I don’t think “Food porn” was a thing in 1969, but California’s food culture was awakening just as Ella, Alice, and I were. Ella’s Momma was a legendary home cook who also loomed large at home and in the kitchen at Berkeley’s schools, where she was already introducing fresh vegetables and from-scratch food to the cafeterias, and was frequently invited to give guest demonstrations in Home Ec. We asked her for advice on an over-the-top dinner.
“Can’t go wrong with steak,” she advised, and even arranged for a special loin of free-range beef from a rancher friend to go with the mushrooms, early corn, and the special collard greens she insisted on teaching us to prepare.
“Butter, butter, butter, that’s the secret,” she told us.
Ben was reluctant when we invited him. “Just gonna be your friends, right? I don’t know any of them.” We couldn’t exactly say, ‘Well, you’re really the only guest,’ and when he asked if he could bring Richard? Well, we were surprised.
“Do you suppose... ?” I began to query, and Ella jumped right in, “I don’t think so. Having a friend is a very new thing for Tiny. I don’t think it’s more serious than they spot each other when they lift. Richard’s a gymnast, lithe slender body, and from what I’ve seen, he’s a nice boy.” I could tell from her little hesitations as she described Richard that she thought he was a bit of all right.
“How old?”
“Tiny’s age, twenty, I’m guessing. He only came to the house once so far, and Momma approves. She still doesn’t know what’s going on between us, ‘cuz it just doesn’t fit her worldview. But I think it’s just buddies. I can tell you, Richard couldn’t take his eyes off me when I wore that fluffy pink sweater with the deep vee neck just to tease him. Well, tease them.”
“You’re such an exhibitionist! Of course, you’ve got the exhibits!”
“Don’t underestimate yourself. I heard those boys discussing ‘pussy we’d like to know’ – they weren’t afraid to let me hear. When Tiny mentioned your name, Richard said, ‘Oh, yes, that fine stuck-up bitch that hangs with your sister.’ Not sure that’s exactly a recommendation, but you’re on their radar.”
“Well, then what about Alice?” Of course!
When advised of our plan, Mom obligingly confirmed she was flying to Boston for a weekend with my Dad, ceding us the house. Friday Alice joined us for an evening of prepping: cutting up the loin and marinating the steaks first, then marinating each other during a ‘training session’ involving a succession of Mom’s dildos. By this time, we were joyously eating each other out while manipulating a dildo – especially effective for El and Ali – and achieving five-star orgasms.
Afterwards, we talked. Love was always a major topic. By this time, after three years of best friendship and almost two of being lovers, Ella and I were, in some delicious ways, like old marrieds, and had pledged undying love forever “despite what life brings us.” Now that I’m an old lady of seventy-five, and am back sharing a house with Ella, I am constantly amazed by how steadfast we are in spite of the separate and exciting lives we lived. Alice added a new dimension, and we were all delighted that she fit in so comfortably: big points to her for adaptability and grace.
We loved making predictions about our own sexuality while teasing ourselves to successive orgasms. We all expected children – well, Ella and Ali did. I liked being an ‘only’ and choosing my siblings, so one would be enough for me; a girl, please! The idea that our affair, whatever it was, had passed from convenience to a deeply felt bond, deepened unexpectedly by our third member. Our shared sexuality provided only part of the cord that made “us” feel permanent and unshakable. We foresaw separation, but not any time soon. For children, we reluctantly agreed, we might need men. And Mom, as staunchly solitary as she was, had made a strong case for the efficacy of penises in a full female life experience, at least for our lifetimes. According to her, the men those penises were attached to, not so much. But we were independent, open, and ever so curious. Visions of Tiny’s engorged member and the anticipation of encountering it intimately built incredible tension around the next night’s dinner.
“What if he won’t, you know, if he doesn’t want to?” I asked, my insecurities showing.
“Oh, stop it!” Ella and Alice said with one voice, and El rolled over and tweaked my left nipple, sending a thrill to my already well-fondled cunt. Said nipple, even post earth-shaking orgasm, immediately showed interest.
Tuning my erect nipple like a radio knob, she reassured, “You’re his dream fuck. I wish I could watch, because the contrast between you two is going to be . . . Oh, goddess! Something to see.” And she dove between my legs and laved my labia with her hot tongue.
After a while, recovering, I mused, “What are we going to do with Richard?”
“You just leave that to us. I have ideas,” Ella murmured into my pussy.
– o –
Mushroom sauce glistening on top of perfect little filets, buttery new corn, a bottle of Mayacamas cab ‘borrowed’ from the cellar, and a luscious crème brûlée behind us, Ella had started some quiet music then subtly separated us. She and Alice lured Richard to the backyard bench beneath the grape arbor – he was scarcely reluctant. I sat Tiny down on the living room sofa with its panoramic view pointing straight out to the Golden Gate across the Bay. The sun just setting behind the womanly twin peaks of Tamalpais was giving everything a magical golden glow. Tiny was devouring me with eager eyes, a suggestive bulge in his jeans. Love was in the air.
I spoke first: “Ella told me you like me. I hope you don’t mind her telling, but you know we share everything.” I bent forward to kick off my shoes and when I leaned back, I saw Ben’s eyes riveted to my chest.
“I do.” And a self-conscious giggle, not at all manly. Hearing himself, Ben lowered his voice deliberately, tried a joke: “That sounds like we’re getting married.”
“Way too soon for that, don’t you think? But I like you. I like you a lot.”
“Anything about me in particular?”
“Ooooh, that’s a leading question. I like the way you care for your little sister. I feel safe with you, because I have seen you get through hard passages without being unkind. And . . . well,” I remember very deliberately turning to him, knowing that my strategically unbuttoned top would bow out and give him a free glance at my nipple if he cared to look. He cared. I put my hand on his tight jeans, an inch from the growing bulge he was uneasily managing, and continued, “You know, I think, that Ella and I have watched you through your bedroom window.”
A shiver of dismay moves him to look away, and I pursue my advantage: “I like your body. I admire how you have worked out, and made yourself so strong and yet . . . “ I lightly stroked down his thigh away from his crotch, and then back until he must have been able to feel the pressure of my hand on his penis. “Ella and I have talked about who we’d want for a first man lover, and I choose you.” I remember deliberately saying “choose” in the present tense, not the past. I wanted him to know I wanted something to happen between us, right then.
– o –
“You never told me,” Ella asked one quiet evening sixty years later, “how you got my brother into your bed that night.”
“Well, I could read you my journal, but I almost always wrote chastely, as if my journal was going to be published in the Gazette.”
“Oh, goddess! I don’t need to read that. What do you remember now?”
What a tempting invitation! “Well, we were sitting on the sofa, and I was vamping him, and he was about to explode his pants. I took pity on him, took his hand, and told him I’d chosen him to be my first. He followed me willingly to my bedroom, and I carefully extracted his growing prick from his tight pants. He tentatively reached for the buttons on my blouse, and I let him know he should proceed. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and even if he’d already seen me, he gasped to see my nipples, and his cock grew an inch. He touched them like they were fragile. I wasn’t wearing panties either, and when I unbuttoned my skirt and dropped it, I was naked. Didn’t get his shirt off ‘til later.
“I pushed him back on my bed, and licked the tip of his dick where a drop of pre-cum glistened. Are you enjoying this, El? Or is something in your underwear bothering you?”
“Oh, please,” she said after a moment, “go on!”
I found myself a little amazed by the vividness and completeness of my recall; I was visualizing, I see now, one of the ‘peak experiences’ in my life. “He couldn’t get his hands away from my breasts. I think I sucked his glans, and was rewarded with more of his tasty pre-jiz. He moaned, and told me he was on the brink of coming. I remember his words: ‘I have dreamed this for so long, you gotta go slow.’ I asked him, ‘Have you had a virgin before?’ He looked away and allowed that he had. ‘If you were doing it again, how would you go?’ I had planned these questions, and at his reply, I felt a little ocean of anticipation moisten my pussy. ‘I would go slow. Let you be in charge.’
“I straddled his legs, slipped my hands under his shirt, and stroked his nipples. His dick jumped up against my ass, and I hunkered down so I could open my vulva by rubbing against him . . . feeling his glans rubbing my clit, I had the first inkling of an orgasm to come. ‘You’re so wet,’ he remarked, and shivered; I felt his cock throb against my lips as I drew back, grasped his cock, and gently rubbed it against my soaking wet hole. From that moment on, I lost all awareness beyond my body. He slipped inside me easily, and I slowly, slowly, worked him into me, enjoying the stretch – thank the goddess for dildos – until I felt his cock head against my fornices. Or maybe it was my collarbone; he was so deep. I think he began moving then, ever so cautiously; I suppose he was trying to last.
“And then he gushed. What a sensation, completely different from a dildo. Lively. Visions of little sperms swimming up my tubes toward my ovaries became visions of little coffee-colored offspring, and I guess I was recovering from the elation of having him inside me to take a moment of gratitude that Mom had put me on the pill.”
“Entonces?” Ella prompted, bringing me back. I had sailed away on the memory.
“Oh. Not so clear. I think I collapsed on him, him still deep inside, and he carefully rolled us onto our sides. He never softened and stayed in. Maybe we dozed? I woke to him playing with my nipples and felt him hardening inside me. Soon he had me on my back and was pumping earnestly, and for a good long time. It felt really good, no pain at all, and if there was soreness, I don’t remember. I just remember a golden glow.
“He came again. Maybe twice. My pussy was a swampy mess and my bed was a puddle. I remember thinking I’d have to wash the sheets if he ever came out of me. When he said, ‘You didn’t come. I’ve heard you come with my sister, so I know. Is there anything . . ?’ On the spur of the moment, I looked him in the eyes and said, ‘Lick my pussy?’ He shuddered a little, a look of disgust raced across his face, then, bravely, ‘I’m a virgin on that, Grace. I’m willing to try if you’ll tell me what you need.’”
“Did you?” Ella prompted.
“He started slow; I think he expected our juices to be yucky, but he got over that quickly. He didn’t know much about female anatomy, but he was a natural. It took us a while to find my rhythm, what with the newness, but he was persistent, and when I finally came, it got him so hot that he humbly begged me to let him enter me again. And he did. He awoke me in the middle of the night by touching my breasts, and I wondered briefly about what you and Alice had done, but then he was between my legs with fingers and tongue, and again I went inside my body and just luxuriated.
“What did you and Alice do?”
“Well, Grace, thank you for that story, and someday, maybe, I’ll tell you. Right now, it’s time for me to take you to bed.”
