Chapter 8: Sixth Visitation: the Fat Lady

Thursday, June 22

An angulated double house, gleaming ocre yellow brick with red trims and window jambs, circa 1895, I estimate. The entrance on the corner with a square turret above it, turned 45 degrees, with wrought iron railings on the eaves. ‘Gee, what will this bring now?’ I think. The crunching gravel path leads me to three steps and a large, double front door, oak and glossy lacquered.

With a huge bunch of white and red roses in my arms -according to instructions- I ring the doorbell and a typical lesbian in blue striped suit with pink tie opens. “Come loverboy, we were expecting you earlier.” Efficiently she takes the bunch from me “brought vegetables for us? Attentive! I’m Sophie” and leads me through a door into a sunny garden room. The furnishings are as fin de siècle as the house with full sized armchairs and a chaise longue. There is a faint smell, Mediterranean. I see on a sideboard a Lampe Bergier. “Jardin Riviera” she confirms.

Then out of another room comes a young woman not yet 20, shaking her head to let her long dark blonde hair fall nicely over her shoulders, I am dumbfounded. ‘Paulus with tits!’ I think as I see this petite lady approaching me with open arms. “So you are Ben and I am Janna, the marriageable daughter of the house. Shut your mouth and yes, I’m one of Paulus offspring too.” Before I can properly admire her, she presses her body against mine and looks straight into my eyes, just like her father. There is a wiff of sex around her, woman sex, fresh. She puts her lips on mine and forces her tongue inside me, sharing the full taste of pussy with me.

“Marga’s waiting for you” and points to the room, where she just came from. They take me by the hand like a naughty little boy into a spacious front room, where in the center is a four-poster bed with voiles tied open. Around it three couches, as if it were an altar, a small version of the temple?

Like a tableau vivant, the fat lady lies naked against the padded, red velvet headboard in uber-rubensian fullness. Beautiful head, round bosom to get lost in, nipples you wet-dreamed of as a baby, and round belly with a fat apron under which a dark overgrown mound being the beginning of the bermuda triangle of soft flesh in which you lose your cock and balls - your horny soul. She is Paulus’ “fat lady,” but also the Hora, next to Venus. And his sister-in-law, who Paulus and Monique frequently loved together...

“Well you guys have to explain all these complicated relationships to me. It makes me dizzy.”

Marga lay back on the bed, sideways, one leg in front of the other, thighs gleaming, and when she leaned on her elbow, her tits hung sisterly against each other. “Monique and I were inseparable, sleeping together in one bed all our youth and discovering our womanhood in each other’s hands. She is much older than me and I cried for weeks at night when she went to live in a room in the big city to attend art school. After about six weeks, mother put me on the train to spend a weekend with her. She picked me up from the station, along with a boy in a brown, chunky corduroy suit, handsome! with curls, like the one over there” and she points at Janna. ‘This is Paulus, he wants to be my boyfriend, if it’s okay with you’ my sister said, Paulus winked at me hornily, though at the time I didn’t know what that meant.

That night I watched them copulate in their single bed under the covers, writhing in the moonlight. With deep sighs they stopped and after audible kisses Paul got out of bed, half stiff and dripping to grab a ‘kutdoekje’ [pussy patch], as he called it, for between her thighs.

He smiled at me. “You too?”

“Are you kidding, she’s only 12! Maybe in about four years!” said Monique protectively.

I was already an overweight girl by then and embarrassed in my pajamas. “The baby fat never came off” she tapped on her full curves. Paul stroked me over the head “You are beautiful and we have a whole life ahead of us.” He often eyed me from a distance those years. He browsed art books with me about Rubens, full women, all of them. He planted in me the belief, that being full, was explicitly beautiful and that helped me through my fatshame-full teenage years. He was my first and about my only, in those years, in trio with Monique. And I continued to live -on and off- with them.”

Sofie pours me a glass of wine “And much later, when I had just started dating Paulus’ brother Manus, he announced me as his GF to that horny couple. Apparently approved, the five of us spent that weekend in debauched physicality. A course in family-woman sex, so to speak. After four children with Manus and a year in threesome with Margarie, Marga and I got together. And Paul blessed that love with Janna. And Manus and Margarie have also been together for over 20 years now.”

Janna sniffs my crotch and teases me big. “Rhonda told me so, you have a hair-trigger! And can go on endlessly. Maybe I’ll come live in your bed for a while.”

I groan “Already such a sister to you, too. And horny! But how is the story with you going on now?” She points a thumb at a large abstract on the wall “My 18th birthday. Called ‘orgy 18’. Look through your eye hairs.” And indeed, the rough smudges and sketches become the loving parts of joy of at least 7 family members. Paulus!

♀♂♀♀

I kneel down by the lady and she opens her thighs “kiss me” and I now experience what Paulus has captured so precisely, the vulva of everlasting adoration. I caress her bulging belly, so flawless, no stretch marks, nicely constricted at her deep navel. Her nectar flows richly and I want to cum in her, eternally in that soft embrace of her thighs.

Against my will, I am lifted up by both shoulders by the now naked Sophie and Janna, mother (51) and daughter (19), who rapidly undress me. I am returned to my lover, who receives me between her spread thighs and pulls me onto her belly and sideways falling tits. She smiles mouth to mouth and whispers “Monique advised me to take you. Make, there deep inside me, that she is right.”