Some Day, All This Will Be Yours

So, how do you do it? No... I'm not so much interested in whether you lie on your back and stroke it with your hand, or lie face down humping a pillow, or use some other way to follow the yellow brick road...What really interests me is what you think about while you're doing it. Do you run movies in your head? And if so, are they fantasies or memories? For me, it depends on the mood: sometimes I need the sharp reality of a memory as I recall the face, body, and feel of a partner (or partners...) and what we did together; at other times I crave the freedom and flexibility of a fantasy: the ability to make up outrageously erotic scenes as I go along. Though if I'm to be honest (and what's the point of writing, otherwise?), they both always seem to end up as porn.

So what'll it be today? Memory, I think - and I know just the one... This was about three years after the graduation present I told you about, and I was a penniless college student studying at a small Liberal Arts college in New England. My then-boyfriend (he didn't last long, as you'll see) and I were hitchhiking around France in the summer vacation. We'd used up almost all our savings just getting there: hence the hitchhiking.

Anyway, it wasn't going well. Looking back, I think the basic problem was sex - isn't it always? I thought he was too selfish and he thought I was too demanding. Whatever. On this particular morning we'd had a row at breakfast after our usual rotten sex the night before, and then - scarcely talking to each other - we'd hitched a ride in a ginormous truck heading south. I could tell right away that the truck driver liked the look of me - well, who wouldn't? And I guess I was flirting a bit: revenge, I suppose. I don't speak much French, but body language speaks volumes.

"I suppose you want to fuck him", my bf said angrily.

It hadn't actually crossed my mind. I'm not into sex with strangers - well...not complete strangers, anyway - but of course I said:

"Well, maybe I will!"

"You're a promiscuous little tart!"

"And you're an uptight, selfish, prick who can't fuck!... And you can go to hell! Monsieur! Arrêtez vous, s'il vous plait!"

(I do know one or two emergency phrases...) Bless him, he promptly arrêtez'ed the truck, probably hoping I'd throw my bf out so he could have me all to himself. But to his dismay I immediately leapt down from the cab leaving him with my angry bf, whom I never saw again. So there I was, alone with my rucksack beside a lonely stretch of French country road. The moments that change our lives...

Once I'd calmed down, I assessed my situation. I wasn't worried about getting another ride - a good-looking girl on her own? - but sure as hell I wasn't about to get into a vehicle with an unaccompanied male driver. So I couldn't believe my luck when a couple in a Mercedes sports car with Paris license plates slowed down and stopped a few yards - sorry, meters - beyond me. The couple - a man and a woman in their early thirties, I guessed - looked as if they had just stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine, or maybe were on their way to a photoshoot. They were both stunningly good-looking behind their matching sunglasses: slim, Paris-groomed, and - to my naïve eye - thrillingly sophisticated. In my mind I instantly christened them Adonis and Aphrodite.

The car was basically a two-seater so I was surprised they'd stopped for me, but I squeezed myself and my rucksack into the narrow jump seat only to find I was sharing it with a small pet monkey on a leash (You can't make this stuff up, can you?). The couple couldn't (or wouldn't) speak English with me, but talked French desultorily with each other as we drove. Meanwhile the monkey, whom I christened Zephir, of course, decided to investigate his new companion. (If you don't know why I chose that name, I'll explain when we meet). First he peered down my T-shirt (looking for food, maybe?) and then he perched on my shoulder while picking through my hair, presumably looking for fleas. Finding none, he put his little arms round my neck and began to nibble on my earlobe instead. It wasn't quite as gross as it sounds.

Just as I was beginning to wonder what I'd do for lunch, Adonis (who was driving) turned off the road onto a rough track that ran alongside a small river. 'Uh-oh' I thought. 'What's going on here? White slavery?... Here I come!' Then he turned to me and smiled:

"Dejeuner... Ça va?"

"Oui, ça va!"

Lunch! So they weren't abducting me after all. We bumped down the track for a mile or so (that's about 1.8 kilometers to you) until it dead-ended in a tree-ringed glade beside the river. A big rug, a bulging picnic basket, baguettes, cheese, wine - even three wine glasses! I'd really lucked out. While Aphrodite went off into the bushes - to pee, I presumed - I spread the picnic on the rug and Adonis opened the wine. Zephir chattered to us from the branches of a nearby tree where he was tethered.

By the time we finished eating and drinking (I love French picnics!) I was feeling thoroughly mellow and more than a little horny. My bf (...ex-bf, I thought with a wave of relief) was so selfish and such a lousy lay that I hadn't had a good orgasm in weeks. I began to wonder how the afternoon might develop...and how I'd like it to. Up to then I had never had sex with more than one person at the same time, but I'd often fantasized about it and the idea really turned me on. And Adonis and Aphrodite were so drop-dead gorgeous that I was already wetting my panties over them both. During the picnic I'd noticed them looking me over speculatively and exchanging glances when they thought I wasn't looking. I began to suspect that this might turn into an interesting afternoon.

"Voulez-vous baigner?" said Adonis.

Say what? 'Voulez-vous beignets?' Do I want doughnuts? After a picnic like that...?

"Non, merci. Je suis...er...full." I mimed a bulging belly, hoping he didn't conclude I was pregnant.

"Non, non! Pas des 'beignets'...J'ai dit 'Baigner'...Comme ça."

He waved his arms above his head in a parody of swimming, and at last I got the message.

"Ah...mais oui!"

I began to rummage through my rucksack to find my bikini (Yes...I still had the same black one from that time at the beach), wondering where I could go to change. But Adonis and Aphrodite had no such bourgeois hang-ups; they calmly began to undress one another as they stood in front of me. Button by button, he undid her white blouse revealing the skin-colored bra she was wearing underneath. She shrugged off the blouse and then turned her back to him and her face (and breasts) towards me. As Adonis unfastened her bra and pushed the straps down off her lovely alabaster shoulders, Aphrodite looked into my eyes and smiled. I knew that smile and it melted my cunt. She raised a questioning eyebrow to which I replied with the slightest of nods before briefly closing my eyes in anticipation. In response, she reached forward, pulled the sides of my T-shirt out from the waistband of my jeans, and stripped it off over my head. Unlike her, I wasn't wearing a bra so we were now both naked to the waist and we drank in the sight of each other's breasts. I hadn't seen a naked woman since the last time I'd slept with my dear sweet aunt, and I was feeling starved for the sight of a female body.

Now, I don't know about you, but at this point in the story I'm beginning to wetten (I'm getting fond of that word). And I did promise to tell you what I was doing, didn't I? Well...I'm sliding my middle finger over my blonde bush (there's that nether riff again!) and on down between my legs, while I watch myself do it in the mirror. I 'm using my left hand, but the girl in the mirror is using her right; how does that work? Never mind...more important things to think about right now. Now I'm gently rubbing the sides of my clit, keeping my finger in between the swollen inner lips of my pussy and my clit itself. I need a little more lubrication here and I know just where to find it: I dip my finger into my vagina (no longer a virgin vagina) and then return it - all yummy and slippery - to my clit: Ahh!... Nice nice nice! But to return to the memory...

Eventually, Aphrodite turned away from looking at me and removed Adonis' shirt. I watched her undo his belt, letting his pants fall around his ankles. She herself had on black slacks that zipped up the side, so - taking my courage in both hands - I reached from behind her and pulled down on the zip. I could tell she wasn't expecting this because she gasped and turned back towards me. But in her eyes I read only encouragement so I undid the clasp, letting her slacks join Adonis' pants on the ground. Only my jeans and our panties remained, but not for long. Seconds later we were standing there looking at one another stark naked in the French sunlight, all of us enjoying the spectacular scenery. There was only one place that this little encounter was headed, or so I thought, and by this point I was quite happy with the prospect.

Adonis and Aphrodite were well named: they were as gorgeous nude as they were clothed...more so, in fact, if (like me) you have a taste for attractive naked human beings of both genders. Adonis had well-muscled shoulders and chest, and a flat belly up which his dark pubic hair climbed in a little pyramid towards his belly-button. His prick, when at last I dared to look at it directly, was partially swollen but not yet erect. It hung down between his legs, swinging slightly to one side, with his foreskin completely hiding the head. By this point in my short sexual odyssey I had seen - and felt - only a handful of pricks; his was my first uncut one and I immediately added it to my growing collection of favorite mental images. (Incidentally, I had once used 'handful of pricks' in the same 12^th grade English class when I was asked to invent a new collective noun. That one earned me - you've guessed it! - another bloody oxymoron. And when I told the teacher, Mr. English (...No, really!), that he had a dirty mind, he sent me to the Principal; and when I told him that only by keeping my collective noun could I preserve my alliteration, he said that wasn't funny and expelled me for a week, the asshole! It's a wonder I ever graduated from that sorry school. Like I said...a handful of pricks!)

Anyway, back to France...Aphrodite saw me staring at Adonis' beautiful uncut penis and smiled knowingly. As I watched, it slowly began to stiffen; I guess having two naked women gazing at him was having an effect. For her part, Aphrodite was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen naked - still is, for that matter. Her body was petite but perfectly proportioned: a lovely symmetrical face on a long neck above rounded breasts that jutted out perkily from her chest. I'd like to tell you that they were the size and color of peaches, but that wouldn't be much help, would it, because peaches come in a range of sizes. Take it from me: they were perfect in size, shape, and creamy-smooth color...and I'm a connoisseur of women's breasts. The areolas surrounding her pink nipples were the color of smoked salmon and made my mouth water; I longed to feel them between my lips. Beneath her flat belly and flanked by prominent hip bones, her dark brown bush was trimmed down to the bikini line but not a millimeter further, so the triangle of curly hair seemed to erupt from between her legs. I've always liked the look of pubic hair - on both men and women - and I can't understand why some women choose to shave it off. To my eyes it makes them look like children, and once you're past puberty, who wants to look like a child?

Recalling that afternoon is working its magic for me; I'm now wet and horny and working my way up to a lovely pre-orgasmic glow that's beginning to spread throughout my body. How are you doing? There comes a point - for me, anyway - where these precious feelings of pleasure that you get from sexual arousal begin to reinforce one another. You're not yet at the point of no return - still far from it on some occasions, nor in any particular hurry to get there - but somehow the feelings begin to focus and integrate themselves into a wide flowing river of pleasure. That's where I am right now. All I need to take me on to the next stage is Paul Simon gently making music in my vagina...There, that'll soon relieve the tensions of the day!

Talking of rivers...There we were - the three of us - standing naked beside one, having used the suggestion of swimming as the means to get us naked. It occurred to me to wonder if any of us actually wanted to swim since the idea had already done its job. As we paused to consider the situation and enjoy the scenery, the sexual tension was so palpable you could have cut it with a knife. Aphrodite took the decision, and the lead. Instead of jumping into the river, she simply lay down naked on the rug and put her arms up to Adonis.

"Ne pas nager?" he said.

"Ne pas nager", she replied.

It was all Greek to me, but the meaning was clear enough: they weren't going to swim, they were going to fuck instead. I wondered what they expected me to do. Should I leave them alone and give them some privacy? Or did they want a spectator...an accomplice...maybe even a participant...what? Had I already played my part in this unfolding romantic drama, or did I still have a role? Obviously not a speaking part - what would have been the point? But was there any action for me in the next act? I decided that since they obviously knew the script and I didn't, I should let them take the lead. So I lay down beside Aphrodite to await instructions.

As I told you, I'd never before had sex with two people at the same time: neither two guys, two girls, nor a matched pair like Adonis and Aphrodite. In fact, I'd never even watched two other people fucking and I was hungry for the experience. As if I wasn't there, Adonis knelt between Aphrodite's legs and leaned forward to kiss her. His prick was now fully erect; its pink, moist head protruded a little from his foreskin and nuzzled her bush. She took his head in her hands and directed it first to one perfect breast, then to the other. Her nipples were smaller than mine, but by now they were swollen as hard as berries, and he licked each one before sucking them into his mouth in turn. She and I moaned in unison: she with pleasure, I with longing. I found myself rolling my own nipples between my fingers in an attempt to duplicate the feelings being generated beside me.

When I moaned, Aphrodite turned her head and looked at me lying naked beside her. Her eyes drank in my breasts, belly, legs and my blonde bush, which was rapidly becoming wet with the juices seeping from my vagina. She looked so hungry and desirous that I parted my legs to let her see my pussy more clearly: its swollen, pink, inner lips stuck out for all the world to see, just like they're doing now. She smiled, reached across and took my hand. Adonis meanwhile had worked his way down her body and his head was now firmly entrenched between her open legs, his mouth pressed hard against her cunt. I could only imagine where his tongue was, although her little gasps of pleasure left me in no doubt as to what she was feeling. With her free hand she guided his head to exactly where she wanted it, while thrusting her pussy up against his face.

Suddenly it was too much for me; I couldn't hold back a moment longer. I opened my legs wide and began to openly finger my cunt, not caring what they saw or thought. Adonis lifted his head and watched as I began to rub my clit - just like I'm doing right now - and stick first one finger, then two together, into my vagina...just like this. My feelings began to tumble over one another in the race to the finish line. The sight of me blatantly rubbing myself seemed to inflame his passion. Without taking his eyes from my finger-fucked cunt, he moved up from between Aphrodite's legs and drove his prick straight into her welcoming vagina. Once united, they immediately began to fuck with increasing urgency, their eyes remaining fastened on me as I masturbated beside them, just like I'm doing right now. Time after time and with a gradually accelerating pace, Adonis drove his long hard prick up between Aphrodite's spread-eagled legs. It didn't take long...and it won't take long now, either. With a feral roar, he reached his climax. His powerful ejaculatory thrusts into Aphrodite's vagina would have pushed her off the rug and onto the grass had we not still been holding hands. It was all we needed - she and I - and it's all I need right now. We locked eyes and orgasmed simultaneously: Omigod...Yes, I'm coming!...Omigod... OMIGOD!...Ohh!... Oh...oh...oh..........

"That was pure, golden bliss; Merci merci merci for sharing it with me."

Of course they didn't understand what I was saying, but maybe they got the drift as our pulse rates slowly returned to normal, just as mine is doing right now. And speaking of drifts, I think I'll take a little nap, like I did that day in France. As I fell asleep beside my new French friends, I realized what my role in this romantic drama had been. I was never really one of the actors. No... Zephir and I were the audience.

***

Oh, hello! Are you still here? Good! But first I need to pee...Excuse me a minute; I'll be right back.

There...that's better! And it reminds me of a time...No, I shouldn't tell you about that...Well, what the hell? If we're going to become lovers you'd better learn all there is to know about me - the good, the bad, and the ugly - and if it grosses you out, then I'm sorry; we won't talk about it again.

(Intimacy alert! You should skip this next bit if you find it's getting too...er...explicit for you. Or maybe I should say 'Caveat lector!'. I told you my Latin teacher was really cute; we all called him Mr. Latin, of course. He once asked me in class to decline some noun or other. So I batted my eyelids at him and said: 'Oh Mr. Latin, there's nothing I can decline for you, but I'm ready to conjugate whenever you like.' By that time, I could find my way to the Principal's office blindfold. I had the hots for him (Mr. Latin, that is) all the way through school, but he only cared about Miss Translation. (Okay, okay; I admit I made that one up - not bad though, eh?)

Where was I? Oh yes...It was during one of my co-habiting periods, a couple of years after the French episode. I had this live-in boyfriend whom I really liked. He was smart, funny, gentle and generous - and no, I'm not talking about money. Neither of us had much of that, but who cared? And he was great in bed, unlike the loser I'd dumped in France. The occasion I'm telling you about (against my better judgement) was his 25^th birthday, which fell in early summer. When you're basically broke, birthdays can be a challenge and I'd thought long and hard about what I could give him. Finally it came to me, and a couple of days before the day itself, I told him: my gift would be that on his birthday I would do absolutely anything he asked of me, in or out of bed, with no hesitation and no questions asked. (I told you I really liked this guy! I guess I trusted him, too). Too bad he's not still around...His job posted him overseas and it was either go or quit, which he couldn't afford to do. We're keeping in touch but if he doesn't come back soon we'll both have to move on, so you probably have nothing to worry about. His loss is your gain!

His birthday dawned, and I must confess to feeling excited by the prospect of being under the complete control of another person. As you must have deduced already, I'm not really the submissive type - rather the opposite, in fact - so this was going to be a new experience for me.