Atlantea

A blissful two weeks passed by; Calista and I were inhabiting a little universe all our own. At her behest, I brought over several changes of clothes, as well as my toiletries, all but abandoning my own apartment.

We went dancing several times each week. Still obsessed with “Strictly Ballroom”, she wanted to try that style, which I was more than happy to facilitate. In years past I had been conscripted to be one of my sister’s ballroom dance partners, so I was already proficient at the Tango, Cha-Cha, and Waltz.

Calista also enjoyed going to bookstores, movie theaters, the gym, post-gym massages, and early-morning hikes in the nearby state parks. We even had fun doing chores together, such as washing dishes, or going to the pharmacy. We fell out of contact with the outside world, beyond showing up at our respective places of work.

Of the many odd aspects of our nascent relationship, perhaps the most singular was our ability to fall sleep together, into what I can only describe as a sort of cocoon-like state. We noticed this phenomenon on the second night that the two of us slept in her bed. It was late, and after hours of passionate intercourse, Calista was about to get up, or rather have me carry her, to go take a shower, as she had on the previous night. My flaccid penis was fully lodged inside her. She was drenched in sweat, more so than I’d ever witnessed on another person.

“Um, this might seem kinda weird,” I said, “But could you wait until morning to shower?”

“Jason, I am covered in perspiration!”

“I know, and if you’re too uncomfortable to give it a try, of course that’s fine. But there is something kinda flower-like about how you smell right now.”

“That is unexpected; growing up, another of the derisive nicknames my cousins bestowed upon me was related to my bodily odor after exercise.”

“All I can say is it smells and tastes sweet to me; the thought of you washing it all off seems, I dunno, sad.”

“Tell me, male, what precisely do I smell like to you?”

“It’s hard to say … roses, maybe?”

Calista laughed.

“‘That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet; So Jason would, were he not Jason call’d, retain that dear perfection which he owes, without that title. Jason, doff thy name, and for that name which is no part of thee, take all myself.'”

I only dimly realized she was riffing on a line from a Shakespeare play; I could not recall which one.

“Is there anything you don’t know?” I asked, marveling.

“It is merely a lucky coincidence,” she said modestly, “I played the part of Juliet in a school production, during what you would call high school.”

“Who played Romeo?”

Excited by her display of intellectual prowess, I had begun to nibble and kiss her left earlobe.

“A girl named Athena, as it was. Suitably ‘wrapped’, shall we say, as she was heavy in the bust, even by local standards. Now stop that, male,” she said, referring to my ear-play, “or you will roust my libido again.”

A few beats went by, then Calista continued.

“In any case. I am willing to attempt to sleep in this position. But if I become too uncomfortable, and it keeps me awake, I shall request that you carry me to the bathroom to wash myself.”

“Deal!”

Calista slid her long legs back between mine, and snaked her ankles around, such that I was locked in place. She then gathered my hands in front of her, intertwined her fingers in mine, and pulled me forward, plastering my chest into her soaking wet back.

“If you like my perspiration so much, the least you can do is to keep me warm, male.”

Within three minutes she was softly snoring. Every so often, her pussy contracted around me, in its unique, front-to-back rolling fashion. I lay away for about ten minutes, certain that I would have to disengage from her before being able to fall asleep myself. Under normal circumstances, I thrash around a lot before falling asleep, something my former partners pointed out often. But I was unsure how to actually accomplish that. Her powerful legs would be impossible to break free from, unless I woke her up, and furthermore, my penis was too long to withdraw fully from within her vagina; I lacked the range of motion to move my hips back far enough.

As I lay there, I unconsciously began to take deeper and deeper breaths, sucking in from my diaphragm. With each inhalation, I took in more of the heady, rose-like scent of her perspiration, until, eventually, all I could think about was an image of a light red rosebud.

I awoke with a start, certain that only a few minutes had passed since the rose dream, but daylight was streaming around the blinds. Impossibly, we were in the same position that we had been in the night before. Calista was snoring softly, and her vagina was still pulsing from time to time. My cock felt like it was coated with something slimy, and I wondered if I had somehow ejaculated inside her during the night. A small puddle of cum had gathered on the sheet under her left hip.

Calista proved difficult to wake up. I could only move a little, and as I levered my chest back, I found that our skin had adhered overnight. Separating our bodies felt like pulling off a strip of medical tape, and I was thankful that I had no chest hairs to rip out. Still breathing heavily, Calista whined faintly and snuggled back against me.

“Calista,” I said, at last, “I think it might be time to get up.”

She responded with a purring sound, and only after a few more attempts did she finally open her left eye.

“Bad male, let me sleep,” she said, closing her eye again.

“I think we’ll be late for work,” I chided.

“As you wish, then, cruel taskmaster!” she said, pouting.

She untangled her legs from mine, and it felt like she was pulling off an enormous adhesive bandage when our skin disengaged.

“I believe our sexual organs copulated of their own accord, overnight,” Calista observed, as she levered her pussy off of my cock.

Sure enough, as the tip of my penis exited her vaginal opening, a torrent of sperm flooded out after it.

“Perhaps twice, I think,” she added.

Calista was sitting, cross-legged, on the bed, spreading her outer vagina lips with her fingers, and bending forward to observe. Both of our sex organs were crusted with dried semen.

“Are you normally such a good sleeper?” I asked. “Because I’m definitely not. I think that’s the first time I’ve woken up in the same position I went to sleep in, maybe in my entire life. Except this one night I had the flu real bad.”

“I have always suffered from insomnia, myself,” Calista said. “There is something about your proximity that appears to have a soporific effect on me. When we are not engaging in vaginal intercourse, that is.”

* * *

Neither of us had spent so much time with any one person before, at least not a comparative stranger. Thinking back to my time with Meg, my most serious partner, I could not recall a period where we were together every possible moment, as Calista and I had been for nearly fourteen days.

Each evening, we went to bed in the same position as we had on that second night, and every morning we woke up with cum-covered sex organs. If anything, the effects of sleeping together in this manner became more extreme as the days went by. I found that after she wrapped her legs behind mine, and I began to inhale her scent more deeply, I was no longer able to stay awake for anywhere close to ten minutes, even if I tried. The rosebud dream would come to me moments after I closed my eyes. In the morning, likewise, we both noticed that the volume of cum to leak from her pussy was increasing, as was the side of the puddle that would inevitably accumulate around her hip.

“It would appear our bodies are adapting to each other,” Calista mused. “We do not need to be awake to have vaginal intercourse. I believe the volume of semen leaking from my canal indicates three, or possibly four, ejaculations took place last night.”

Similarly, the adhesive effect that her perspiration caused between our skin had grown stronger. Separating our bodies in the morning became almost painful, after the first week, although fortunately the effect did not continue to get any worse from there.

Even during working hours, we texted each other frequently, resulting in nearly round-the-clock contact. Both of us brought up the concern that we might be taking things too far, too fast, in our relationship, but, somehow, whenever there came a natural opportunity to part for a while, neither felt like it.

As the third week of our relationship began, I detected a slight change in Calista’s demeanor. One of the many factors behind our mutual appeal was the degree to which, despite being so new to each other, we could read each other’s moods and intentions. I could tell she was worrying about something, but she deflected whenever I asked. Since she was not forthcoming, I developed the theory that she did, after all, feel a need to take a break from me, and was simply being reluctant to hurt my feelings.

“I need to take my car to the shop,” I said one day. “You’re welcome to come with me, but it’s going to be pretty dull, so I won’t be offended if you wanna do something else.”

The old car needed an oil and brake fluid change, but I could have put these items off. My true intention was to give Calista a plausible excuse to take time for herself.

“I would rather join you,” she said. “It sounds interesting.”

On the ride to the shop, we fell into a long, meandering conversation. It ranged from discussing grad student life, to a debate about whether Donovan Sargeant, the UFC fighter, was underrated, to talking about sex, and then, strangely, talking about Australian mammals and marsupials. This was typical for us.

Once at the shop, Calista asked if she could see the area where the automobiles were repaired. Although there was a clearly posted sign marked “Employees Only Beyond This Point” next to the door to the work bays, the burly man behind the counter was only too happy to let my gorgeous companion through. He pointedly checked out her curvy ass as she disappeared thru the doorway. Once inside, she seemed fascinated by the tools hanging on the wall, the hydraulic lifts, and the half-assembled vehicles. Several mechanics gathered around her, more than happy to satisfy her curiosity.

* * *

In the evening, after we had returned to her apartment, I finally found out what was bothering her. When I did, it felt like I had been hit on the forehead by a two-by-four.

We were sitting on couch watching Netflix on the large flat-screen TV, Calista lying with her head resting on my chest, with her legs extended out in front of her, between my own. My phone, which I had neglected to silence earlier, emitted a meowing ringtone that indicated the Twins just texted me.

“What is that?”

“Whoops, I forgot to silence it,” I said, pausing the show.

We were watching “The Witcher”, and the hero, Geralt, was presently naked, with his lover and sometime nemesis Yennefer having cast a spell of control on him. I picked up my phone from the cushion next to me to check out their message. Of course, both of us could read it.

“What does ‘booty call’ mean?” Calista asked.

I was not worried that she would be upset; I had already explained what the Twins and I had gotten up to in the past, without leaving out any particulars. I am sure she also had a rough idea what “booty call” signified, and was, instead, curious about the etymology of the term.

“Oh, it’s just slang, maybe African-American? For getting together for sex,” I explained. “I’ll say ‘no’, of course.”

I felt her body go rigid. My heart began to race.

“Why would you say ‘no’?” she said, her voice taking on an edge I had never heard before.

“You and I seem pretty serious, so, I guess I don’t want to mess anything up?”

“Why would that ‘mess up’ our relationship?” she asked, frostily.

I knew, from experience, when a fight was about to start, but I was still mystified about what the underlying problem might be.

“Y’know, when people get serious, they usually, y’know, don’t see other people,” I explained.

“Is that what this is about?”

“Yeah, I mean, we are having such a good time together, I don’t wanna ruin it.”

“So you are ignoring your friends? Does that seem healthy, to you?”

“I think they would understand.”

“Perhaps. But I, for one, do not understand. Where I come from, the idea of exclusive relationships is considered exceedingly … undesirable, bordering on immoral.”

She lifted off of me, then sat back down, next to me, so that she could make eye contact.

“I think this is as good a time as any will be,” she said. “You have been asking me if something is wrong, and your perceptions are correct. I have a date with a man from work in a few days. I do not feel serious about him the way I do with you, but he is beautiful, and I am curious what it will be like to have vaginal intercourse with him. Of course, unlike with you, we will use prophylaxis. I suspected this would upset you, and was unsure how broach the subject.”

“What?” I said, unable to keep rising anger from my voice, even as I knew I was being ridiculous; what right did I have to expect someone to be exclusive to me after only a few weeks?

She took my hands.

“Jason, I am not seeking your permission in any way.”

“I never said you needed to!” I interrupted, voice now fiery.

“It is obvious that it is upsetting you, and the implication of ignoring your friends’ call for sexual activity is that you consider it immoral for a serious couple to have other sexual partners.”

“I…” I began, but was not actually sure what I thought, I simply felt an iron grip around my heart.

“Jason,” she began again. “I would not be saying any of this if I did not feel … strongly about you. I have never experienced anything of this nature before.”

“I haven’t either!” I interrupted, hoping to justify my anger.

She smiled wanly, but continued before I could launch into my own exposition.

“For this reason, I believe the question of polyamory must be settled now. As painful as it would be to part from you now, that is nothing compared to the trauma it would cause both of us to split up after becoming yet closer.”

“Who even is this guy?” I could not help but blurt out.

“That is my business,” she said curtly, “although I will be happy to inform you about our activities afterwards.”

I did not know what to say, I simply felt anger coursing through my veins. The smarter part of me knew this to be irrational, but the best these better angels of mine could do was to get me to shut up.

“Jason,” she continued, “much as I do not wish it, I believe the best course of action is for us to separate until Friday. By that time, I will have copulated with my colleague. I strongly urge you to see your friends and have sexual relations with them. If our relationship is to blossom, it will not be sufficient for you to simply tolerate my polyamorous nature without taking part yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you do not embrace polyamory for yourself, it will create … toxicity between us. You will become a sort of, what is the word?” she thought for a moment. “You will become a martyr.”

Wordlessly, I got up and walked to the front door.

“I truly hope to see you on Friday,” she called to my retreating back, unable to keep sadness out of her voice.

As I exited the parking garage of Calista’s building, I felt a mixture of loneliness, rage, depression and self-pity. Being apart from her was already eating away at me, akin to having a limb removed. Yet at the same time, images of some virile hunk of a man pounding away at my beloved, flashed unbidden in front of my mind’s eye, and nothing I could do could get them to go away. It seemed so unfair, her springing this on me, before our relationship had a chance to deepen.

I texted the Twins back, deciding at last to accept their offer. It seemed like if things were going to work out between Calista and me, I would be doing this anyway. And if our relationship was doomed, I might as well at least enjoy myself. We agreed to meet at their condo the following evening, a Tuesday.

That night, alone in my bed for the first time in weeks, I thrashed around for hours, not falling asleep until after 3AM, when utter exhaustion finally overtook me. Not only was I endlessly cycling through the events of the day, I found it hard to relax at all without being near Calista. My room smelled stale, compared to the flower scent she gave off when sweaty, and I felt oddly unsettled, like all of my muscles were slightly sore, and no position felt comfortable for long.

* * *

Even with nearly twenty-four hours to recover from my argument with Calista, I was still upset and emotional when ushered in through the Twins’ front door. The beautiful, fully naked women had decided to dye their delta-shaped bushes a vibrant blond color. Just looking at them gave me a raging erection. I began to take off my pants, but by the time I’d gotten them down below my knees, my penis sticking straight out, Alicia held out an arm, palm facing me, indicating I should stop.

“Ooh, he’s vibin’, Rube!” she said.

“Negative energy central,” Ruby confirmed.

“What’s goin’ on, Tee?” Alicia continued, “You get in a fight with KGB Girl?”

“KGB… What?” I asked.

“Your new lady friend,” Ruby clarified.

I explained the nature of my argument with Calista. Both women put their arms down by their sides, which had formerly been on their hips, and their faces adopted a serious mien.

“And you thought you could come here for a sympathy fuck?” Ruby said.

“No, I–“, I stammered.

“Don’t lie, Tee. And next time, don’t bring your martyr ass here just ‘cuz you think you own some woman’s vagina.”

There was that word again, “martyr”.

“I–“, I tried again to interject, now angrier than ever.

“Zzt zzt zzt!” Alicia said, imitating a bee. “Stop talking. And get out. We ain’t your fucking therapists!”

Storming out of someone’s residence can be difficult to pull off, with dignity, even at the best of times. It is nearly impossible to do with your pants down below your knees and your dick hanging out in front of you. Humiliated, I got myself dressed, turned around, and left. I felt too lame, by this point, even to slam the door behind me.

I drove home but elected not to climb the stairs back up to my cheap, lonely apartment. Instead, I wandered the city on foot for hours. I was paying little attention to my surroundings, replaying endlessly, in my mind, the argument with the Twins, the argument with Calista, and what seemed like a personal, internal sex tape of her having sex with her new fuck buddy.

Sometime around midnight, I found myself in front of a warehouse, looking out over a major waterway that ran thru the city. A thick fog had rolled in, lending a surreal air to my surroundings. I took a deep, cool breath, and for the first time since leaving Calista’s apartment, felt a semblance of rationality. I needed to talk to Phoebe.

“P,” I wrote on my phone, “Calista and I had a fight. I’m struggling — do you have time to meet after work tomorrow or something?”

Phoebe must have been asleep, or unsure how to respond, because I did not hear from her until the next morning. Being in bed before midnight was unusual for her; my best guess was that being pregnant was making her too tired to indulge her night-owl ways.

* * *

“Sure,” read the text I received the next morning, “swing by after eight if ya want.”

When I arrived that evening, Phoebe led me to the woodworking room, which had once been a garage. I tried to talk on the way there, but she held up a hand. Once we entered the shop, I again tried to open my mouth, and again she stopped me. Instead, she started to disrobe. To my surprise, she took off every article of clothing. Normally, except when her wife made her, she only removed her top.

She looked radiantly beautiful, standing before me. Her pregnancy was starting to show around the belly. Her large breasts looked swollen, and her skin seemed to be giving off a ripe glow, although I’m not sure if that was just my imagination. Without a word, she climbed onto the special bench she had created to enable throat fucking, leaned her head back along the padded, downwards-slowing head rest, opened her mouth, and motioned for me to come over.

I dropped my trousers and boxer shorts and slid my penis past her open lips. Using the leverage obtained from my purchase on the hand grips she had constructed for me, I pushed with my hips, lodging my cock fully down her throat in a single, swift action. My balls were hanging over her nose and eyes. The sensation was unique, and it occurred to me how crazy it would be to give up on this experience, in perpetuity, just for the sake of an exclusive relationship. I did not move for several minutes, simply enjoying the sensation of her tongue on the base of my shaft, her lips on my skin, and the feeling of her esophagus wrapped around the tip. Then I began to move, keeping my strokes short, never pulling out more than a few inches before thrusting back in. After ten minutes of this, I began feeling a boiling sensation in my testes, and knew I was close to climaxing. She tapped me on the butt with one hand, our signal that she needed me to stop, and despite my rising passion, I pulled out immediately.

“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice full of concern.

“I’m fine,” she gasped, “I just gotta pee real bad. Have I mentioned being pregnant sucks?”

She dismounted the bench and walked towards the half-bathroom that was attached to the wood shop. I was admiring the radiant skin on her well-toned, generous rear, when she looked back over her shoulder at me.

“You can come with me,” she said, “I know you’ll enjoy the view.”

I followed her into the bathroom, my erect cock bouncing with each step. As Calista had done with me, many times by this point, Phoebe sat on the toilet and spread her legs wide.

“You won’t be able to see from there,” she said, “I got too much bush. If you wanna get a closer look go ahead.”

I knelt on the floor and could just barely make out her fat pussy lips through the thicket of brown hair, which completely covered her sex and also extended down her inner thighs. She began to pee, a powerful, clear jet of scentless fluid.

“Do you need to go too?” she asked.

“Actually, yes.” I said.

“Lemme help ya soften up, then!”

She motioned for me to stand upright, and then pulled me towards herself, mouth open. I put my hands behind her head and began mercilessly fucking her face, stroking all the way in and out, my cock somehow bending and pushing far down past her tonsils. I did not understand how she could stand the pressure it must put on the upper wall of her throat. About five minutes into this, she had to pee again, no doubt some side effect of being knocked up. Since she was already sitting on the toilet, she simply let loose, and when I heard that sound, I lost my mind and my cock began disgorging load after load of cum down her esophagus. Despite the backlog of sperm, she swallowed it all easily, without any coming out of her nose or dribbling down from her lips.

“Next time in my mouth, okay?” she rasped. “Also, do you mind if we stay here for the rest of the evening? I can tell I’m gonna keep needin’ to go, and it’ll be awkward to keep getting up from the bench. Have I mentioned pregnancy really sucks?”

“Yes, and yes,” I croaked out. “And … lastly: yes, I think you did mention pregnancy sucks. Sorry about that!”

“It is, basically, your fault, you know, dude,” she chided.

In a move that reminded again me of Calista, Phoebe insisted on aiming my now-flaccid cock for me, as I started to pee. At one point, she briefly lost her concentration and some urine hit her vagina. She seemed undisturbed.

“Oops!” she said with a chortle.

Without cleaning it up at all, she put my spent cock back into her mouth, and sucked until I was hard again. Fifteen minutes later, with the head of my cock right above her tongue, she let loose another torrent of pee. As it had the first time, I found this far too erotic, lost control, and soon her mouth was filled with my semen. We repeated this sequence twice more, then returned to the wood shop.

“Okay,” Phoebe said, still fully nude, “Now you can tell me what’s on your mind. You were way too keyed up before. Also, is it okay if I keep my clothes off? I’ve been just burning up lately, and it’s so darn hot outside. Have I mentioned that pregnancy sucks?

“I think you may have mentioned that, once or twice. And as far as I’m concerned, you don’t ever need to keep your clothes on around me.”

“Didn’t think it’d be a big problem for ya, but had ta ask.”

It took around an hour, including periodic pee breaks, to explain everything to Phoebe. I had not talked to her much since getting serious with Calista, so I first filled her in on our growing relationship, sparing no details, including the fact that Calista had probably saved my life on the dark street near the salsa club.

“Wow, that is scary. Did you call the police?” Phoebe asked.

“No, Calista said she turned the matter over to her embassy, or something like that.”

“She sounds fuckin’ amazing, by the way, she’s like your sexy lady ninja bodyguard!” Phoebe gushed.

Next, I went over our dispute about polyamory, as well as the Twins’ negative reaction to my hang-dog appearance at their condo.

“I can’t say I disagree with the Twins,” Phoebe said at last, “it sounds like you were going through some pretty serious denial and self-pity there, buddy.”

“I’m starting to come around to that way of thinking. It’s just, when I think about Callie and that guy, it’s like my heart physically feels like it’s being smashed by a brick.”

“That’s how Rosie feels about me having sex with other women, for what that’s worth. And I agreed to go along with her, because I love her, and it’s worth it to me. So it would be kinda hypocritical for me to tell you what the right thing is. But I would say our society is really fucked up, and the idea that men own women, and especially their vaginas, is deeply deeply ingrained, in, like, frickin’ everything. So while I think Rosie just has jealousy issues based on how she grew up an’ shit, are you really the jealous type? Or is your mind just, well, poisoned by the patriarchy, y’know? To be blunt.”

I just sat there staring at her. She seemed to have distilled the problem perfectly. If I were merely jealous, and, like Rosalind, unable to get over it, either Calista would have to willingly give up on polyamory, an unlikely outcome, or else our relationship would eventually collapse. In that case, the sane course of action would be to break up now. On the other hand, if my present feelings were based on having grown up in our male-dominated civilization, then I could get over it, and in fact would embrace doing so. We sat in silence for a while as we both pondered the matter.

“Phoebe, I think you hit the nail on the head. And, I don’t think I’m the jealous type, not really. Like, when I caught Meg and Derek in our bedroom, I was mad, but not really jealous.”

“Fair, but you two weren’t getting along by that point anyway; I’m not sure you really even loved her at all any more,” Phoebe countered.

“Maybe,” I said. “But also, thinking about growing up, I just don’t remember feeling jealous much, and I was the youngest kid, who got the least amount of attention from my parents. They definitely were not the types to baby their youngest, either. And my sisters basically pampered and spoiled me all the time, so I don’t recall feeling competitive with them. I mean, you know me better than anyone, do you think I’m jealous?”

“I’ve been playing devil’s advocate, so far. But honestly? No, I think you’re just, like many people, fucked up by our stupid-ass culture.”

“It’s a relief to hear that! If that’s what my deal is, it might be hard, but I can get over it.”

“I believe you can, too,” she said, “And if you want my advice, you’d be a fool not to work things out with Calista. You two have insane chemistry.”

“You think?”

“Seriously. Remember how my wife hustled everyone away when you first met? It was like you could frickin’ see the connection between you guys hanging in the air. Now that you’ve filled me in on the last two weeks, I think we might have here a gen-u-ine case of love at first sight, and I’ve never even believed in that.”

“I hope you’re right. And I am going to try this polyamory thing.”

“Dude, you’re already doing the ‘polyamory thing’, I just swallowed four loads of your sperm.”

“Right,” I said, blushing.

“So, are we good on the Magical Dyke Friend advice session? ‘Cuz I got some other shit to talk about.”

“Yeah, you’ve been like a literal angel sent from Heaven,” I said, now a bit embarrassed by my self-centered neediness, “A gay angel.”

Phoebe snorted.

“Okay, good … ‘cuz I was going to ask a favor from ya; are you okay with resuming our Saturday sessions?”

Once she brought this up, I realized how much I’d missed the light bondage role-play with Phoebe and Rosalind. On top of that, I needed to embrace precisely this type of opportunity to have any hope of establishing a healthy relationship with Calista.

“Absolutely! Although maybe not always on Saturdays.”

“Phew!” Phoebe said. “She’d kill me if I told you this, but Rosie really misses you.”

“She does?” I asked, genuinely confused. “We’ve always got along well, but she’s also pretty blase around me.”

“Well, maybe I should say she misses, ahem, a specific part of you,” Phoebe clarified. “And she is really, really grumpy about it. Can you believe she’s been buying sex toys the same size as your dick? And they’re frickin’ spendy!”

“You’re kidding!” I said.

“I’m not. One of them even can simulate an ejaculation, complete with a pump and fake semen, but she complains it’s not the same.”

“That’s a surprise; I always have a condom on when she’s, uh, riding me.”

“You can say ‘fucking’, I won’t be offended,” Phoebe said with a laugh. “She says she can feel the warmth of yer sperm even through the rubber. You should have seen the expression on her face when I started pumping in the fake stuff! Not a happy spouse.”

“Alright, I’m sold, sign me up!”

“Thank you buddy!” Phoebe said, with genuine relief. “Also, could you see if Calista could get more of that mega Viagra from Rhea?”

“Sure! But couldn’t you get it from her just as easily? And what will we need it for?”

“Well, to answer your second question first, that’s gonna be a surprise,” Phoebe said, grinning. “And as for the first question, it’s weird, but Rhea’s kinda dropped outta contact. So I thought maybe Calista would have better luck getting a hold of her.”

“No problem, I’ll ask her,” I said, and then thought of something that had been itching at the back of my mind, “Oh yeah, there’s a Caps game tomorrow. Wanna meet at the bar?”

“C-A-P-S!” she bellowed.

* * *

I texted Calista on Friday morning. It was our first contact since I had stormed out of her apartment at the beginning of the week.

“Meet at ur place after work?” I wrote.

“Yes — 6?” came her reply; I was gratified that it arrived within seconds.

I had trouble concentrating at school that day, and was filled with a mixture of relief and trepidation when, at the appointed hour, I rang the doorbell outside her apartment. Calista opened the door. She looked as beautiful to me as ever, wearing a flimsy cotton tank top that did little to hide her cleavage, a tight black skirt, her sexy black glasses, and nothing else. I could see from her face that she was as worried and anxious as I was. I stepped inside.

“Jason,” she said, walking towards me, and was about to continue when I interrupted her.

“No, let me go first this time,” I said, holding up my hand. “I want to apologize for how I reacted the other day.”

“I have been feeling regretful about surprising you with that; I believe that was my fault.”

“Maybe, but I can understand how hard it was for you to bring it up at all. Look, I have thought a lot about what you said, and deep down I think I am completely okay with polyamory, and in fact I believe in it, too, when I’m being rational. It is just that I am a product of this screwed-up society, and it will take me time to adjust.”

“Do you really mean that?” she said, hope lighting up her face like a beacon.

“I do. When you told me about your date, it felt like my heart was being squeezed by, like, a snake or something. But I don’t believe this to be something I can’t change. I’m not really a jealous person; I know that, in my heart, and Phoebe thinks so too, and she knows me better than anyone.”

She rushed forward and hugged me tightly.

“I missed you every moment we were apart,” she said.

“I did too.”

We hugged silently for a while, not moving from where we had been standing.

“Would you mind telling me about your date with the man from work? It might be difficult for me to hear, but also good for me to listen openly to as much detail as you’re comfortable sharing,” I asked at last.

We sat down and Calista crawled into my lap, putting her arms around my neck and looking at me with her bewitching gray eyes. She proceeded to describe the evening she had with Laurent, the attractive man who worked at the same defense contractor where she was on assignment as a consultant. They had dinner at St. Croix IX, a French restaurant downtown with a reputation for having the city’s best wine list. He chose individual glasses of wine that expertly matched their multi-course meal. Their conversation was fun, if light. It sounded wonderful. She then described returning to his place for sex.

“I think your penis has ruined my vagina,” she complained, before describing the sex they had together, “It has stretched it out even more, and it was large to begin with.”

“That’s at least partly your fault for never letting me take it out!” I chided her.

“Hm,” she said, “that reminds me, I am tired of waiting. Please take off your clothes before I describe the remainder of my evening.”

She stood up and removed every article of her own clothing; she was now wearing only her black glasses. I undressed as well, and sat back down on the couch. My penis was rock hard from when she complained about its having changed the shape of her pussy. Calista rubbed herself a few times to make sure she was wet, then climbed back onto my lap, this time facing me. Within seconds, her vagina had fully subsumed my cock, whose tip was pressing lightly on her cervix.

“Oh, that is much, much better,” she purred, then continued her narrative.

Laurent, whose penis was only slightly longer than average, and not particularly wide, had been disappointed to learn he was going to have to use a condom, even for oral sex. He became even more displeased once they began to fuck. With his dick clad in a rubber, he derived little sensation while moving inside her capacious pussy.

“Even when I contracted my vaginal muscles to their fullest extent, he seemed displeased,” she complained.

At first, I felt a sense of elation as she described the underwhelming sexual encounter, as it meant that making love to me was just that much more special. Listening to her sad voice, however, I suddenly felt bad for having thought in such a toxic way.

“I’m sorry, Calista,” I said, “for a second there I was happy to learn that sex with me is better. But that was childish, and I am sorry it was not more fun, for both of you. I hope your next sex friend will please you more, and enjoy it more himself.”

I hoped she could read me well enough to know I was being sincere. She confirmed this by hugging me tightly.

“Words cannot express how pleased I am to hear you say that. And it was not a surprise, to be honest,” she said. “It happens, I would estimate, over sixty percent of the time, when I have vaginal intercourse with a new male. Especially, when, like Laurent, they do not wish to use the penis sleeve.”

“For what it’s worth this ‘male’ here would be happy to use a sleeve, if you really wanted him to.”

As I said this, my cock pulsed inside her.

“Do not dare!” she said, swatting my shoulder playfully, “You have already stretched my vagina out far enough, bad male.”

“I’m still sayin’ that’s mostly your fault.”

“Bad male! Now tell me about your sexual experiences with your friends.”

* * *

I first described the scathing castigation I received from the Twins. I didn’t leave anything out, even the ones that made me look foolish or self-indulgent. Calista burst out laughing, and with each gasp I felt her vagina tighten around me.

“That is … hilarious,” she said, when I described having to pull up my pants before attempting to storm out of their apartment.

Next I described the oral sex with Phoebe, as well as our subsequent conversation, again leaving nothing out.

“She shares the same proclivity for urinating in your presence that I do,” Calista commented. “Also, I do not understand how it is anatomically possible for her to fit your penis all the way down her esophagus. And that reminds me, I was hoping to ask you for one more thing.”

My heart lurched suddenly, unsure if another hammer blow was about to fall on our budding relationship.

“I do not think I will see Laurent again, and it may be some time before I find another male sex partner. Do you think I could join you with your friends, in the interim?”

The roller-coaster of emotions I was feeling seemed like it might kill me. Suddenly my heart was soaring again.

“I can feel that,” Calista added, as my cock answered her question for her. “Should I understand that to mean ‘yes’?”

“I’d have to ask them, but I would love to have you join in.”

“Oh, wonderful,” she said, and released her lower lip.

“Do you like having sex with women?” I asked.

“I am not attracted to women in a sexual manner, but I do think women can be handsome, and enjoy giving pleasure to them. I enjoy receiving pleasure from women, as well. It would be … unusual to feel otherwise, even for heterosexual women like myself, in my country.”

“Understood.” I said. “I should ask, too … in both cases my, uh, friends, tend to run everything. Would you be okay with that?”

“What do you mean?” she said.

“You’re not, shall we say, the most submissive person.”

“That is an understatement, Jason. I am not submissive at all. Are you saying I would have to take part in bondage of some type?”

“No! But you would have to, y’know, let the Twins direct things.”

“That is acceptable. What about Rosalind and Phoebe?”

“If it’s just Phoebe and me, you can just be yourself, although I suspect that if you are naked then Rosalind will insist that Phoebe wear a blindfold, and not touch you. If Rosalind is there, I think you’d have to agree to be her assistant, or maybe some kind of ‘client’, or it would not work for her.”

“Would the ‘assistant’ or ‘client’ have to submit to being bound?”

“I don’t think so, you’d just have to do what she said, but I think you’d be on top of every one else, so to speak. I’m pretty sure she would go easy on you.”

“That is also acceptable,” she said in a monotone, after thinking for a moment.

Her vagina squeezed around me, with its unique rolling motion, giving away the anticipation her tone of voice had been hiding.

“Now I can tell you’re really excited,” I said, and she blushed.

“Oh yeah, can you get some more super Viagra from Rhea?” I asked. “Phoebe hasn’t been able to get in touch with her, and they have some secret reason why we’ll need it next time.”

“Super Viagra?” Calista asked, brow furrowed.

I described the funny paste-like substance Rhea had obtained, which had fueled my ability to impregnate seven women in one night.

“Oh, I know the substance you are referring to,” Calista said, “I can acquire some.”

I didn’t pay much attention to her phrasing at the time, but much later it dawned on me that she did not specifically say she’d get the drug from Rhea.

* * *

Calista and I were waiting outside the Twins’ door. Calista was clad in form-fitting white exercise attire, the top far too sheer to hide her erect nipples, and the bottom accentuating her curvy ass and puffy pussy lips. The Twins, nude as always, opened the door to let us in. Today the apartment was spotlessly clean, perhaps in honor of our special guest. The night before, I had texted Ruby to try to get back into their good graces.

“Booty call?” I wrote, then added, “My head has been firmly removed from my own ass, btw.”

“We’ll think about it,” came the reply, about ten minutes later.

I was expecting this.

“Also, could I bring Calista with me?”

“KGB?! Shit, chicho, that’s all you had to say!” she replied. “Seeya tomorrow night!”

“Just so you know, no anal anything for her please,” I added.

“5×5”, she texted.

* * *

When they opened the door, the Twins were fully naked, as always. Their precisely-trimmed triangles of pubic hair were both still dyed an identical, bright blond color, and their skin had a ruddy glow to it that I had not had time to appreciate the last time I had seen them; no doubt a side effect of pregnancy. Alicia’s belly had a barely perceptible mound to it, whereas Ruby was not showing yet.

“Kay!” Ruby said, “Nice ta seeya, chica!”

Mercurial as ever, and probably still mad at me, I did not appear to merit a greeting.

“Jason, why did she just refer to me as ‘K’? I spell my name with a ‘C’, in English.”

“Ah”, I said sheepishly, “it stands for KGB, and, I wouldn’t bother asking them why, they’ll never give you a straight answer.”

“We’re standing right here, y’know!” Alicia said, hands on hips.

“KGB is a perceptive nickname, in a way,” Calista said, surprising me, “I approve. At any event, you did not tell me how handsome your friends are, naughty male!” Calista chided me, lightly punching my shoulder.

“‘Handsome’? Dontcha mean ‘beautiful’?” Alicia asked.

“I am sorry, I have trouble with that phraseology. In my native language the words are reversed.”

“Can’t you just reverse them back when ya speak English?” Ruby asked, quizzically.

“It is harder than it sounds, because the word we use to describe masculine beauty is the same one we use to describe, say, a beautiful flower, or a beautiful painting. In English, you do not call a flower handsome, for instance.”

The Twins looked bored with this academic explanation.

“Did Tee tell you the rule?” Ruby asked, changing the subject.

“What is ‘Tee’?” Calista asked.

“It’s what they call me. It’s short for Toy,” I explained.

“Ah. Also apt,” she said with a grin.

“Rule number one is: this is not a clothing optional household, this is a clothing not allowed at all household,” Alicia explained, making a swirling motion.

Unabashed, Calista stripped, albeit slowly, out of her clingy exercise clothes.

“Oh. My. God. Are those real?” Ruby exclaimed, as Calista squirmed out of her top.

“Real? What do you mean?”

“Your boobs, honey, those … they can’t be natural!”

“They are perfectly natural,” Calista said. “When I was growing up, my sisters nicknamed me ‘missile chest’. Which was prophetic, as it turns out, because I am presently working on radio frequency electronics for missile guidance systems.”

The Twins both burst out laughing.

“Can I feel them?” Alicia asked.

“Of course.”

Alicia approached my girlfriend and put her two small hands on the taller woman’s massive left boob, lifting it and letting it fall, squeezing, and then massaging.

“Rube, you have to try this, she’s not kidding, these babies are genuine!”

Her wife was too busy to take this advice right away. She had circled around to inspect Calista’s toned ass.

“No, you gotta see this first, babe. It’s like a shelf back here. I could serve your breakfast on it!”

Alicia reluctantly let go of Calista’s breast to see if her wife was exaggerating.

“Holy shit! You weren’t fuckin’ kidding!” she said. “Kay G, can we touch?”

“You may.”

The twins began to fondle Calista’s ass, oohing and aahing every so often as they lifted it up and let it bounce back into place, explored the clearly defined line where it met her upper hamstrings, and squeezed her firm musculature. I was worried she might become offended, but throughout the inspection, Calista had a patient, beatific smile. The Twins circled back around front, like worker bees buzzing around their queen, and each took a breast, Alicia on the left, Ruby on the right. Soon both women were sucking on a nipple and massaging with both hands. Being on the shorter side, they had an easy time with the angles, even though everyone was still standing up. Calista began to moan audibly.

“Wow, I ain’t never seen a reaction like that!” Ruby said, between sucks on my girlfriend’s massive, conical nipple flesh.

I was just standing there, ignored, buck naked and hairless from the neck down. I had continued to see Marta regularly and had started even to get used to her uncompromising, harsh technique, as well as to the feeling of having no body hair below the neck. My cock was extended out in front of me, rock hard at the sight of two pretty women suckling on my girlfriend’s boobs. Calista looked at me, and without needing to use words, I could tell she was asking if she should try to get me more involved. I waved my hand in a dismissive gesture; I knew that the mercurial Twins needed to be in charge, and I just had to wait for them to get around to involving me in the sex play.

Ruby came over to me at last and took my penis in her hand, then dragged me into the bedroom, and had me lie down in my customary spot on the right-hand side of the bed. Alicia led Calista by the hand, directing her to lie on the other side of the bed. Calista reached out to intertwine the fingers of her left hand with those of my right. The Twins each took one of her ankles and gently spread her legs apart.

“What does she like, Tee?” Alicia asked, as she crawled up between my girlfriend’s inner thighs.

I explained how Calista preferred to be eaten out, and Alicia moved in to suck on her clit and massage her vaginal canal and G-spot with two fingers. Ruby climbed on top of me, assuming the reverse cowgirl position, and began rub her pussy on my cock. Soon I was inside her, and glanced over at Calista. My girlfriend was watching Ruby intensely as her pussy bobbed halfway up and down my cock. I then saw Calista’s eyes go wide, as Ruby pulled off of me and began to grind her ass against my cock, spreading her cheeks wide with her hands.

“Help me out, Kay?” she said.

Calista let go of my hand and reached over to hold my cock in place, so that Ruby could guide her sphincter down and around its head. Once Ruby’s anus was firmly in place, my girlfriend slipped her fingers between mine once more and squeezed firmly.

I groaned as Ruby’s delicious tight orifice stretched around me. She began to pump up and down, descending farther and farther with each stroke, until, at the extreme, my shaft was completely hidden by her hole. I looked over at my lover, and saw her eyes go wide. She watched in fascination for some time, while her own arousal began to peak. Alicia was having great success at stimulating Calista’s pussy, and, at my suggestion, was pulling gently on her nipples. She would not last much longer.

“How does it feel to have the entirety of my boyfriend’s penis inside your rectum?” Calista asked Ruby, in a husky, labored voice.

Her words were sexy enough in their own right, particularly because I found her clinical way of talking about sex to be highly stimulating. But when she said “boyfriend”, specifically, I suddenly felt like heart was going to burst from my chest.

“Ooh … he liked … you sayin’ … ‘boyfriend’,” Ruby panted between labored breaths, “Is this a … confession?”

“You could … say that … yes,” Calista croaked out, before arching her back, clasping my hand with tremendous force, and gripping the sides of Alicia’s head with her powerful, quivering thighs.

I was so overwhelmed with emotion that it felt like the world was spinning off its axis. My cock began spraying cum inside of Ruby’s ass, and as the first wave of hot fluid made contact with her insides, she arched her back, laying her head on my chest, and her entire body began to writhe and shake on top of me.

Calista was sweating so profusely that the bedsheet was visibly wet all around her. Alicia moved from her pussy up to her breasts, where she licked up numerous heavy droplets. Then she brought her lips to Calista’s, making my lover taste her own perspiration, and then French kissed her deeply. As she did so, Calista slid some fingers from her right hand into Allie’s pussy, and vigorously massaged the upper wall of her pussy.

I brought my hands the slight, swollen mounds on Ruby’s chest, but she swatted them away.

“Uh uh uh!” she said playfully.

Ruby relaxed, still lying on top of me, my cock still lodged as far as it would go up her ass.

“I need that Toy inside me,” Alicia panted, clearly feeling the effects of my lover’s internal massage, “Everyone’s gotten off except for me. Can you clean it up, Ruby?”

“Sure, I’ll get the washcloth and stuff,” her wife said, sliding off of me at last.

“Is your rectum clean, Ruby?” Calista asked, much to my surprise.

“Hm, yes, I had two enemas this morning,” Ruby informed her.

“I did too,” Alicia added, a quizzical look on her face, “Why do you ask?”

“I may be of some help with the cleaning up process, in that case,” my lover said. “Alicia, would you mind getting up for a moment?”

Calista removed her fingers from the shorter woman’s pussy with a loud squelching sound, and, with the fingers of her left hand still tightly intertwined with mine, rotated her body ninety degrees. Shockingly, she took my cock inside her mouth, fresh from Ruby’s ass. All I could do was moan with pleasure, not just because of the sensation of her soft tongue cleaning semen from my dick, but because it seemed so dirty.

“I … didn’t realize … you would do that,” I gasped.

She paused for a moment, my slowly-engorging cock in her right hand.

“You have no idea what things I would do for you, my love,” she replied, a sly smile on her face. “Alicia, he will be ready for you very soon.”

Calista was referring to the fact that when she said “my love”, my cock got noticeably harder. By the time Ruby returned from the bathroom, bringing two tubs of warm water with her, and several washcloths as well, my penis was rock hard again. My girlfriend had seen to that by sucking vigorously on its first few inches.

She took a washcloth from Ruby, soaked it in sudsy water, and began to carefully wash off my penis, ensuring soap got everywhere. She repeated this twice to make sure it was completely clean, then rinsed it twice as well, using two different washcloths, each dipped in the other bowl.

“I will now verify that all the soap is gone,” Calista informed the Twins, “so we may be certain that your vaginas will not get any inside of them.”

She licked, methodically, the entire surface area of my cock and scrotum, then lay back down next to me, our fingers still laced tightly together.

“No soap left,” she confirmed.

Alicia let out a big sigh of relief as her vaginal canal expanded around me. I noticed she was able to take me fractionally deeper than before, perhaps a sign my cock had stretched her pussy out, as it had Calista’s. Ruby climbed on top of my lover, assuming the sixty-nine position, and I felt Calista’s fingers tense as Ruby’s tongue and fingers went to work.

Alicia came before anyone else had their second orgasm, and then had yet another some minutes later. During her second climax, I joined in, spraying cum further inside than I ever had before. Semen ran down her inner thigh as she dismounted. Neither of the other two women had had experienced a second orgasm, at this point. They seemed content to take things slowly.

“Kay, it’s your turn if you want,” Alicia said, motioning towards my cock, slimy with both our juices.

“I can wait,” Calista said, her voice muffled by Ruby’s midsection, “I have a different proposal for now.”

Ruby got up so that Calista could speak more easily.

“Jason, as you probably know, prefers cunnilingus to most other forms of sexual activity.”

“Believe me, we know!” Alicia exclaimed.

“So I would imagine he would like to perform cunnilingus on you, Ruby.”

“I’m Alicia, actually. I’m the one with the smaller nipples, is how you can tell,” Alicia said, laughing a little.

Calista turned bright red.

“Please accept my apologies!”

“No problem!” Ruby cut in, “It’s kind of flattering, in a way; we don’t want anyone to be able to tell us apart!”

“Of course. It’s just embarrassing for me, of all people, not to recognize differences between twins.”

I had no idea was she was talking about, but being in a blissful, orgasmic haze, it was hardly the time to clarify the point.

“At any rate, I propose that I clean out your vaginal canal,” Calista said, “so that he can perform cunnilingus on you without consuming his own sperm. Jason, I assume you are not fond of drinking your own semen?”

“I would prefer to avoid it,” I croaked out; Calista was driving me wild with her willingness to do such dirty-sounding things, and I was finding conversation difficult.

“Does that sound acceptable to you, Alicia?”

“As long as someone’s got their tongue in there, I’m a happy gal!”

Alicia and Ruby traded places. While Ruby was getting me hard again, by rubbing her outer lips along my shaft, Calista put her lips to the slit hovering right above her. Cum was already dribbling out, and when Calista delved into the vaginal canal with her tongue, she hastily swallowed several substantial globules that came pouring out. She let go of my right hand, at last, and used the fingers of both hands to scoop any remaining fluid out, then licked her fingers. Alicia, throughout, was aggressively sucking on Calista’s clitoris, and masturbating her with her fingers.

“Just how big is your pussy, Kay?” Alicia asked, after many minutes of mutual pleasuring had gone by.

“Very large; in the 99th percentile, at least.”

“Ninety … what?”

“It’s … a long story,” I chimed in.

“Could I fit my hand in there? And, would you want me to?” Alicia asked.

“Most probably,” Calista said. “Can you hold it up for me to see? And yes, I would like that.”

Alicia held up her small, cinnamon hand.

“That will fit quite easily,” Calista said, peeking out from under Alicia’s midsection. “You can even make a fist, if you want, although, please, not at the outset. And try not to stretch me out too much, my boyfriend here has already done quite enough of that already.”

“Hey … no … fair” I whined between labored breaths; Ruby was riding me hard by now.

Alicia put the fingers of her right hand together and slid easily them past the swollen lips below her. Gently, she pushed in to around the second knuckles of her hand, then pulled back, working the vaginal canal open.

“It goes right in!” Alicia marveled.

“Yes, you should encounter no difficulties. How does it feel?” Calista asked.

“Very warm, very moist, and, I dunno,” Alicia said, “kinda spongy?”

My girlfriend purred as Alicia continued to work her hand inside.

“It’s up to my wrist!” she said.

“Let’s go watch!” Ruby said, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice. She climbed off of me, her tight pussy making a loud sucking sound as it was pulled off of my dick. Then she lay down, face first, on the bed, between Calista’s legs, so that she was only about a foot away from the fisting action.

“You can watch too, Tee,” Ruby said, “That’s why I’m lying like this!”

My mind was moving slowly, so it took a few beats for me to realize she was inviting me to enter her from behind.

“Can I put my hands on your hips?” I asked her; there was no predicting whether she would be okay with this sort of thing; sometimes she was, and sometimes she wasn’t.

I was glad I asked.

“Only to get the Toy inside me,” she said, “Let go after that and just use your hips.”

With my left hand under her hip, and my right hand guiding my cock, I got the tip inside her after a few false starts. I made a few thrusts before letting go, thankful that I worked out a lot and had the strength in the muscles around my hips to piston in and out without holding on to her. In front of us, Alicia was sliding her hand into my lover, over and over again.

“Can I take it … all the way out?” Alicia asked; Calista was licking her clit vigorously, so it was hard to talk.

“Yes,” came my girlfriend’s muffled voice.

Alicia’s hand came all the way out, and we marveled at Calista’s wide open vaginal canal. Ruby found it especially sexy to watch; her mouth was agape, and she was panting heavily.

“Fuck that’s hot,” Ruby croaked out, her legs shaking and her pussy bearing down hard.

“This will be even hotter,” Alicia said, looking up so that she could make eye contact with her wife.

Without warning, she put four of her slimy fingers past Ruby’s parted lips. She then proceeded to slide them in and out, as if fucking her wife’s mouth.

“Too bad you guys can’t see this,” Alicia crowed, “Rube’s eyes are rolling back!”

Between my relentless swiveling action from behind, the taste of Calista’s vagina on her tongue, and the aggressive use of her mouth, Ruby had the most extreme reaction I had yet to see out of her. Both thighs quaked, and she would have slid down off the bed, had she not been impaled on my cock, and thus supported, albeit indirectly, by my legs. Her vagina contracted sharply, and for a moment I was unable to move. It took all my concentration to hold back my own climax.

“You can push farther inside when you put your hand back inside my vagina,” came Calista’s muffled voice once more.

“Are you sure I won’t hurt you?”

“I’m sure.”

I was mesmerized as Alicia removed her hand from her quivering wife’s mouth, and plunged it back inside my lover, this time pushing until her wrist was about two inches past Calista’s swollen lips. Inspired by the scene in front of me, I began swiveling my hips faster than before, leaning over Ruby to grab the bedclothes for purchase. Ruby grunted with a mixture of pleasure and pain; her vagina was still sensitive from her orgasm moments before. Pushing through the nearly overwhelming sensation, she grabbed fistfuls of the top sheet for leverage, and began to push her hips against me.

“Ooh, I think I can feel your cervix, Kay,” Alicia said.

“You are … indeed! Oh, that feels wonderful.”

This whole time, Calista had been diligently sucking on Alicia’s clit, and, having reached around the ass suspended above her, pushing on her inner walls with some fingers she had slid into the vagina and anus. This effort finally paid off, and Alicia’s body flushed red with pleasure. I could see goosebumps all along her skin, and, distracted by her orgasm, left her hand fully inserted inside Calista’s vagina, just sitting there inert.

“You can try making a fist,” my lover said, once Alicia came down from her climax.

The smaller Latina woman withdrew her hand noisily. She made a small fist with her hand, and plunged it back in.

“Ooh!” Calista said.

Alicia repeated the motion several times, removing her balled-up hand completely each time, the battered vaginal gaping ever so slightly wider with every thrust. After five repetitions, Ruby could not stand watching this display any longer, and she came again, right as her wife’s hand disappeared for a sixth time. My girlfriend could not handle this either, and let loose a jet of fluid, hitting Alicia’s forehead and soaking her long black hair. Alicia continued to fist, and each time she withdrew her hand, more fluid shot out. Both of Calista’s thighs shook violently, and she screamed loudly in her native tongue. It was the same phrase I’d heard her say before, and as always, the only words I could make out sounded like “mayer” and “choplon”.