Lanelle

Just as I returned to her tight but saucy confines, she curved her back, leaving my staff to wag. A burst of thankful reward sprayed my crotch as she squealed onto Rhett's pole. Her hips bucked and rocked as she gushed again, washing Cassie's thighs and pelvis. Dribbles of her delightful deluge still dripped from her inners as I plugged her precious hole and went to work.

After a dozen or so cycles, I lowered my staff and slid into Cassie again. As my loins slapped off her soaking wet thighs, Rhett let out a hardy grunt, answered by a sweet hum from Lan. She stopped and gulped, then hummed again. I sensed Cassie's inners clamp as a torrent cascaded over my balls. As I pulled back to let her purge, another volley tickled my sac.

Rhett stopped to take a breather. He sat on the sofa at half mast, watching Lan and Cassie kiss as I alternated behind them. My cock tingled with such constant delight I wasn't sure when I began to come, but I pulsed a seed-laden spurt over their bushes as I withdrew from Lan and slipped into Cassie's sopping sheath. I never lost my rigidity, but my shaft became slick with pearly cum, and the scent of testosterone blended into the mix of aromas filling the room. By the time I reared out and stepped back, a ribbon of white ran from Lan's slit, oozing over Cassie's and between her buttocks.

I stood like a conquering warrior as I caught my breath—my manhood still hard as a steel pipe. Lan rolled onto the sofa and bounced to her feet like a gymnast. She stood only a few inches shorter than me, raising her chin as she pressed her breasts against my pectorals. My aching desire to kiss her was tempered only by the sheen on her lips and the pungency of semen on her breath. I tipped her chin higher and kissed the nape of her neck. "You didn't run," she whispered in my ear.

"That's gotta count for something," I replied, handing her wine over in hopes she'd rinse her mouth.

She either read my mind or had an uncontrollable urge to slosh wine around her mouth. I'd have kissed her no matter what, but I was relieved to taste only Pinot when our tongues danced.

"Hey Lanelle," quipped Cassie. "You never rinse your mouth before kissing me."

"Want me to?" asked Lan in jest.

"Don't you dare, sis."

Lan pressed her forehead to mine. "Cassie's a brat," she offered. "But I love her." She took another sip, then led me to the chair and had me sit.

My cock thumped to attention as she helped Cassie into position over my lap, facing away from me. I grasped the sides of Cassie's torso as she squatted. Lan knelt before her, grasping my shaft to aim its bulb into her. Cassie giggled and lowered a bit more, enveloping my crown in her warmth. Throwing her head back, she surrendered to gravity and sheathed my entirety.

I cupped her breasts as she tipped her pelvis and leaned back against me. Rhett knelt behind Lan, reinvested his shaft and rocked his pelvis forward. "That's a hardy batch of seed, Sari," he acknowledged as his belly bumped her buttocks. "The idea is to inseminate your alternate."

"He did," sassed Cassie, rocking her hips to rub her walls over my buried beam. "I say we give him a break. He's a new buck learnin' the ropes."

"I'm fine with it," he replied, ramping up to sloshing speed, "Just make sure you don't poop out, Sari. You'll want to affirm your alpha status a bit later."

I appreciated the advice, but knew it wouldn't be a problem. Lan's explanation had been spot on. With each stroke of Rhett's hips, my ardent intent to be her alpha expanded exponentially. Listening to her peeps of delight, I ran my tongue over the top of Cassie's shoulder and tweaked her nipples with my thumb and forefinger.

Lan purred as Rhett slowed his cadence. Her precious gaze surveyed her friend's feminine frame as it enveloped me. She kneaded my dangling sac for a moment and leaned down, tickling my knees with her full mane. I cried out in euphoria as the tip of her tongue dashed my sac and licked up to my hilt. Cassie wailed a moment later. "Oops," peeped Lan, giggling as she resumed licking my jewels.

"Oops, my ass!" groaned Cassie. "Get that little ball flicker back on my gush-button!"

Rhett sped his pace behind Lan as she licked between my base and Cassie's clitoris. Chaotic glimpses of nirvana flashed before my conscience as we, a sort of makeshift team, accomplished a level of ecstasy feared by some, coveted by many and scorned by more for the means by which it is accomplished. But the opinions of the pompous and the pious made no difference. The tangible passion at hand was all that mattered. My every sense was enveloped in a rich tapestry—a symphony of passion as with no refrain, just random sighs and moans.

Cassie's oozing walls squeezed me like shrink wrap, then pulsated in rhythmic contractions as her inners flooded and washed my nuts. She bucked her pelvis as wet trickles doused my crotch and thighs. Lan set her tongue's attention to my sac as Cassie's cries faded to pleas of "Come in me!"

"Come in her," repeated Rhett, peering on as he tapped his loins off Lan's buttocks. "Go ahead, Sari, plant your seed in her."

Tucking her chin to her chest, Cassie reached down and gathered Lan's full hair to the left, offering her alpha a better view of our carnal confluence. I shuddered as pangs of incredulity consumed me, heightened by Lan's playful tongue. I wailed as my cock swelled inside Cassie's oozing hug and thumped, heaving a succession of blissful salvoes into her depths. Rhett paused his pace behind Lan as he watched, groaning as loud as Cassie as my hilt twitched beneath her clit.

A pearly ribbon hung from her gaping gash as she dismounted and tugged at my arm. "I-I need a minute," I grunted.

"Hush," she insisted, pulling me off the cushion and onto the floor in front of Lan. "Be her her number one. Kiss her as Rhett comes in her."

I leaned against the sofa, running my fingers through Lan's hair as she rested her palms on my shoulders and peered into my eyes. "This may seem like an odd time to speak of fidelity," she whispered, bumping forward to Rhett's cadence. "But I'll only kiss my alpha. If I do fall in love, it will be with that man. Don't kiss me again if tonight didn't show you—"

I pressed my lips to hers before she could finish. As our tongues lashed and played, Rhett began a long, low groan. His motion ceased as he cried out, but Lan's oscillating hum told of the viscous jets inseminating her precious hollow. Time thumped and slowed around us as my consciousness was catapulted to some ethereal veranda overlooking the esoteric realm. If only for a moment, I was blessed with the acumen of a genius. Shafts of light and shatters of celestial awareness crackled through me. I pictured Lan's form in geometric perfection—synchronized with the intent of the Grand Artificer of the Cosmos.

I snapped back to lucid thought as she broke our kiss and Rhett fell back onto his buttocks with an elated sigh. "Who you are is fine with me," I promised, peering into her eyes. "I-I hope you might consider me your-your—"

That was the first time I saw Lan cry. As a tear rolled down her cheek, Cassie grasped my wrist and brought my fingers to catch it. "Lan's an angel," she declared, pressing my wet finger to my chest. "If you're gonna be her number one, keep her tears close to your heart."

I smiled and pressed Lan's cheek to my chest. As her divine tears ordained me, I turned to Cassie and whispered, "Thanks."

The ever-sassy and wise-cracking Cassie shed a tear of her own. "I've got a guest bedroom," she offered. "You two make yourselves at home."

****

I made love to Lan until just before the sunrise, pausing between interludes as she massaged my back or I hers. Time after time, I purged the deepest recesses of her precious challis until my fervent passion was satisfied that not a drop of Rhett's sperm survived. She kissed me and cooed in my mouth as each new regiment of my pedigree irrigated her inner architecture. Most satisfying of all, she confirmed me as her number one, promising no man would lay a hand on her without me present.

Three years later, beneath the gazebo in Cassie Harmon's back yard, Lanelle d`Chevreaux became Lanelle Shepard. Rhett wasn't there—not in person, at least. He was diagnosed with a small cell carcinoma a few months after my blessed first encounter with Lan. She and I helped Cassie spread his ashes off the cliffs in Newport. Truth be told, we stood lookout while she did, since dispensing cremated remains is illegal. I have no doubt that before Rhett left this earth, Cassie taught him the same truths Lan taught me—truths far beyond the physical aspect of sensuality.

I learned never to fear the most powerful forces within me, nor relegate them to the abnormal or the impure. Lan's loving patience helped me peel back the layers of so called morality strangling the apertures of my private space—the spaces in which people hide their actuality, even from themselves.

Lan showed me that when exploring the recesses of the soul, illusions make for treacherous footing. With her at my side, I was able to peer across the fiery, barren dreamscape of truths long ignored and halt the specter of old nightmares before they crossed into my reality.

Thanks to Lan, I know that the spirit does not blush, and compassion never surrenders to conviction. Woe to the heart that lacks it. When the frosts of solitude nip the leaves of autonomy, it will lack the capital from which to draw contentment, and its beats will impel only shadows of what it might have offered.

I learned that hope is not hygienic. Woe to the heart that has no regrets. It has sanitized the anticipation for which it beats. It is left an empty vessel—a siphon of sterile solitude.

Above all, I learned to pity the ego that rebukes desire. Our desire defines and continues us, yet we are led by the pompous proprietors of indigence to relegate it to the realm of the unclean. We are made to fear it as the seed of damnation. Hence, we are taught that our will is our downfall—that salvation stems from refutation of the inherent truth of our authenticity. But desire should never be feared, because if we fear what defines us, then only fear will define us.

Lan showed me that wholesomeness is relevant only to the heart in which intent is contrasted with the desires of the spirit. We live the desires that others tuck deep into the folds between the self and the soul. We celebrate sensuality while they flaunt their sterile siphon in a façade of pre-eminence.

If tomorrow, some colossal disaster relegates the earth to interstellar dust, those grains will sparkle in testament to the fact that here existed unbounded passion. It happened. It mattered, and its echo will ring eternally in the cosmic archives. Whether it helped or harmed us is irrelevant to anyone but me and my precious Lanelle.