Chapter 19

Serenity. Rage. My heart sunk. The paintings didn't invoke serenity or rage. I felt nothing but despair when I gazed at them. What happened? How could I have fooled myself so easily? Dad and Barbie, too? The paintings hung side by side on the large family room wall, so they were displayed in an optimum manner, but...

Jason gave me an inquisitive look. He was wondering how he could tell me I'd failed. Then he recognized my distress and realized something was amiss.

"What's wrong, Katy?"

"They don't work. They don't make me feel what I should feel. I don't understand."

He studied the paintings, and suddenly a boyish grin lit up his face. He walked to the paintings and lifted Rage from its nail, and after turning the painting to the wall, he set it on the floor. He stepped back and looped his arm around my waist.

"Better," he muttered while gazing at the painting left hanging on the wall. Like Jason, I took my eyes back to the painting, and a feeling of peace and tranquility washed over me. Serenity was doing its job.

I glanced at Jason. Would he feel serene, too, or... ?

"Oh, Katy!" Sara exclaimed. "I wish I'd had access to this painting during my dark, troubled times. It calms me. I walked into this room with nagging thoughts of pain and mayhem, fantasies about dismembering my ex-husband for what he did to my baby and me. This painting crushed all my negative thoughts... no, that's not correct. It doesn't crush; it disallows negative thoughts. It calms... soothes, makes me feel whole and blissfully content."

"Serenity," Jason muttered reverently. His eyes were shining, and his love for me covered me like a soothing lotion.

"Yes, serenity," Sara said. "Perfect. You should name this painting serenity, Katy."

"That's its name," Dad announced proudly. "Her talent is incredible, Sara. She painted dozens of canvasses, went through a thousand dollars of art supplies, and failed every time, but she didn't give up. She didn't let failure stop her. With her gifts, Katy understands sensations and emotions better than anyone, and she set out to create a painting, a two-dimensional, rectangular piece of canvas, that when taken as a whole, invokes the emotion she strived to represent. Serenity was her first success."

I looped my arm through Dad's and squeezed. Tears flushed my eyes. I turned to Jason. "Why didn't the paintings work... ? Oh, juxtaposed as they were, one cancelled out the other."

"Yep," he said, flashing his boyish grin.

My lover was going to get well and truly laid tonight.

"Let's take a look at the other painting now," Jason said. He removed Serenity from the wall, turned it back to front, and hung Rage.

"Oh!" Sara exclaimed. "Oh, my!"

"Don't fight it, Sara," I said. "Let the emotion sink in. Let it take over."

She gave me a hateful look, the first negative look she'd ever sent my way. I wanted to jump up and down with joy.

Sara took her eyes back to the canvas. "I couldn't live with this painting," she said. "It invokes a deep rage in me. No, it pulls to the surface all the rage I've suppressed all the days of my life. If I lived with this painting, I could become a murderer."

I blinked. Surely she was exaggerating. I let her emotions through, took them to me as if they were my own, and the deep-seated rage that struck me staggered me. She wasn't exaggerating.

"Sara, look at me," I said. She turned her angry eyes toward me, and I could feel her rage slipping away. "Look at the painting again." She did as I asked, and once again unleashed fury slammed into me. "You're right, Sara. You couldn't live with this painting."

"Gary could, though," Sara commented caustically. "He'd be willing to pay big money for this painting."

For some reason, Sara's comment disturbed me almost as much as Rage disturbed her.

How was Rage affecting Jason?

Not like Sara. Oh, he'd felt rage, but like me when I recognized I'd succeeded, other emotions gained control, in Jason's instance, jealousy. He turned to me and smiled, a tentative smile. He was angry, but mostly with himself. He was jealous, and his jealousy pissed him off.

I stepped in front of him and took his face in my hands, forcing him to look into my eyes. "Don't despair," I whispered. "You have greatness in you. You will design magnificent structures, lover. Our art forms are different. That's all."

The pain around his eyes softened, and the jealousy he was feeling dissipated. "No," he said as he pulled me to him. "I'll be a fine architect. I'll design functional buildings, efficient and utilitarian structures that will serve their purposes, so builders will seek me out. I'll be a good architect, but not a great one. I won't innovate, not like you, Katy. My buildings won't make the spirit soar, not like your paintings. I know you know I'm jealous of your talent, of your gifts. Sometimes, I wonder why you love me, but you do. I don't doubt your love. I'm just a man, above average in many respects, but certainly not extraordinary like you, but you love me, and I love you more than I can express, so I will suppress my jealousy. I'll stuff it so deep down inside me it can never surface again, and I'll do the only thing I can do. I'll love you deeply and support your talents, your art and your gifts."

I mashed my mouth to his. I loved him so much at that moment, once again, I wanted to crawl inside him, become a part of him, and I tried.

While we were kissing, I heard my father's thought.

Now I understand why she loves him.

I was bent over pulling down the covers on my bed. I was naked, and Jason was standing behind me, also naked. He was hard and long. How did I know? Because my hands and mouth had made certain he was as hard as he could be.

My posture must have brought to his mind a desire he'd had before - me, too - a desire we'd never consummated. My college boy wanted my ass again, wanted the last vestige of virginity I had to offer him, and if my lover wanted my ass, I'd give it to him.

I crawled up onto the bed and remained on my hands and knees. Looking coyly over my shoulder, at least coyness was my intent, I said, "Doggy style tonight, lover."

He moved onto the bed behind me, and I felt his hands caress the cheeks of my ass.

"Gorgeous," he muttered. "Simply and utterly gorgeous."

His sensitive hands continued to fondle, but he also leaned forward, which effectively pressed his long one between my ass cheeks. My ass cuddled his cock. Nice.

"You know what I want, don't you?" he said as his fingers slipped between my legs and dipped into my weeping cunt.

"Yes. You want to fuck my ass."

"Wrong. I want to make love with your ass."

I suppressed a giggle. I'd heard the term, ass-fuck. Barbie sometimes used it during her sexy mental meanderings. I'd never heard of ass-make-love, but if my college boy wanted to make love with my ass, then that's what I wanted, too.

"All right," I said. "What's the difference between an ass-fuck and making love with an ass?"

"It's all in the execution."

"I thought you said... hmm, that feels good." He'd pulled some of my abundant juices from my pussy to rub over my sphincter. "I thought you said you were an anal virgin, like me."

"I am, but like you, I'm computer literate. Did you know that a search for anal sex on Google produces over 3,600,000 responses?"

"No." I lied. To be more precise, it was 3,660,000 responses on the day I made my search. I'd anticipated this request from Jason, so as suggested by one of the articles on the subject, I'd been practicing. It took a while, but I could now control the interior sphincter muscle, the autonomous one just inside the exterior sphincter muscle. Yep, you guessed it. I used my fingers, usually while showering. At first it felt strange, certainly not arousing except for the nastiness of it, but lately I'd enjoyed the feeling of something inside me back there, and I was eagerly anticipating Jason's long one stuffed in my ass. I just knew I'd love it, especially if he made love with it instead of fucking it. Fucking it wouldn't be all bad, either, I suspected.

"We have a problem," he said.

"What?"

"No KY jelly."

"Oh. Will baby oil do the job?"

"The experts recommend a water-based lubricant, but baby oil should work." Like me, Jason didn't want his reborn desire thwarted.

"In the medicine cabinet in the hall bath. Don't worry about Dad and Sara. The master bedroom is on the other side of the house."

"Okay. I'll get it. Don't go away."

Silly boy. I was about to be well and truly ass fucked, and he thinks I might go away. No, not ass fucked... ah, fuck it. Ass fucking by any other name is still ass fucking. If my college boy wanted to pretty up the act, I'd let him, but I didn't need the deception.

I dipped my fingers in my wet cunt, reached back - it's quite a stretch while on your hands and knees - and pushed a wet finger past the outer sphincter to tickle the inner one. Nice.

I sensed Jason back in the room, and his thoughts told me what he saw excited him. Fuck! That's hot, is what he thought, if you just have to know.

Orgasm freak. Yep, the term described me. Would a cock in my ass turn me on enough to give me an orgasm? Or would my clit need to be played with, too. I suspected the latter, but I was willing to experiment. Boy, oh boy, was I ever willing to experiment!

"Does that feel good?" Jason asked as he climbed back on the bed.

"Uh-huh. I think your finger would feel even better. It's longer, thicker, and well, it's a part of you, which makes it special. Wanna try it?"

I felt oil dribble and slither down the crack of my bum. It was cool, which made me jump a little. I laughed nervously, a giggle actually, but when I felt a finger press against my pucker, my laugh shut down. The pressure increased, so I relaxed and Jason's finger popped into my ass.

"Does this hurt?" he asked.

"Uh-uh. Feels good. I'm really excited about this, lover. Can you fuck me and finger my ass at the same time?

Yeah, he could. I felt his wonderful cock push into my pussy at the same slow speed he pushed his finger into my ass. Would the sensations be similar if two men fucked me at the same time, one in my cunt, the other deep in my ass? More importantly, did I want to fuck two men at the same time?

Yes, I decided, if one of them was Jason, and the other was...

Careful, little missy, I warned myself. You're starting to get an incest fixation.

I backed off the idea. Fantasy was one thing; experiencing Dad's sensations and orgasms when he made love with Sara was another, but actually fucking my father was another matter entirely.

Jason wants to fuck his sister. He calls it a fantasy, but it's a deep-seated desire now. When I first met him, his interest in Sara was merely a fantasy. When did the fantasy turn into desire? After he moved in with her, I figured. Did something happen that changed the sexual dynamics between them, at least for Jason? No. Not likely. Neither of them is adept at hiding thoughts from me.

"I can feel my cock in your pussy with the finger in your ass," Jason said, tentatively.

He wanted to talk about it, but wasn't sure I'd welcome a discussion. What the hey? Go for it.

"Ooh, that's sexy. Could you feel Terry's cock in Jane's ass while you were fucking her cunt?"

His cock jumped in my pussy. Interesting. My question excited him. Worried him, too. He didn't know how to respond.

"Yes," he said, a one-word verbal answer amid a jumbled mass of thoughts.

Push the issue. See where he goes with it.

"Jane liked being double-fucked, huh?"

"Yes." Would you? he thought.

"Maybe. It would depend on the other man. Also, whether I enjoy ass fucking will have a bearing, but we'll have an answer to that question soon. Your finger feels good inside me, Jason. Push it in and out a little. Hmm. Nice. I have a hunch I'm going to adore ass fucking."

"Do you have a man in mind for the double penetration?"

My dad. "No one in particular. For sure, not Terry. I'm getting hot, lover. So are you. Try putting another finger inside me."

He added more baby oil and pressed against the hole with both fingers. I wanted them inside me, but my butt didn't. Relax. Let them in, I told myself. I purposefully breathed deeper and suddenly both fingers popped inside.

I gave a surprised little yelp.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No. The suddenness of the entry surprised me. Push them deeper. Go slowly, though. The second sphincter ring will be the trick."

He laughed softly, which did nice things to his cock in my cunt.

"This is nasty, huh?" I said.

"Yeah, I love it."

"Me, too. Naughty and nasty are exciting."

The second ring gave way to his invading fingers. The nerve endings in and around my ass were doing a delightful dance; sort of like the sexy messages pinching my nipples sends to my cunt.

He pulled the fingers partway out, squirted more baby oil and slowly pushed them back inside. Sweet. He's being careful.

"Why didn't you fuck Jane's ass?"

His cock jumped again.

"I wanted to, but well, Terry is smaller than me. Jane... Jane selected who went where. Are you comfortable talking about this?"

I huffed a laugh. "You're worried about what I'm thinking, why I'm asking so many questions about you and Jane. Don't worry. I love you, Jason, and I know you love me. I'm merely curious. That's all."

"Waddaya think? Are you ready to try the real thing?"