The oversized room was decorated in a tasteless mishmash of New Mexico pueblo and Chinese restaurant. Paper globe lights cast a comfortable glow over the room, filling in any shadows left by the muted sunshine coming through gauzy curtains which skirled in a lazy, sensous dance from an inflow of cool breezes through the open windows. The walls hung with tapestries in a Chinese fire drill of colors -- the floor of dark, polished wood showed through the gaps between large southwestern rugs in their muted shades of rust, turquoise and adobe.
The furniture consisted entirely of day beds and tiny, round, three-legged tables. The beds were not dressed for sleeping, but were ornately draped in quilted, pastel coverlets, and lots of plush pillows with bright red tassels. There was soft music, perhaps a slow waltz, coming distantly from another room. The air was pleasantly fragrant with flowers and patouilly.
I rolled away from the windows and their curtains, through which I could only get a hint of bright blue sky and distant horizon. I imagined myself as being on the second or third floor of an expensive hacienda owned by a chinaman with a bizarre sense of humor. The rest of the room that had been unseen behind me was more of the same: day beds with white painted scrolled ironwork sideboards, diminutive coffee tables with doilies, and Navaho Indian rugs scattered about seemingly at random. Between some of the day beds were ornate Chinese privacy screens. On some of the tables were slender vases of flowers (chiefly tulips), and small bottles of oil.
Despite the outrageous decor -- the interior designer must have been quite insane -- the room had an uncompromising charm, an exotic delight to it.
I was comfortable on one of the day beds, the coverlet beneath me a dusty peach color, a pillow under my head. As I lay wondering why I was here, I heard voices faintly from the region beyond my feet. Raising my head an inch, I could see that I was not alone. At the near end of the room, a woman reclined upon another of the narrow beds, propped up by pillows. She was sipping a glass of wine and talking to someone whom I could not see, someone I presumed to be not in this room. The woman had an attractive, somewhat motherly face, the kind of face that men intuitively trust. She was wearing a brightly colored silk kimono that was open to the waist. I could faintly see the shadows of generous breasts beneath the material.
Another sound from over my left shoulder caused me to crane my head in that direction. Partly hidden by the sideboard of their day bed, a couple was making love. He was clothed in what appeared to be pajamas, the top buttoned, the pants pulled down to his knees. She was wearing a kimono, and otherwise naked, the kimono spread out flat beneath her as the wings of a butterfly. She was caressing his head, running her fingers through his hair and murmuring soft words I could not make out, as he intensely positioned his loins between her wide spread knees and entered her.
I became intensely aroused at the sight of them having sex so very casually in a room so obviously deficient in privacy. I could feel my member stiffen and become erect. Glancing down, I saw that I was wearing loose, silken pajamas much as the other man was. My erection made a tent of the pajama pants. In the next instant, the fly of the pajamas slipped open, exposing my hard, naked organ.
With a total lack of self-consciousness (I truly had no concern if anyone should see me), I reached down and began stroking myself even as I looked back at the man and woman. He was thrusting into her with a slow, sensuous rhythm, her breasts rocking gently back and forth. For just a moment, the man glanced in my direction and smiled, then turned his attention back to his partner. His thrusting became more vigorous until eventually, with a half-dozen baritone grunts, he finished himself into her, then melted down into her arms with a sigh.
The sight of them lying nearly motionless, did not provide visually erotic stimulation. I was still masturbating openly, but I knew that I wanted much more than mere self indulgence.
I peered once more at the first woman, the one at the other end of the room. And I was suddenly aware what this room was, and its purpose. This was the Chinese Room.
Clearing my throat, I called out softly, "Contessa?"
The woman lowered the wine glass from her lips and met my gaze. A smile blazoned on her affectionate face. "Ah, senor..."
She sat up and put her glass down on a round table. She arose with the swiftness of a gazelle and stepped gracefully toward me. Her breasts jiggled sensuously beneath the thin kimono. "I see you are awake, senor. What can I do for you?" Her voice was low and pleasing and as smooth as the silk of her kimono. She talked as if she knew me well, with the easiness of an old friend. She sat on the edge of the bed next to my hip and grasped my erect penis in her warm, gentle hand. A thrill ran through me and I looked up into her eyes.
She was thirty-something, and devastatingly beautiful in an underspoken way. Her auburn hair (almost red) was held up in a victorian bun with several ivory pins, creating a soft halo of red highlights upon her head. A long, curly strand of loose hair fell down on either side of her face, triggering the notion of what it would be like to have all that hair cascading upon me. Her eyes were gray-green, with long lashes. Her nose was freckled. Her wide mouth was lightly painted red.
She smiled and I was instantly seduced -- in love with this radiant creature whose real name I did not know. She looked approvingly at the erection that throbbed visibly in her hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze before re-establishing an electrically intimate eye contact. "What can I do for you, my darling? The same as before? Or something different?"
The first idea that flashed through my mind was, I wanted to make love to this woman more than I wanted life itself. The second idea was, have I already had sex with her?! The third was, how did I do it with her before?! -- I could not remember. I could remember nothing -- not how I got here, where here was, nor how long I had been here. Oddly, all that did not seem to matter.
I said nothing, but reached up and parted her kimono enough to see one full breast and part of the other. Still smiling, she tugged the end of the sash with her free hand and pulled the kimono aside to reveal a soft and slender body, untanned, lush and voluptuous. Her breasts hung full and taut, apexed with large, dark brown nipples. Her hips were nicely flared but not large. Her pubic area had been neatly trimmed of all excess hair. She smelled of musk and lavender.
I reached up for her breasts and, as if reading my intention, she bent forward to make them more accessible. They were as soft as clouds, yet pleasingly massive. I caressed them roughly. She arched her head back like a cat being scratched between its shoulder blades. She purred.
"You love my body, senor. That pleases me very much. It makes me very excited." Her soft, husky voice bore no hint of Hispanic influence, any more than her facial features or skin color did. Somehow, I knew that all men in this place were addressed as "senor," just as all the women were addressed by their brothel pseudonyms.
Her eyes twinkled. She released my penis, which truly needed no further physical stimulation, and sidled closer, leaning over me as if to invite further exploration of her breasts. So, I took one in each hand and squeezed them. I pulled them gently toward my mouth, and in the next moment felt her straddle me. Her breasts filled my vision totally, they played lasciviously over my face, rubbing against my cheeks, the nipples seeking the hunger of my mouth. While suckling with single-minded obsession, I felt her jostling softly, felt my penis being touched. I was sliding slowly into her warmth, until my manhood was totally immured within her.
I wondered how I could be so deeply mated with her while still suckling at her breasts -- she hadn't appeared that tall. I craned my head back and looked up into her face.
"Ah, senor...you make my job such a happy one," she whispered huskily. "Suck harder on my nipples, please."
I did, and was rewarded by vaginal spasms that suckled at my stiff manhood.
This tableau was broken when the Contessa began moving against me so that my hardness thrust in and out of her ever so slowly. She was a woman of exquisite talent. Despite my best efforts to hold back, I was quickly spewing my seed into her. My eyes clamped shut and my back arched. It was heavenly.
She continued her slow, serpentine fucking even after I had collapsed beneath her, my orgasms fully spent. Then she kissed me, her tongue doing to my mouth what my penis had done to her vagina. It was almost enough to get me hard again.
She nestled beside me, one leg thrown comfortably over my thighs, her face in my neck. She murmured sweet tidbits of love and erotica into my ear. Though I was unable to make out many of the words, her meaning and intent came through perfectly clear. Her pillow talk was a lazy, drifting stream nestled in a dark wood, and my mind was a helpless leaf floating down that rapturous stream.
When she sought to arise, I took her arm. "There's something else I'd like to do," I said. And then I described the oral liberties I wished to take with her genitals.
She only smiled broadly, looking at me through batting lashes and whispered, "Of course, my darling senor. Anything you desire is yours." She lay on her back, pulling her knees up high to expose herself to me. Her pubic hair was fine and dark and trimmed quite short. It was damp with her excretions and my semen. Her beautiful pink labia were partially open, like the petals of an exotic orchid. The sight and fragrance of her began to arouse me again.
There is a way I like to 'eat' a woman: after the usual licking (which I consider mere foreplay) I gently suck the labia into my pursed lips like so much pasta. I suck until I can just feel them tugging. Then I force them back out of my pursed lips. I do this repeatedly, with increasing speed, moving only my tongue. The Contessa moaned pleasantly, then gasped. I suppose she was surprised that I was truly exciting her beyond any mundane expectations. Her fingers caressed my head.
Her breathing became heavy and her back arched ever so slightly in a sensuous tidal rhythm. Her pelvis relaxed beneath me, which I took as a sign of sexual surrender. As I sucked and expelled her labia, I rocked my head slowly from side to side so that I was pulling at her genitalia in a varying direction. She gasped again, and I locked in on that direction.
By varying some tiny detail of my cunnilingual exertions, and listening for some sign of her increased arousal, I inexorably zeroed in on the maximal stimulation. Her breathing was now hoarse and grunting. She rocked her head from side to side while moaning words of endearment in Spanish, French and what sounded like Arabic. Then her entire body clenched and she threw her head back savagely, emitting a loud, mournful moan. Her thighs clamped around my head, which kept my mouth imprisoned to her cunt even as her pelvis twitched violently.
I reduced both the force and the rhythm of my ministrations. She had a number of orgasms, each progressively further apart. I heard her beg me to stop, but her hands and thighs would not let me go. I slowed to the point that I was just barely moving my tongue lightly over her labia, but was able even then to elicit another powerful orgasm from her. I stopped, and relaxed my face upon her warm, fragrant crotch. My neck was quite tired and I had to catch my breath as well.
After an endless moment during which I almost dozed off, the Contessa came to life and was soon nestled beside me, her head on my shoulder.
"Senor, it has been a very long time since I've known a man with such oral skill. You have pleased me very much." I bent down and silently kissed her forehead.
"Senor, would you do me a favor, por favor?" She arose on one elbow to look down at me. I nodded.
"I have a daughter. She wants to work here even as I do, and I am training her. I have told her many times of the joy that can be had at the lips of such a man as you. But, alas, she has never encountered such a gentleman. If I call her in, would you please...do for her what you did for me?"
My penis which had been semi-hard off and on for some time, now sprang to full erection, a fact not lost on the woman in my arms. She reached down and fondled me tenderly.
"Does the thought of making love to my daughter excite you, senor?" My erection answered her by throbbing sharply in her hand.
"Wait for just a second, my darling. I will get her. She is not far." And she arose, planted a kiss on the head of my stiff penis, sashed her kimono about her and walked toward the near end of the room. She disappeared around a corner.
I took advantage of the time to look about the room. The original couple had disappeared, but two other day beds were now occupied. At the far end of the room, a large, naked black man wearing several gold chains was having energetic intercourse with a petite oriental woman. He was squatting on his heels and holding the woman's hips up to his crotch in massive hands -- her ankles were locked around his neck. He was muttering something to her in a deep voice that was a distant rumble of basso thunder. She gasped repeatedly in a little-girl voice as they both stared in fascination at the rhythmic union of their sexual organs.
In the adjacent bed to my left was a threesome. Two young men with Mediterranean complexions, obviously twins, stood on their knees facing each other. Between them was a young black woman -- she had luxuriously braided hair and small, perfectly rounded breasts with tiny nipples. She was supported on her hands and knees. One twin had entered her from behind, and the other was lazily fucking her mouth. Neither seemed in any hurry to achieve orgasm, their movements being slow and sinuous.
The nearest twin smiled in my direction and spoke quietly, as if to preserve the magic sexual spell of the room.
"My brother and I, we much enjoyed watching you making the oral sex on your lovely whore. You were...how it say...putting in a great showing. You did making our dicks most excitement!"
He did not use the word "whore" in a deprecating way at all. In fact, he spoke it almost as an endearment. Nor did he seem to be 'coming on' to me, though he looked unashamedly at my naked erection, which I was casually stroking. It occurred to me that there was a magic spell in this room, a spell that removed all self-consciousness, all fear of rejection, all sexual phobias and misgivings. There was definitely something about the ambience of the room, despite its weird clash of decors. Perhaps it was the tapestries, that I now saw depicted men, women, animals and mythological satyrs sexually conjugating in every possible combination.
The young man who had spoken to me, shifted his stance slightly so that now I could clearly see the wet shaft of his penis sliding in and out of the dark girl's thick, purple lips. He looked again at me, smiling -- and nodded as if to invite me to enjoy the sight of his being sucked. So, I looked, and found the sight fascinating and exquisitely arousing.
"You like watching our whore do the sucking me? Is she not beautiful? Her mouth is like the heaven. You must trying her yourself. She makes me...she makes me..." And with that, his face screwed shut in a spasmic grimace, his teeth showed, and his pelvis began a fast thrusting rhythm. Semen gushed from the girl's mouth and down her chin.
After he collapsed back onto the bed, the woman (whom I now knew was named "Chocolate") turned around to the other brother, offering her lips to his stiff, damp penis. She rubbed her face against it, kissed it, caressed his testicles, all the while plaintively telling him how much she desired to taste his seed in her mouth. He needed no encouragement.
I had half an inclination to ask if I could fuck the black woman from behind while she fellated the second twin. But with that thought, I heard soft footsteps approaching. I sat up and turned as Contessa and a pretty girl of perhaps sixteen arrived at my day bed. The girl had long golden hair and a charming face that bore witness to her mother's mature beauty. She wore one of the ubiquitous kimonos -- it was sashed tight enough that I could see her nipples pressed through the fabric.
"Senor, this is Desire, my daughter. When I told her of your skill, she became very anxious to meet you."
The girl was blushing profusely, and smiled up at me through bangs and long lashes. I took her hand in mine, and indicated she was to sit next to me. I put my arm around her waist.
"Desire, you are very beautiful -- just as beautiful as your mother." She blushed again and her mother smiled approvingly.
She spoke shyly, "Are you going to...to kiss me...between my legs, like my mother said?"
I nodded. But what I said was, "Would you like that, Desire?"
"Yes, please," she whispered so softly, I could barely hear it. She glanced down at my lap where my penis was still at full erection. She glanced up quickly at her mother, who gave an assent with her eyebrows, then looked back at my penis. She gently grasped it in her petite hand and fondled it lovingly.
"You have a beautiful prick, senor, and I feel your great sexual need. Would you like to fuck me? I would be honored to have you spend yourself in any part of my body."
Contessa stroked the girl's hair and said, "Very good, Desire. Now open your robe and show the senor how beautiful you are."
The girl complied with some eagerness, allowing the kimono to slip completely from her arms. She was heart-breakingly lovely, with firm, pointed breasts shaped like champagne glasses. Her bright pink labia showed through transparent wisps of blonde hair. She leaned back on her elbows and spread her legs so that I could appreciate her total nakedness.
Contessa passed the back of her hand over the girl's cheek, then lovingly caressed one of Desire's conical breasts. "Is she not beautiful, senor? Is she not desirable?"
There was no need for me to say anything. I slid my hand down the girl's thigh and pressed it into her genitals, two fingers sliding effortlessly into her vagina. Her womanhood was already quite warm and moist, just like Contessa's had been. I briefly wondered how they did that.
I began by laying myself down beside the girl and kissing her. She was every bit as good a kisser as her mother. Then I lavished kisses upon her breasts until her breath came heavy. I knelt between her opened legs and took her labia into my mouth. She tasted clean and sweet. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the twins and Chocolate were watching with rapt attention.
As I had with Contessa, I slowly and methodically brought the girl to higher and higher levels of arousal. I hooked one arm around her raised leg so that I could play with one of her tits while I ate her pussy. Contessa lay on the edge of the bed, and began to gently kiss Desire's other breast.
The girl's breathing came harder and deeper until she began to spasm and moan. She ground her pelvis into my mouth so that I had to take pains not to bruise her with my teeth. Despite her youth, I was able to stretch her orgasms out even farther than I had Contessa's.
As I rolled over, the twins applauded me. Both had raging erections -- Chocolate was sedately and expertly masturbating them with hands generously lubricated with scented oil. The twin who had as yet not spoken, ejaculated onto the floor between our day beds.
I accepted their approbations, then felt hands upon my own erect penis. It was Desire, who was positioning herself between my legs. I spread my knees for her. Her glowing little face descended upon me, and she took my organ deeply into her mouth.
Contessa approached closer on the bed and began caressing the girl's head and giving her words of encouragement and coaching. I reached under her, found the end of her sash and gave a tug. Her kimono fell open.
"Contessa," I said, "I want you up here."
She smiled and slipped off her kimono. She leaned over my face, letting her soft, fragrant breasts sway and brush against my cheeks. I took them in my hands and wallowed my face in them, sucking hard upon her swollen nipples, all the while enjoying the sensation of Desire's mouth pumping up and down on my manhood. When I came, I spewed forth a copious volume of semen, which Desire swallowed to the last drop.
Later, but I have no reckoning as to how much later, as I lay in the arms of my Contessa, I noticed the sky outside the curtained windows had dimmed and grown red.
"I must go soon," I said to no one in particular.
Contessa nodded and kissed my cheek. She spoke softly in my ear, "My daughter was very impressed with you. I'm glad you pleased her so. And I'm glad that we have pleased you. Do you wish to leave now? Are you through with me?"
"Well, almost," I replied thoughtfully. "Is there any chance that I might see you and Desire again tomorrow? Would you mind if I...if I had full intercourse with her?"
She took on a mock expression of offense. "Senor, how dare you even ask such a question! Of course you may fuck Desire. I insist on it! And I would like very much to be there and watch. And participate, if I may." She inflected her last statement as a question, her eyes beseeching into mine.
"You horny wench," I laughed. "I would be delighted to fuck both you and your daughter."
My renewed erection pressed against her thigh. I rolled over on top of her, guided by her willing and eager body. I entered her, enjoying the silky lubrication provided by my previous ejaculations. I covered her mouth in mine, entwined our tongues and began moving within her. I entertained a vision of doing this same act tomorrow to Contessa with her naked daughter watching, and then repeating the act to the daughter while the mother watched. A shock of intense arousal flashed through my body.
Contessa moaned and ground her hips up against me. Somewhere else in the room I heard flesh slapping against sweaty flesh and a pair of voices crying out in passion and release. I increased the pace of my fucking.
The alarm clock went off with a dismal buzz. I arose slowly from my dream state, up through multiple levels of consciousness, pulling the memory of my dream with me. The last shred of my vanishing vision was Contessa's face imploring me to...imploring me...to what, I do not know.
I held tight to that final image as my semen exploded into my fingers.
- - -
I cannot begin to describe the depth of my disappointment at the realization that the last several hours had been but a hallucinatory by-product of my sleeping brain. A dream, yes, but a dream of striking clarity and corporeal solidity. I do not remember ever dreaming with such exquisite detail. Nor have I ever, to my knowledge, achieved orgasm during sleep without the prelude of the act itself awakening me. The fact that I had achieved several copious orgasms was evident from the stains on the sheet and the thick, musky residue of half-dried semen that coated my left hand. I deduced that I had masturbated in my sleep, providing physical stimulation to enhance the erotic visual images.
But the tactile experience of my fuckings of that night, as remembered, was not the crude rubbing of a dry hand on penis. It was an electrically sensual contact with moist mucus membranes, with the slick, writhing interiors of mouth and vagina. And I could remember the taste and texture of their genitals in my mouth as if it had truly happened.
It was quite beyond my understanding. And I felt grieved that I would never see that room again -- nor Contessa and her daughter -- nor any of the other participants. Dreams never repeat, or so I believed.
How could I know how wrong I was?
The rest of my day passed in a fog. I was late for work as the circumstances of my awakening confounded my attempt to shave, dress and depart on schedule. Images of the dream, Contessa's eyes for example, kept flashing through my mind, interrupting my concentration, interfering with the task at hand. I stayed in the office until almost dark catching up with my assignments. I went home exhausted. After a light supper and a hot shower, I climbed naked into bed with no premonition of what was to come.
- - -
The oversized room was decorated in a tasteless mishmash of New Mexico pueblo and Chinese restaurant. I was overcome with an intense deja vu. I had been here before. I had lain on this day bed before. And worn these pajamas. This was...this place was the...the Chinese Room, of course. How could I forget -- how could anyone forget the Chinese Room?
I sat up and looked around slowly, so as not to announce my presence unduly. To my right, a large black man lay flat of his back, the soles of his feet toward me, a woman with paper-white skin and flaming red hair astride him. As her taut buttocks rose and fell in a vigorous rhythm, I saw revealed the thick, ebony shaft upon which she was rectally impaled.
In a distant corner of the room, two men with identical appearance were in animated conversation with a petite and beautiful black woman bearing perfectly round breasts.
Closer at hand, a powerfully built boy, quite young I think, certainly in his teens, was enthusiastically plowing into his consort in the classical missionary position. The woman seemed familiar to me, as most of the residents of the room did, but she particularly so. I felt a strong pang of emotion that was at once desire and jealousy. I could not take my eyes off her.
She was perhaps my height and size, with luxurious breasts and lovely auburn hair. She appeared to be old enough to be the boy's mother, and was participating in the fuck with a wild and authentic abandon. Her nails raked his back, leaving long, white scratches. He grunted loudly and obscenely with each thrust into her, as a bull might possess a cow during the rutting season.
With much thrashing and animal noise, he achieved a remarkably prolonged orgasm -- nor did her pleasure appear to be any less than his. He rolled off her and expired, trailing a long gossamer strand of mucus between their genitals. Had I not seen his chest rise and fall, I would have thought him dead.
She raised up on her elbows, smiling giddily. Her head turned slightly and she saw me. Catching her breath with some effort, she met my gaze and said, "Senor, I am so glad to see that you have returned. I hope my little tryst was entertaining."
I had to admit to myself that I had enjoyed the performance, and it had certainly aroused me. My organ even now was fully extended and throbbing almost painfully beneath the loose silk pajamas. Her name came to me. Then, as a door suddenly thrown open to the light of day, I remembered by own rendezvous d'amour with her the time before. This was Contessa, my Contessa, of the Chinese Room.
She arose, casting her kimono loosely about her, and sat down beside me.
"I have missed you, senor. I am glad you returned to keep your promise to us."
I clumsily asked her what she meant, to which she artfully replied, "You promised to return and make love to me and to my daughter, Desire. She was worried that you would forget."
I remembered Desire! My penis throbbed again, finding the opening in the pajamas and thrusting itself into the open air. Contessa's hand closed softly about it.
"And who is this boy?" I asked with some trepidation, fearing that the handsome stranger had somehow replaced me in Contessa's affections.
"He is my nephew, my sister's boy. He has had a crush on me since he was ten. Today was his sixteenth birthday. He came to me and asked if I would be his first woman, his femme'la'alnilam, the experienced woman who traditionally introduces a young man to the pleasures of the flesh. He was so charming and vulnerable, I could not refuse him. You do understand, senor, do you not?"
My jealousy faded away as if it had never been.
"Your nephew? Truly?"
She nodded and smiled, all the while compelling me to shed my unnecessary pajamas. I lay back naked and aroused upon the pale turquoise coverlet of the day bed.
"We of the Chinese Room often have a child or two, usually when we are quite young. It is not unusual for us to train our own children in this joyous enterprise, or each other's children, as I just have for my sister."
"And your sister is here, too?" I asked.
"Certai'mon, senor. My sister, Rosebud, is just there." And Contessa nodded her head to my right. Rosebud was none other than the pale redhead consorting with the black gentleman. They were coupled again, with much noise and spirit -- she in obeisance on her knees, her partner thrusting into her from behind. Bending over her compliant form, he had seized a breast in each hand. She was every bit as voluptuous as my Contessa. And in another matter was also much like her sister, in that her apparent enjoyment of the sexual act was profound.
I turned to Contessa. "Do all the women in your family love sex so much?"
Before answering, she playfully took my penis into her mouth and slowly slurped its entire length.
"All the women and men in my family are devoted to all forms of the sexual act. It is our religion, our food. We have lived and loved here for uncounted generations, senor. Soon, I shall retire, but my daughter shall take my place." Her glance was suddenly distracted to a point behind me. "Ahh, here is Desire now."
I turned to see the child enter the room like a vision swathed in glory (the multi-hued light that occasionally surrounds the full moon on cold winter nights). Her kimono was nearly transparent and floated about her as if it had no weight of its own. Beneath the fabric, I could clearly see a chain of gold about her waist and golden ribbons entwined about her thighs. There were several fingernail-sized flowers of brilliant scarlet imbedded in her hair, and one more imbedded in the sparse thatch of golden flax between her legs.
Her cheeks were flushed, and an eagerness shown out through her eyes, which were locked onto mine. She came to me, bent down, snuggled her young body against mine, and kissed me full on the mouth. Our tongues embraced like long lost lovers. After an eternity, she withdrew, leaving me shaking with intense sexual need. Apparently, the kiss had affected Contessa, too, as she was practically hovering over us, breathing deeply, one hand pulling upon her own nipples, the other busily buried within her sex.
Mother and daughter looked at each other.
"Are you ready, Desire? Is this the one?"
Desire grinned back, "Yes, momma, he is the one. I have chosen."
Before I could ask what they meant, Contessa clapped her hands and beckoned to the rest of the room. The other couples (and trios) approached and took up beds surrounding ours. There were three couples now, including Rosebud and her black stud, and two trios, including Chocolate and the randy twins. The other trio was composed of an oriental woman and a dark skinned man, both incredibly handsome, bound together by a short gold chain affixed to their leather collars; and their...for want of a better word, 'client'...who was an effeminate if muscular man of great height. And of immense genital proportions, for truly I had never imagined that the male human organ ever achieved such girth.
I suppose I and my entourage now comprised a foursome, for Rosebud's son had awakened at the clap and joined me and the two women on my day bed.
It is here that I must interject the oddest observation. The day beds had the strange property in that they were always adequate for the number of people upon them. When I did lie alone, my day bed was not quite wide enough to accommodate two people, yet roomy enough when Contessa joined me, and now of a bountiful size appropriate for four people! It was the largest bed in the room! How this was accomplished I was never to know.
Contessa announced clearly to all, "My daughter has chosen this day to join us in our eternal service to..." and she uttered a name strange to my ears. "And this man shall be the first to plant his seed within her. I call for wine and entertainment!"
From several entrances that I could not see, servants (if that is what they were) entered with trays bearing fruit, nuts, cheese, breads and bottles of green wine. They were male and female; some of them children; several of the adults partially or totally nude; most of them strikingly attractive; a few with disfigured or oddly distinctive features; and one woman disarmingly handicapped. To be specific, she had no arms at all. She brought in a variety of fruit in a basket with a large handle which she grasped in her teeth. She gracefully set the basket down on the table beside my bed and winked at me. I found her strangely alluring.
Then we commenced to be entertained.
This consisted of each of the other couples (and trios) performing sexual acts for our amusement and stimulation. And yes, I was amused and I was extremely stimulated. Rarely were my inflamed genitals without caressing fingers or lips. At one point, even the golden boy, Contessa's nephew, tenderly stroked my manhood -- I must admit that I did nothing to discourage his attentions. I, in turn, played my part by lavishing frequent kisses on mouths, breasts and pudendas as the opportunity arose.
Chocolate was first, taking her oddly accented twins into her vagina and rectum simultaneously, one twin beneath her, the other kneeling above and behind her.
Rosebud poured oil from one of the tiny bottles that dotted the small, round tables upon her breasts, then bent over backwards from a kneeling position until she was bent almost double. Her man (his skin was of the darkest black imaginable) knelt over her face and thrust his long erection between her ample breasts which he clasped together around his penis with immense hands. His eventual ejaculation covered her entire torso.
The effeminate giant allowed his chained consorts to arouse him to full erection with their hands and tongues. (For there was no way he could ever fit in their mouths!) Then he stuffed himself between the oriental woman's legs and began to fuck her and hungrily fellate the dark-skinned man at the same time. This was not as easy as it sounds because the chain that bound his two consorts was not of great length.
And so it went, each performance eliciting oohs and aahs from the rest. Between the succulent fruit and the heady wine, I attended to my two women, fingering and tonguing them to high plateaus of arousal, and then leaving them there without release -- at their insistence. I was somehow able to maintain a constant state of intense arousal, myself, without ever reaching orgasm. An amazing feat considering how much I was fondled and sucked during that time.
