Chapter 3

Part 4; A threesome with 2 bisexual policewomen is practically impossible.

It was dark in the back of the cave, but dry. I’d done a lot of work over the years I’d been living there, digging deeper into the cliff, brushing loose material from the walls and ceiling, and making a smooth floor from clay I dug from a gully a mile away. The cliff consisted of layers of sedentary rock like a lasagna, and my cave was dug into a soft section under 2 foot layer of hard impermeable material that formed my ceiling.

We kissed and stroked each other, my big penis as hard as ever, hot in their hands as their breasts covered me. Catarina had big ones. Firm big tits, delectable.

My initial motivation, the box I’d seen blowing towards the shore was forgotten as I kissed my two sexy friends. It was probably nothing anyway, and threesomes don’t happen very often, not even for me.

“No, no condom.” Filipa said.

“Really?” I asked “But what about...”

Shit; she was in her thirties, her lover was a woman. Filipa wanted to get knocked up.

“Don’t make a big deal about it!” she barked, slapping my ass for emphasis. Catarina giggled as I obediently slid my rod into the tight wet snatch of her boss.

This was getting complicated. I don’t like complicated.

Filipa wrapped her long powerful legs around my ass and heaved insistently. Her hands on my rear as I did it to her. I do like that.

Catarina lay alongside and held our lover’s head against her big breasts, my big rod hit her where it counts, and she came.

I had no intention of inseminating her; not yet anyway.

“Oh, me, me!” Catarina insisted. I always thought she wasn’t really into it much, she just wanted to participate.

“Did you come?” Filipa demanded.

“No.” I said, wondering if she was going to insist. Because I’d have to do it if she did, she was chief of police and I would if she insisted.

What? How did I manage to get two federal police officers into my cave in the first place?

I have to backtrack again; and tell you about how I came to live in the hole in the cliff, and how I seduced the saucy young recruit, Catarina.

A couple of months into my affair with Esmeralda, I had to move out of the dingy room in the village because I couldn’t even pay for that.

I seduced a young Scandinavian tourist who had camping gear, and stayed with her in her tiny tent for a couple of very pleasant nights. She left it with me when she flew home.

I set up on the edge of the sea cliff just south, because no one went there. The tourists all went to the big sandy beach with the access road and the bars. Locals lived inland at the village, away from the harsh winter storms. The area was windswept and barren, a 100 meter wide barrier between the sea and the irrigated green farmland.

Only old guys would pass by, on bicycles or on foot, heading to the cliffs for fishing.

One night as it got dark, I noticed an old duffer’s bike was left against a rock. He was a friendly guy, he’d given me sardines a few times. I went to look for him.

He was on the rocks at the bottom of a cove with a broken leg; and the tide was coming up. I didn’t want to go down there, but I knew I must.

I had conflicting urges; one to run away and pretend I hadn’t seen him, and another to risk my own life and help. I can’t say what I would have done.

He saw me and called out; I had no choice, I had to try.

I was terrified as I climbed and slid down the slippery track, holding myself from falling by grabbing bushes that clung to the barren rocks.

I dragged the old man to safer ground as he screamed in agony, heaving him up onto a rocky ledge. Then I climbed the treacherous slippery cliff again and went for help.

I was a hero; no longer an overstay tourist, I was accepted as a person.

A local guy showed me the cave, it was half hidden by bushes and I’d never noticed it. It had been dug long before but no one knew how long. I moved in.

I was a sort of local mascot, the old foreign hermit by the sea. It was easy to stay, and difficult to leave. So I stayed.

Filipa met a suitable guy, a teacher from the big town up the road. She would stop by sometimes, just to talk, and ask me if I’d seen anything suspicious. That was the deal; she was no longer my snatch, and I was still her snitch. There was a lot of smuggling on this coast, immigrants and drug runners from Africa. I was the watchman.

I surfed, fished, did odd jobs, and seduced passing tourists. I let my beard grow out so I looked old and scraggly. I was lean, strong, and weather-beaten.

I was a caveman, penniless. At the same time, I had a sea breeze, a sea view, and a lot of sex with a lot of women.

Women talk; half my work was done by my reputation.

I was happy, and a few years passed without notice. The world changed outside, but my cave and my cove were timeless. Nearby, new hotels and expensive second homes for outsiders were built, kids grew up and moved away, new friends became old friends.

Women came to me for sex. Many came back for more, sometimes a year or two later. Some brought gifts; bedding or baked goods.

Sometimes, a flashlight would appear at the entrance late in the night, and in total darkness a woman climbed into my bed. I could taste she was a smoker, feel she was muscular and slightly lumpy, she didn’t say a word, and I had no idea who she was.

We kissed, caressed, and fucked. Her breasts were large and hung a bit. No jewelry at all. Shoulder length thick hair. She moaned and sighed loudly each time she came.

She liked missionary, cowgirl, and scissors. Her groin was furry and tasted nice. She sucked cock happily but only as foreplay.

After she was satiated, she found her clothes and her light in the darkness, and she’d slip out into the night silently. She came to the cave 15 or 20 times over a few years. She had to be local, probably someone’s wife, I never figured out who she was.

A young Greek hippie girl wanted to stay with me in the cave, she was fun. She had a flat belly, small pert tits, long curly hair, and loved sex. After a few months she got bored, and moved on.

Chinese, Japanese, Russians, lots of Germans, some English, Portuguese, French, Dutch ... they came, they came, they left me with fond memories.

Anyway, it was several years into my cave life when Filipa brought Catarina to me. A new recruit just transferred from Barcelona.

She was young; and too good looking to be a cop.

We sat on the ledge overlooking the small rocky cove and talked as it got dark, late into the night.

People tell me things; as if I’m a priest or something. Things that they really shouldn’t tell strangers. The sound of surf pounding on the rocks below makes conversation private.

Catarina told me she’d had an affair with a woman, she wasn’t sure if she was gay, she’d never been with a man. Yet.

Well obviously, a hot young proud woman like her was never, never going to be wrapped around the cock of a foreign bearded caveman like me, so she could tell me all that. Besides, she knew I was seeing someone. Well, more than one. The mayor’s mother and a young German girl who was staying nearby. We were just friends.

I wish I could just stay friends with women instead of fucking them all. Really, I do. But I just can’t help it. My mind tilts and my mouth waters, I want to touch. Feel their energy, their beauty, their smooth warm skin. It’s an addiction I suppose.

It didn’t happen that night though. She climbed up the track to the plateau and returned to the police outpost in the village.

One night a few months later, a small boat landed on the beach below my cave; no easy task. They hid something in the bushes above the tide line, and left.

It turned out to be a bale of counterfeit cigarettes.

Catarina sat on my ledge all night waiting for someone to come get it, but no one did. I brought her hot coffee, and rubbed her shoulders.

I woke her just before dawn, as someone scrambled past my cave, taking the track down the cliff. She made the arrest. Thank god it wasn’t one of my fisherman friends.

It’s funny what turns some people on.

She was short and curvy; by which I don’t mean fat.

No, curvy. A solid ass and wide hips, a narrow waist and big firm young breasts that reminded me of a girl I knew long before. Or maybe a couple of them.

She came back after she finished booking him, at 10AM with fresh rolls from the bakery, bright sunlight and coffee on the ledge. She was still in her uniform, but had removed the hardware. Gun, cuffs, radio, all that.

“My first real arrest!” she told me happily, and I could see the excitement on her cute face. Happiness at her achievement spilling just slightly over into other areas of her young head.

I suspect she wanted to want me more than she really did want me, it was enough to work with though.

I moved in quickly, before she changed her mind. I slid my body against her, so our hips pressed together as we sat side by side. Totally overt. I looked at her, our faces very close, too close to pretend there was any other intent.

She stared at me, afraid yet resolute. She’d made her decision, it was time to perform the experiment. Hetero sex.

So I put my arm around her, my hand clamped her shoulder, and I gently kissed her mouth.

She was tense at first, and then I felt her body soften as she relaxed herself.

I tore my mouth away and ran my eyes around the cliffs, there were only a few spots where we could be seen from and there was no one there.

“Shall we go inside?” I asked. She nodded silently.

“You’re big!” she declared as she held my burning log in her hands.

“Yes.” I said, hefting her tits, “You’re pretty well endowed yourself.”

“I’m thinking of having them reduced.” She said, “It’s hard to be taken seriously when these things are in the room.”

“Oh jeez; let me enjoy them first.” I said, and buried my face between the warm soft mounds of woman.

Catarina wanted to do it; but she didn’t. She wanted to be straight, but she wasn’t.

Her young body was created to accept the male appendage, and it did. I kissed her and fucked her affectionately, sensuously, and after a time I got just one orgasm from her, and for me that’s a huge failure.

“Who are you thinking about?” I asked her compassionately as we cuddled.

“Filipa.” She admitted. “She’s so sexy, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I sure do.” I said. “You and her work closely, it must be hard if you’re into her.”

“I know she’ll never sleep with me.” Catarina said, “She’s not like that.”

In the deep darkness of my evil subterranean lair, I smiled at the emergence of a new challenge.

I slid my cock in and out of the sexy lesbian cop for a while; she didn’t mind but she wasn’t really into it either, so I pulled it out of her.

We heard someone calling; “Justin? Are you home?”

“Who’s that? Catarina asked with relief as I got up and threw a cloth around my hips.

It was the missing banker, Dulce. She came down the steep track and arrived on the ledge out front unscathed, elegant as ever in a colorful blouse and sturdy but fashionable high boots.

“What happened to you?” I asked her, “Everyone assumed you were dead.”

“Oh, I just needed to get away for a while.” She said flippantly. “I had to see you again. Say, do you happen to know where my things are? The passport is sort of important, I need to go to New York.”

“The police took your clothes, jewelry, and papers.” I told her.

“And the two thousand euros in cash?” She chided me.

“I used that to fund my extravagant lifestyle.” I told her. “Look, I um, sort of have someone with me. Could you come back tomorrow?”

She didn’t; she collected her things from Filipa at the police station and none of us ever saw her again. She was in the news though; a long story for another time.

I went back inside and got back into bed with Catarina. We cuddled and talked until dawn, intimately sharing our dreams without sharing orgasms.

I never actually came that night, and I forgot to notice.

I wanted to get the two policewomen in bed with me at the same time. There was no gain for me in it, it was just for fun, and to help Catarina.

“A threesome?” she asked doubtfully.

“Threesomes are magic.” I told her, “If you let it happen, bisexuality occurs naturally. She’ll be your lover as much as mine.”

“You’ve done it before?”

“I have.”

“Always two girls and one guy?”

“No. I’ve been with a woman and another man too.”

“Wow.” Catarina sighed, and I think she was just slightly impressed.

The first thing I had to do was get Filipa into my bed again.

It was a month later when Catarina told me that Filipa had broken up with the school teacher.

“But she knows you and I are seeing each other, right?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Tell her I broke up with the German girl and the mayor’s mother.” I said.

“Did you?”

“Sort of. Gertrude left and Esmeralda is too busy in tourist season.”

“So we’re going to tell her you’re only sleeping with me, when in fact we aren’t sleeping together at all.” Catarina said.

“What was that we did last week?” I asked

“Ok, we’re rarely sleeping together.” She argued.

“That wasn’t sleeping.” I said.

“Do you want to argue with me?” she snapped.

She was maybe 80% lesbian and 20% straight. Catarina had sex with me only because she couldn’t have sex with Filipa.

“Sorry, ok, get her over here and we’ll all hang out, ok?”

“Ok, ok, ok.” She agreed.

No drink, no drugs, and no lies. I wanted it clean, honest. Just a little artifice.

Catarina talked me up a little, then left Filipa at the cave with me.

We talked, drank coffee, and I moved close.

“What are you up to, Justin?” she asked, “You’re with Catarina now, isn’t she enough for you?”

“I’m not ‘with’ her.” I said defensively, “If I was, she’d be way more than enough. She’s amazing, don’t you think?”

“Yes, too clever to be stuck here at the edge of nowhere.” Filipa said, and I saw it.

I saw it because that’s what I do, I recognize emotions, desires.

Filipa was enamored; not in love, but she was definitely soft on the younger woman.

“She really likes you.” Filipa continued, “She says you’re the only nice guy she’s ever met.”

Well that was clearly a lie; I’m a lot of things, but ‘nice’ isn’t one of them. I laughed pretty hard at the allegation.

“Did you ever think of her in a sexual way?” I asked, because we were close enough for me to do so.

“No, of course not.” Filipa snapped, a little too loud and a little too fast. Even she noticed her denial was forced.

“Well, not really.” She allowed.

“Go on.” I prompted her.

“She does have the most amazing breasts.” Filipa said.

“She sure does.” I agreed, “The way they stand when she’s naked, you’ve seen them right?”

“Of course.”

“They’re heavy and firm when you lift them, and her nipples go crazy hard when she’s excited.”

“I thought they were like that all the time.”

“No, only when she’s excited.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Oh.”

“Hey, do you want to go inside and fool around?”

“Thanks Justin, but we had our time. No going backwards.”