Chapter 2: Introductions

Monday 12 June At the bureau

Last week, after my move to this city, I had a few introductory talks as a senior partner of this larger architectural firm. Today the real work begins.

I had been approached for this position, just when Anneke and Lynn had bought a house in the Auvergne, wanting to spend their old pussy years there. I didn’t have enough new assignments in my own bureau, no focus, so I had to search around for a new start.

The first meeting was like a hot bath, my current assignments turned out to be sufficient for purchasing in a senior partnership. A large, furnished penthouse is available, so why not say no? And after that the regular workings, statement of irreproachable behaviour (fortunately never been found naked and fucking in a fountain!), medical research. I thought the extra attention for my bottom, front and back pieces a bit strange.

In the board meeting on Monday morning, I meet and greet the partners, introducing myself to those I had not yet spoken to before. Kees puts his left hand on top of our handshake, curious. I explain some of my work and design ideas, a lively discussion on ‘form and function’ arises as always between us architects. The ice is broken, they say in Dutch, we go back to work issues.

We discuss the portfolio of assignments, and I am getting the lead of the group of ‘trusted assignments’, because those involve both restoration and interior design, and that is my specialty.

“In addition to monuments, high-security villas, offices under state secret and – don’t smile – an exclusive sex club, you get to manage our lifestyle projects. Froukje has made a few feasibility studies of oncoming projects. You start with a clean slate. “ Kees concludes my introduction.

♂♀

Back in my office, Froukje, junior architect, comes in. No!’ I think when scenting her ‘la vie est belle’ brings me into a deep embrace of my Laura, a sudden fierce memory and I swallow a tear away.

“Is there something wrong?”

“Noohoo, nothing”, I say, “You can’t help it, your scent was my late girlfriend’s.”

“Shouldn’t I wear it anymore?”

“No, just leave it, you’re such a completely different person” and I admire the blonde, Friezian line in her light blue eyes, anthropologically correct posture and face, a bit square, washed clean, ‘Sunlight soap head’ Laura would say.

When we discuss the projects, my thoughts wander off and images of Laura flash by, urging me with her eyes to go deep into a girlfriend. Or the times when we walked into a party of infinite nudity, always with that scent.

“Some new project came in last week, I don’t know yet what it’s going to be, Leonard is going to take measurements next week”. She puts some pictures of a stately neo-Gothic villa in the woods in front of me. I’m back to square one. “Isn’t that, uh...”

“Oh yes, tomorrow afternoon you’ll have lunch with the client in ‘Harries Genot’, just around the corner from your flat.” She gives me the file with drawings and I watch her long legs in skinny jeans leave my room.

♂♀

At the end of the afternoon a whatsapp from Joan with an address, 20:00 and a selfie from her duck face. Mhmmm, sweetheart she is, I close my eyes and think of her cunt.

The priestess

The address leads to a large manor farm in the woods outside the town. Beautiful nineteenth century front house, behind it an enormous barn with a steep, high blue tiled roof on three sides. Front door in the middle, behind it a hall with monumental staircase, left and right large rooms and a large kitchen, upstairs four bedrooms. Barred windows give light to the cellars below. A swimming pool in the garden, surrounded by dense woodland, twinkles in the late sunlight.

Ascending the three steps, the door is opened in front of me and I stand in front of a beautiful woman, petite figure, about 40 years old, raven black, wavy hair over her shoulders, steel blue eyes, lily white complexity, in an A-line dress, her bosom pushed up, leather flip flops, black lacquered nails. “Joy”, she gives me one hand and puts the other one on top.

We enter the big upstairs room and I stand in front of a tapestry knotted with sisal and hemp. Suddenly I recognise it as a big pussy with free hanging labia from the clit cap, vividly undulating and with depth through all the weaving and tanning of the material.

Something like this: Meggie Derks, 1972 “Witte 9”, Textielmuseum Brabant[II]

“A Magdalena Abakanowicz?”

“No, almost. It was knotted by Monique, who was one of her students in Potznan in the 70s” she says.

We take a seat and I tell her about my relationship with Ferdy. She asks me a hundred questions about my past and more directly about my preferences in sex -bi, twinks, kids, milfs, top or bottom- but also how many times a week I enjoy myself, on my own, do I spray or dribble. Intimate, but what have I to hide?

Then she sits next to me and puts an arm around me, asking me about Laura and my black mourning period. I feel safe in her arms -unexpected with someone I have only known for half an hour- and tell her how happy we were together and how hard my decision was, to let her go. I showed my darkest spots of my soul to Joy and how I tried to live there. My struggle to get back to ‘normal’ functioning and not to stuck into the past, but up and go into the future...

“Can we share this with you and make it bearable, now you miss your two girlfriends? Because that is what our circle stands for, love, affection and warmth. Celebrate with our bodies that we are together, for each other and in each other”. I swallow for a moment and feel warm inside. She kisses me softly on my lips and pulls my head on her bosom, while my shoulders shake from crying...

♂♀

We have a drink and she starts evplaining. “The circle of Aphrodite is for friends, who not only fuck each other recreationally or love each other intensely, but also help and assist in everything that comes our way. The oldest is well into his seventies, the youngest are their teenagers from the age of 16. We reach the magic number of 66 with the couples, children are the extra fruits of our love.

There are regular celebrations, here in the temple. We follow a strict ritual with described holy acts, prayers and chants. They are a wink to holy and obscene texts of all denominations. Kind of wicca, though.

Of course there is the obligate fidelity to the circle and absolute silence to the outside, but there is also the obvious ban on unprotected sex outside the group. Our body is a temple, no tattoos or piercings, botox or silicones, long pubes hair can be groomed, but not shaved away. No drugs, that only causes deception and sadness, no smoking – if that works – and in moderation with alcohol. You do get a lot of sex in return, without inhibitions, with respect for each other’s limits”.

I nod and quickly realise that I have no problems with this club. My head and my heart say yes! “But why me? I come from elsewhere, I have one old friend here and I’m just starting to work, here. What do I bring you to invite me?”

“She smiles mysteriously.

Then she grabs both my hands, looks me deep in the eyes and whispers softly the first lines of the Charge of the Goddess: [ii]

Listen to the words of the Great Mother, Who of old was called Artemis, Astarte, Dione, Melusine, Aphrodite, Cerridwen, Diana, Arionrhod, Brigid, and by many other names:

Whenever you have need of anything, once a month, and better it be when the moon is full, you shall assemble in some secret place and adore the spirit of Me Who is Queen of all the Wise.

You shall be free from slavery, and as a sign that you be free you shall be naked in your rites.

Sing, feast, dance, make music and love, all in My Presence, for Mine is the ecstasy of the spirit and Mine also is joy on earth.

For My law is love is unto all beings. Mine is the secret that opens the door of youth, and Mine is the cup of wine of life that is the cauldron of Cerridwen, that is the holy grail of immortality.

Listen to the words of the Great Mother, who used to be called Artemis, Astarte, Dione, Melusine, Aphrodite, Cerridwen, Diana, Arionrhod, Brigid and many other names:

When you insist, once a month, preferably when the moon is full, you will gather in a secret place and worship the spirit of Me, the Queen of All Wise Men.

You will be free from slavery, and as a sign that you are free, you will be naked in your rites.

Sing, party, dance, make music and love, all in My Presence, for Mine is the ecstasy of the spirit and Mine is also the joy on earth.

For My law is love for all beings. Mine is the secret that opens the door of youth, and mine is the cup of wine of life from the cauldron of Cerridwen, the holy grail of immortality.

♂♀

“I’ll show you the temple” she says and we get up. She turns towards me and feels me with two hands on my crotch. “You’re in the mood” she says and kisses me full on the mouth. She grabs my hands and puts them on her breasts while looking me deep in the eyes.

“Do you really want us?”

“Yes, I want” I promise.

We go through a door in the upstairs room, several steps down into the large haymow, now furnished as a temple hall, the triclinium. In the middle of the space of 14 to 18 m stands the usual table construction, which carries the roof on four legs in a square of 5 to 7m. Between them at a height of 3,5m a glass ceiling, “where the naked angels play” she smiles.

On the high beams of that floor are spells in golden letters:

‘ubi caritas et amor gaudens ibi est’ “I understand what she means by a wink at existing rituals. ‘where there is affection and love, there is an orgasm close at hand’ Do you also do the foot-washing?” She nods. “And we go higher too.”

‘modus amandi est amare sine modo’ “Augustine knew it, ‘the way of loving is loving without measure’” I boast about my knowledge of the classics.

‘pueri puerilia tractant’ “‘boys are boys and do what they always do’ I do not understand.”

“Soon you will also be one of the boys, and you will know it” Joy grins falsely.

The triclinium has 3 clinia, play beds of 5×2 meter with a backrest of one meter wide. They are placed on 3 sides between the columns. The fourth side, under the table construction, has a stage of 4 by 4 m with two steps all around, the altar, on top of it the altar table and a tilting andreas cross.

On the wall behind it a painting of the goddess of fertility with all those spraying breasts.

Diana of Ephesus, ‘Mater Naturae’ Villa d’Este, Tivoli [III]

There are many small cameras mounted, from top, side and bottom, close at leg height in strategic places. On the large screens, which I see everywhere, the community -the comitae- can follow all the action in detail, even if some seed still needs to be wiped off the lens, Joy admits.

♂♀

We go through a double door into the old cowshed. It’s the bathing room, baptistery. In the old profile of high, where the cows stood, deep manure gutter and low walkway, the manure gutter has been widened to a 10 meter long, one meter wide shower tray with sprinklers from above and the side. Toilets and bidets on the higher part against the outside wall. I can picture the possibilities of water play and group penetration in front of me.

On the long inner wall a panel painted by Paul, Monique’s husband. I recognise ‘La Primavera’ by Botticelli, but then all the people are undressed, only Mercury does not pay attention and still has his red rag on. Venus too has only her red canvas more or less for her pregnant belly. The ripe plums in the trees have recognizable pussies, some with swollen lips, others with a black tanga. That’s why Mercury is pricking with a stick.

Botticelli 1477, “La Primavera”, Galleria d’Uffici, Firenze [V]

A cold shiver goes down my spine, Venus has my mother’s youthful face! Mercury, my father, looks away, as if he has already done his work. “And she’s pregnant with you.” She lovingly caresses Venus’ belly and my hair. “See, you were always here with us! You just had to be born, then there and also here, later. Welcome home” and again she takes me trembling in her arms. Emotions, emotions.

♂♀

We go back to the triclinium and she leads me to the altar table for my answer. Her dress falls off and she stands in her divine nakedness in front of me.

She holds her full breasts up in front of me “Do you bite the apple or do you strangle the snake?”

“I lick your apples and you kiss my snake! Yes! I say yes!”

I shimmy out of my clothes and take her in my arms in a heartfelt kiss. I press her full breasts flat, between us, our bellies caress each other and my rod tries to enter her navel. Our hands knead on each other’s buttocks and feel the crevice until we can go into an opening with a finger.

I just take a breath, “I want you!”

“Come to worship the goddess and give her your flowing essence, deep in my sheath!”

She stretches on the altar table and spreads her legs wide. I see her vulva for the first time, the entrance to Aphrodite’s cave ... Her full hairy hill, beautiful outer lips and fleshy inner lips, bigger than I ever tasted, lure me. Carefully I go outside, inside and stroke it with my finger. I tickle through her black curly hair and caress her with my eyes. I go very close and admire all the shades of pink in her undulations. I smell her excitement and finger in the smoothness of her scabbard. Suddenly I thrust an index finger deep into her. “ah”

That finger, now smooth from her juices, goes in search of her pleasure button, still so deeply hidden in her petals.

Then I put my mouth on her vulva and kiss her every inch. My tongue, secretly between my lips, does soft, sharp studding licks with its tip, until we reach the top in her woman’s vestibule. There clit and tongue romp long and intimate, while two thumbs accustom her scabbard to what is about to come. She sighs “the goddess descends into us” and starts moving her mons veneris, hips and thighs randomly, she orgasms furiously for me.

Yes, the goddess gives us nectar to drink and with my wet face I look up and see the ecstasy still furrow over her face. Ther’s nothing more beautiful in creation than a woman in full orgasm!

Soft kisses on her inner lips bring her slowly back to earth.

I arise, raise my hands to heaven and put my rod in front of her scabbard. “Aphrodite for Priapus” she shouts loudly and I punch deep inside her, pull back, punch again and shout “Priapus for Aphrodite”, Again I pull back, punch in. “Priapus in Aphrodite” together now.

And when finally my being slips into hers, over and over again, she sighs “the goddess will reward us” and we start the ancient dance to ecstasy. We lay our palms against each other and go in an ever higher rhythm, then lower and fast again, until we obey the goddess and surrender to the zenith of sacrifice. Seven streams of seed, 12 grips of her Kegels. “For Aphrodite!”

This was much more than orgasming together: it was being touched by the goddess, like a sacrifice on the altar, graciously accepted and rewarded.

I reach out to her one hand and she stands up, scoops our juices between her thighs with the other hand and spread them out over her pubes and mine. “Blissful coitus” she wishes me.

I finger a hard nipple “I forgot to worship these rubies, I hope the goddess forgives me...”

Trio with Philip

Joy and I are sitting glowing on a black leather sofa. “Just practical”she says, “leaking pussies and dripping dicks give awkward stains.”

“I have to show you something, give me your right hand” On our handshake she places her left hand. “If the thumb goes between the two hands, it’s clear you’re circle members.”

She grabs a small packet from behind the backrest “This is your permanent contact with our circle” She puts a smartwatch around my wrist “you get messages and calls and can see if there are any members nearby. During meetings, the excitement of you and your partners is measured. Statistics how often you edge or ejaculate and with whom and what you do, the times you spray and the seed volume, the afterglow and recovery time.
In the latest upgrade, the proximity of hands and noble parts has also been added, even without direct touch, because in an orgy you quickly lose the count of such delightful details and this way you can reminisce”.

She taps it on and the borromean rings light up. She connects to the big screen opposite us “in the temple and other sacred places this activates cameras at important moments”.

On the screen I see me entering Joy’s pussy, our worship and injecting myself up close into ecstasy. I can even see the bottom of my rod pulsing!

“Feel me looked at, spied on, like this.”

“No, you decide with whom you share images, your statistics are only publicly available to a limited extent. Oh, look, Philip is getting close” The smartwatch gives a gentle vibration and his name in purple red. “He’s horny as hell, means that colour.”

A gorgeous boy of 17, underbelly-weaking beautiful, comes into the room “Hey Mom, is this Ben? “(How does he know?) does a duckface to me, stands in front of his mother and presses his crotch against her nose. “Mmmm lots of sex I smell” she mumbles.

On my horny greedy look, Joy says “He is a likeness of his father Felix and has the sexual power of the Walpurgis Night in which he was conceived. Wait until you lie between the two of them. They’re turnig you inside out!”

He pulls his shirt over his head and a nicely trained body with six-pack makes my lazy little pendulum stand up.

He gives me the handshake, “Unpack me” He stands right in front of me and I loosen his belt. His buttondown makes me feel his hard sex through the thin fabric as I release him. Stubborn sex smell, they should sell them in a bottle ... I can smell his fuckin’ juice soaked triangle and rod from a distance.

Raven black hair, page cut, powerful jaws, luminescent blue, piercing eyes, a classic marble statue, hairless except for the thin treasure trail from his pecs to his full, black pubes. Tight rod up to his navel and velvety bag of large balls come from a neat bunch of black curls.

He sits down on my knees and slides up until our balls touch and looks into mine with his grey-blue eyes. Our rods begin an embrace.