Ginny, Liz invited her old friend to join them there.

“I can find another bed,” said Ginny.

“No. Stay,” Liz said. “I just need to slip on my sleepwear.”

“We sleep naked,” Celia pointed out.

“Okay.”

It turned out Liz wasn’t as tired as she thought. Kissing Celia became much more. “Don’t worry about them,” Celia insisted.

“You’d better distract me.”

“That I shall,” Celia giggled, her head slipping beneath the covers.

Both Ginny and Joe noticed the goings on near them. Ginny copied Celia, including a giggle. But her legs ended up appearing, surrounding Joe’s head. Her pussy soon occupied Joe’s mouth. Liz got the hint and nudged Celia until two sixty-nines went on side by side. All four intents were successful, with Joe cumming last, after Celia. Two heads emerged. Two kisses. The one between Ginny and Joe amazed Liz.

“Yes she did swallow,” said Celia. “Yes he’s that kind of guy.”

Cognac and water, the latter in a carafe, had been brought to the bedroom by a servant. They had all sipped and drank, but some remained. Ginny finished hers and Joe’s, followed by water.

“It still must taste bad,” Liz whispered.

“Yes, but it’s Joe’s.”

Liz shrugged and yawned. It was contagious. People settled into sleep.

In the morning, as promised, Liz watched her friend and Joe make love. Ginny spooned behind her. “Mind if I touch you?” Ginny asked.

“No I don’t mind,” Liz answered, her eyes focused on Joe going down on Celia. By Celia’s response he must have been great at it. She didn’t cum, but that seemed to be his intent. Building her to extreme pleasure without allowing her release.

“Joe,” Celia moaned. “Please.”

“Patience Heaven,” and he continued the build. When it appeared she couldn’t take anymore, he climbed over her and penetrated her. Celia went nuts. The most intense orgasm Liz had ever witnessed. Not that she’d witnessed many. Just hers and her partners. But this was extreme.