Charlottesville High School Ch. 05

Marisa was speaking. "They say we're supposed to use our clothes to express ourselves, but sometimes they feel more like masks, designed to shut off our personality, not celebrate it. Strip them off and what do you get? Human bodies, the greatest invention of all. Nowhere to hide, nothing to hide from. Only bodies, no male, no female, no discrimination."

Artie undid my belt, pulled it free. I raised my butt; he pulled my skirt and panties from my body. I was naked from the waist down. Artie took hold of my waist and pulled me to the edge of the chair; I offered no resistance.

Marisa again, "Do you trust us, Tao?'

"Yes."

Artie lay the flat of his tongue on the bottom of my cunt and, slowly, deliberately, forcefully, licked up my sex. When he reached my clit he pulled it between his lips and sucked, drawing it into his mouth. He was gentle and tender; his tongue flicked and dabbed. I dropped my head back, breathed slowly and deeply, concentrated on the sensation. Marisa praised me, said how well I was doing. Artie's tongue slid back down my slit, pushed inside my sex. I spread my legs and squeezed my pussy muscles on the him. He pushed deeper, as deep, I imagined, as he could go. I worked my breasts. One of his hands rubbed my clit, the other caressed my thigh. He relaxed his tongue and when my spasming cunt muscles drove it out, he dragged its rough top up my labia, then, using his tongue's soft underside, shambled back down my sex.

"Oh god, so good, lick me."

I bucked my hips; he returned to my clit, gave it a quick suck, then nibbled on the delicate pliable nub, attacked it with his tongue. I humped my hips, abandoning myself to the feeling. He took hold of my legs, anchored me in place; I let out a long groan. He tongue briskly slapped my clit; he occasionally brushed it with his teeth. I looked up; Marisa was staring at us, her face slack, her breathing labored, her hand inside her dress, diddling her sex. I liked being watched; I let out a piercing squeal of ecstasy, which then climbed an octave. My groans merged with hers, they filled the room.

And through it all Artie licked my client with the ferocity of a hurricane attacking a sea wall. It was wonderful. I shuddered, arched my back, just let go, accepting the sensations. An orgasm burst inside my groin; tingles ran up my spine and down my arms and legs. I put my hands on Artie's head, steadying myself, breathing heavily, muttering, "Oh god," over and over, thinking that this was oh so wonderful, that it was oh so okay to feel this way.

I lost track of everything, opening my eyes only when someone took my hand. Artie was standing before me, naked. He helped me up, then lowered me onto the table and stepped between my legs.

His erect cock dangled before me. It wasn't any longer or thicker than my ex-husband's, but seemed sexier, more alive; it had a raw powerful scent. I looked to Marisa. Her face glowing, she walked over to me and tenderly touched my face.

"Be aware of your core, be aware of your instincts, accept the animal that lives inside, nurture it, feed it, balance it, love it."

Marisa curled one of my ankles around Artie's waist; I drew him towards me, wrapping my other leg around him. Marisa pressed his cock to my sex, rolled it over my labia, soaking the head. I'd never made love with all the lights on; I could see everything.

"Tao, I'm going to fuck you."

"Yes Artie, please, I want it."

Marisa set his cock-head in the opening to my sex and Artie, unhurriedly, moved inside me, my body softly yielding to him.

He rocked back until only the cock-head remained between my pussy lips, then moved back into me. I crossed my ankles on his back, lifted my hips, guiding him forward. He covered my breasts with his hands, squeezing the sensitive flesh. We made love, we fucked, we celebrated our bodies, I'm not sure what to call it besides exquisite. He stroked in and out of me - a good fast rhythm - I clenched writhed grunted groaned.

Marisa encouraged me. "So perfect, so perfect. Let it all go Tao. Love you body, love yourself."

I looked at Artie; he was looking at his cock moving in and out of our conjoined bodies. Cock was a word I'd always avoided, now I sang it in my mind. My pussy lips molded to every contour of his shaft. He buried his entire length in me with each thrust. When I contracted my cunt muscles I was rewarded with his sharp grunt of pleasure. My breasts bounced, I rolled and jerked my hips. He reached down, squeezed my breasts; I arched my back; the table creaked; my body shivered; my pussy spasmed; I moaned, a deep guttural sound. He pinched my nipples, lightning bolts ricocheted through me.

He took hold of my left leg, lifted it, draped it over his shoulder, pumped into me with renewed intensity. My right leg slipped from his waist, hanging limply from the table.

"Please don't stop," I whined. He smiled, touched my clit; I yelped, my body gyrated. He covered my clit with the heel of his hand, rubbed it against my body, rammed his cock into me. I let out a scream of pleasure and flexed my cunt, trying to deliver as much pleasure as I was receiving.

Through half-open, unfocused eyes I saw Marisa smile, bend down. Artie took his hand from my clit and Marisa's mouth was on my sex, her tongue on my clitoris, her hands on my breasts. Marisa's touch was knowing gentle perfect. The studio echoed with my obscene groans of pleasure; my pussy spasmed; Artie kept going, his face contorted with pleasure and lust. We locked eyes. He filled my pussy with his cock, Marisa licked my clit.

I grunted, short and hard, arched my back. Every joint in my body stiffened and then I came, a long sweet rising tide of an orgasm, suffusing every cell of my body. I couldn't breathe, think, speak; I just was.

Marisa lay next to me, Artie pulled out of me, stepped to the side, and filled Marisa with his still stiff dick. Wildly aroused, they groaned, undulated, rocketed towards their climaxes. I played with Marisa's breasts and, when she turned her head to mine, I let her tongue explore my mouth, at first tentatively, then with utter abandon. Then I did the same to her. Artie worked Marisa's clit with the heel of his hand; I reached for his balls, held them, felt them pull back into his body, felt him come and fill Marisa with his seed.

Artie, his body drenched in sweat, his legs shaky, stepped back his softening cock pulled out of Marisa with a sexy slurp. He knelt, licked up the length of her cunt, sucked her clit into his mouth, slid two fingers inside her. When I kissed her mouth Marisa involuntarily jerked her head from mine; she was losing control to the orgasm being born inside her. I fondled her breasts; she writhed, wobbled, squealed, "Yes, yes yes," pressed her hands to the table, used them as leverage to push her sex into her boyfriend's face. A thin sheen of sweat covered her body, she jerked, she jittered, she came, screaming, "OH MY GOD, OHH FUCKING YES."

In awe, I stopped playing with her breasts, but Artie knew better. He continued to eat her, seemingly addicted to the juice pouring from her, guiding her through her orgasm, intensifying its power, then multiplying it. Marisa came over and over and whenever she reached the mountain top, Artie managed to carry her higher. Finally she was still, tears in her eyes. I rolled over, draped an arm over her.

This was what I wanted. I would be their lover.

* * * *

Natalie, Sandy, and I were in the Bridges Progressive Art Gallery. Marisa had just been awarded the grand prize. It was no surprise, her work had been named the best in every category except for the still life, which finished second. Having spent several minutes looking at the painting of Tao sitting with Artie, we were now studying the one of Tao lecturing the class. It was hard not to notice the enthralled look in Tao's eyes.

I said, "Its almost sexual."

Natalie said, "Yes, you're right."

After a second Sandy said, "I agree, although I'm not sure about the almost." Then, after a pause, she added, "Oh Lupita, you don't think..."

As if rehearsed, the three of us simultaneously turned to looked at Tao, who was standing with Marisa and Artie. Now that you thought about it, they were standing a little closer, touching each other a little more, than convention dictated.

We turned back to the painting.

Sandy said, "Vivian and Marisa are pretty close. Perhaps a discrete inquiry is in order."