The Book of Ruth: Doing Ruth Pt. 03

I crawled into bed with Ruth. She snuggled against me, still sleeping. I thought about the past and future. Did we have a future?

=====

We stayed mobile and under-the-radar in a series of rentals paid with anonymous cash cards. From the Finger Lakes out to Cape Breton on the far end of Nova Scotia, where we almost tired of eating lobster. A layover outside Quebec - not too much ogling of Québécois femmes - and another beyond Detroit where we ate MidEastern fare. A stop in the Ozarks before lounging around Aspen until smoke of not-too-distant forest fires blew in; and too-chic Jackson Hole; and scattered remote Great Basin campouts; and ever-humid Puget Sound. Then, south to the redwood region of coastal California; we meditated in immense, somber natural cathedrals, god-light breaking through the otherworldly canopy hundreds of feet above.

We stayed in touch with the outside world with bulky cellphones and dialup Internet. My Los Angeles security team reported sporadic surveillance of our home but no physical threats and nothing recent. Our Mexico City escape left no tracks for Mexi-mafiosi to trace - and yes, my manager Mariana's family vanished safely. My communications net seemed not to have been penetrated.

We stayed invisible - and then came the good news.

The late, unlamented Javiér's uncle and mentor died suddenly, alas. Fat old men should not snort so much pure cocaine while sodomizing cute underage prostitutes, ¿si? And it seemed that nobody else in his family or that wing of the PRI gave a good rat's ass about Javiér's untimely demise.

The heat was off, probably. We could return home, maybe - wherever 'home' was now.

=====

"Okay, the big question, babe: What do you want?" I rubbed Ruth's bare ass.

"You mean, like, right now?" She squeezed my cock. "A little love, maybe."

"You're getting more than a little love, y'know?" Jocelyn pinched Ruth's left nipple. Ruth squawked.

We shifted positions; the big cedar-frame bed in the timbered coastal cottage creaked lazily. Waves crashed on the rocks below our cliff-top aerie. Seagulls cried in the Pacific wind under fast-scudding clouds.

Why was my clever cousin in bed with us naked? Well, that started about three weeks into this adventure, when we rented a cabin off Seneca Lake. Weather was good; we bicycled the spectacular lakefront and wore ourselves out in the glacier-carved hills. After one particularly sweaty ride we fell together into the disability-sized shower. We cleaned each other thoroughly. There was no discussion; Ruth took our hands and led us to bed.

"You sure you want this?" Jocelyn and I asked the obvious question together.

"I am abso-fucking-lutely sure about this," Ruth said. She arranged us kneeling face-front in a triad in the middle of the king bed. She held my face and kissed me deeply and did the same with Jocelyn.

"I love you both so much! Ran, I've wanted only you since I was twelve, that's been fourteen years now."

She stroked my hard cock. "Gotcha! And Joss, you've become my best friend ever, much more than a sister. I just feel so much for you! And your body, well..."

She cupped my cousin's ample breast and ran a hand up her delectable thigh. "And I've seen the way you watch Ran. I know you won't mind having a piece of him, right? Even if he's your cousin. Maybe because he's your cousin? Your big, strong, handsome, rich cousin? Maybe you want him just a little, huh?"

Jocelyn blushed. "Well, it's not like he'd be fucking his mother or sister, now, is it?" She looked in Ruth's eyes, not mine. Good thing. I do not know if I could have kept that secret if she had seen my expression.

Ruth did not peer into my eyes either. She knew about me fucking HER mother and sister but not my own. Some layers of secrecy must remain, even now.

I guess Jocelyn's eyes did not tell Ruth we had fucked before. Whew.

My hand joined Ruth's on Jocelyn's inner thighs. The women's hands joined on my cock. We leaned together and kissed, three sets of lips, one breath, one soul, one heart. (And one cock in two pussies and mouths, heh heh. I had not had a threeway in much too long!)

We learned a great deal that evening. We learned even more in the months that followed. We had great fun.

Fast-forward to that wind-lashed cottage on the rocky Mendocino coast in the autumn of 1992. Ruth indeed got her "little bit of love," at both ends. We all did. Hmmm - was the best position Ruth and Joss tightly embracing while I alternated my hard tool between their ravenous pussies? That was pleasant!

We sprawled afterwards.

"What do you want, Ruth? Not just now, but long-term," I asked. "You know we don't need to work. It may not be safe for you to go back to LACMA or do anything else high-profile anytime soon; we'll have to stay low-key for a long time, just in case. This Internet thing is getting big; I could run my consultancy remotely from just about anywhere. But again, there's no need to work. I can just monitor and manage our cash. Hey, pay attention!"

Ruth had Jocelyn's breast in her mouth. "I'm listening, I'm listening." Her eyes closed for a deep slurp; she looked up at me. "Yeah, you can watch our money. Or you can watch this." She slurped again. "Which do you prefer?"

I moved in on Jocelyn's other breast. "Yum, tasty." A big smack! My cousin giggled. I looked back at Ruth.

"So, are you tired of the vagabond life yet? Want to keep moving around? Want to setup a new home base? Want to be a playgirl for the next eighty years or so? And you, Joss? You want to stay on as part of us?"

Jocelyn answered first. "It's been great, kids. This has been the best time if my life! But I think I need to get back to my practice and my community." She squeezed my wife's hand.

"You've made a great recovery, Ruth. We can still talk anytime you need but I think you're on track now. And Ran, you don't seem like a mass-murdering sociopath and I don't see any post-traumatic stress. You can be one cold sonova bitch but I think you're basically healthy, or at least, you're not too deadly nutz. So, my work here is done."

Ruth giggled and tickled me. "Oh Joss, he's nutz all right!"

Jocelyn scooped up my testicles. "He's got big fucking nuts, too!"

Ruth stroked me back to firmness. "He's big all over." Her mouth descended on me for a brief kiss. "Real big." Her mouth engulfed me again.

I protested, "Hey, enough already, I'm drained, gimmee a break!"

Jocelyn fingered my scrotum. "Oh no boy, you don't want us to break it."

We bantered and played. And sucked and fucked again, sure. But I finally extracted an answer from Ruth.

I leaned back against the big quilt-covered cedar headboard. Ruth nuzzled into my right armpit; Jocelyn nestled in my left side. The covers only reached our waists; I had four lovely breasts to survey by glancing down. Both women had a hand my my cock but that soldier was tired now.

Ruth looked at my face. "I've thought about this a lot." Her gaze drifted to the picture window overlooking sea-girt rock stacks and then back to my eyes. "Most of the last few weeks, my head's filled with, 'What now? What next?' And yeah, some of the logic is inescapable." She stared out the window; a flight of pelicans passed.

"I really love my career but no, that's too public, too obvious, too out-there. I don't want to give any PRI dinosaur an opportunity for vengeance. If I got into curation or admin at any gallery, any museum, I'd have to change my name, lose my reputation - and yeah, I was doing all that for name recognition, to be known as a serious player in the art game. It was all for my personal glory. And now that could get me killed, and you, baby. No way." Her eyes captured mine again and returned to the window.

"And yeah, we need a new home base. Damn, I love my house! I grew up there! It's a part of me, it really is - but it's also a target, I know that. We can't go back there, can we, Ran?"

Our eyes locked. I shook my head NO. "Not now. Maybe later."

"And we can never go back to Mexico. Guatemala and Costa Rica might be safe for us, but the dinosaurs will never let us set foot in their domain again, will they?" My head shook NO once more. "So we've gotta go somewhere."

Ruth's long walnut-brown ponytail danced counterpoint to her head-shaking.

"So let's go somewhere. Let's travel. But we need a good home base somewhere and pied-à-terres wherever we feel comfortable. You know where I felt best on this trip? The Sellwood neighborhood in Portland on the Willamette River. Maybe we could get that Queen Anne we saw west of Reed College. It had quite enough space for our collections, enough light, enough land, all like that. Sure, it's not the greatest now, but that neighborhood's improving, yeah. It will be a cozy home."

Ruth's face grew wistful.

"Well, that's not quite true. I really liked Santa Fe best. And San Diego. And even San Antonio. But those are all too close to Mexico, aren't they? I can take a Portland winter. No way do I want to be in the Northeast, too fucking cold there after the leaves change color, and the South is just too swampy and retarded. Fuck Dollywood! New Orleans is a pit. Yeah, I hate DC too," Ruth answered my grin. "So the Sellwood is my choice."

The cottage rental expired. We drove a Rent-A-Wreck Buick to San Francisco for a tearful good-bye with Jocelyn before she flew home to Omaha. Ruth and I took a condo in North Beach for a week while we made our final relocation plans. I burned up the wires arranging purchase and prep of the Sellwood house, indirect delivery of our goodies there, all the domestic necessities.

We settled into the next phase of our life: Becoming Oregonians. Traveling the world. Fucking a lot. And catching blowback. But for now, we were happy.

NEXT: The final episode, THE BOOK OF RUTH: EATING OUT.

Author's note: This story by Hypoxia is copyright (c) 2015 and I'm glad it's finally done. Damn, the tale sure has grown! Your constructive feedback is appreciated. If you like this, join the 1% and VOTE! Thank you...