Diva - Cover

Diva

Copyright© 2020 by aroslav

Twenty

Coming of Age Sex Story: Twenty - Tony is off to the National Singles competition but illness prevents Lissa from joining him. Can Allison handle the heat of being the Ice Queen's substitute? And once the tournament is over and the threesome is scattered to Boston, Nebraska, and Seattle, will their relationship survive? Of course.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   mt/Fa   Fa/ft   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   School   Sports   Polygamy/Polyamory   Masturbation   Oral Sex  

MOM’S IDEA of a little Fourth of July barbecue amounted to about thirty people gathered in our backyard gabbing and eating for six hours. Many of the people who were watching the game in the morning were also at the barbecue. In addition to ribs, burgers, and dogs on the grill, Mom had baked apple, cherry, and strawberry/rhubarb pies. Everyone who came brought food, too. It was a Midwestern spread that you can only dream about in Seattle. Baked beans, potato salad, deviled eggs, macaroni and cheese, cobblers, pies, a cake, chips, coleslaw ... you name it. There was even the requisite green Jell-O salad with flecks of shredded carrot in it. By four o’clock, the younger kids were all gathered around the ice cream makers, cranking the handle and stealing bits of rock salt to eat like candy. There were plenty of soft drinks and beer for the adults in ice chests, and even a bottle of wine or two. Of course, there was watermelon. You’d think all we had to do all day was eat.

Well ... yeah.

My girlfriends were in high demand and Beth stood guard around them so the few classmates who were at the gathering understood that they were strictly off-limits. Of course, we all had to show our jewelry to everyone. It didn’t take long for people to understand what the triple-hearts on their necklaces meant. Folks just kind of nodded their heads and commented about how different things were these days.


We all had dishes of ice cream—I love that kind where Beth’s mom freezes Heath Bars and then shatters them to toss into the cream before it’s frozen—and were sitting in lawn chairs under the shade of the huge elm tree in our backyard. Rev. Larkin came to sit beside us. He also examined the necklaces and then looked at the Celtic heart bracelet that I wore. It has a trefoil woven through the heart.

“I was surprised when you said you’d retired,” I said. “I never think of you as being any older than my folks.”

“Well, Tony, church politics are as divisive as national politics. The church is divided over the same issues and is still fighting battles that were resolved in the sixties. I just had enough of it. I wanted to return to a place out here where people were just people. I got a part-time job with the Chamber of Commerce.”

“From what Deborah told me, it sounds like you were a little controversial,” Lissa said.

“Oh, the fact that I was arrested a couple of times in demonstrations in favor of gay marriage and economic equality might have shaped that opinion,” Rev. Larkin laughed. “If I hadn’t volunteered to retire, I suspect I’d have been encouraged.”

“I think it’s great that you took a stand,” I said. “I’ve never forgotten what you did for me.”

Neither Melody nor Lissa had heard the story, so I told them about the day I disappeared to draw by the creek and how the whole community had been looking for me. Rev. Larkin had been the only one who asked me what I was doing. When I showed him my sketchbook it was like he understood and smoothed everything out with my parents.

“That’s so cool,” Melody said. “You know, he still zones out when he’s drawing.”

“Speaking of which,” Rev. Larkin said, “what do you have to show me? Certainly there are some new drawings you can share.”

We finished up our ice cream and after I checked to make sure it was okay with Melody and Lissa, we took Rev. Larkin up to my room. I showed him my sketch books and then pulled the cover off the painting of Allison. He sat at the foot of my bed and seemed to be lost in the painting for a good five minutes. When he turned away from it, he saw the three of us hugging each other. He stood and came to face us.

“You know, there is no official church or state sponsored unions that include three or more people,” he said. “It’s too bad. I know you don’t have strong faith or a church background, Tony. I don’t know your backgrounds at all,” he said, looking at Lissa and then Melody. They didn’t volunteer any information. He took each of our hands together in his. “Well, just know this. God blesses love and when you love one another, God is there. May God under any guise that you recognize him ... or her ... bless your love and your lives together.”

He smiled at us and left the room. I looked at my lovers and we joined in a kiss. Our own amen.


Melody and Lissa were learning first-hand about hot Nebraska summers. They hadn’t expected to suffer the heat in heavy blue jeans, but I think they were thankful for them as I led them through the cornfield toward a woodlot nearly half a mile away.

“Knee-high by the Fourth of July” is an old saw, but with fast-growing hybrids, fertilizer, and fair weather, the farmers around here would have been worried if the corn was only up to their knees this week. The sharp bladed leaves of the plants scraped and cut along our jeans and unprotected arms as we made our way through rows of corn that Melody could barely see over. They hadn’t believed me when I told them that at night they could lie in a cornfield and listen to it growing. Not until we did it last night.

Then we let the cornfield listen to us.

“Are we there yet?” Melody whined.

In the four days it took us to drive from Boston to Nebraska, Melody had tried out the role of plaintive child. It always fell apart, though, when she finished the statement with, “I’m horny.”

“Sweetheart, you’ve got to think of it like city blocks,” I answered, trying my best to sound like a patient parent.

“I don’t see any sidewalks out here,” Lissa laughed.

“The corn rows are our streets,” I said. “There are eight city blocks in a mile. The woods are only half a mile from the road, so just four blocks. It’s like walking to Nordstrom’s.”

“Are we going shopping?” Melody asked brightly.

“No. We’re going painting ... in one of the most beautiful places in the Midwest,” I answered. “And I have a surprise for you when we get there.”

In fact, while Mom had the girls occupied for an hour at the barbecue yesterday, I’d stolen away long enough to solidify the plan for this morning. When we passed through the fence-row and into the trees, there was a noticeable change in temperature. We’d all worked up a sweat and the break in the heat was a welcome relief. I knew they were going to want to get naked in the stream soon, and I could hardly wait.

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