The Feeling

The Feel

As he sat is his small bedroom within his shared apartment a mile from the university commons his mind brooked no circumstance against the blight of his study. Neck deep in the triangulations of calculated arithmetic and geometric designs he did not notice the entry of his roommate, and most of the time best friend and oddly named, Pieces. The young man was barely holding his feet as he nimbly hopped back and forth on his feet like he had to go to the bathroom.

"Glen." What was that, Glen thought. Was that my name? "Glen." It came more urgently this time.

Glen felt that something was probably trying to interrupt his self-induced study time and force a reentry of his brain into the modicum of true time and space so he looked up. Pieces was there and he inwardly groaned. The young man of twenty-two years was jumping like a little girl in the doll aisle and waving his arms in a 'come hither' gesture with his face ablaze in smile. Glen shook his head, dropped his pen and gave Pieces his full attention. That was all you could give the young man as his annoyance level would grow with every moment you weren't involved in whatever he was trying to tell you.

"What's up?," Glen asked, a little indignantly.

"Dude, I need you - now," came the reply. Pieces' eyes were afire and his mouth was almost agape in the burning smile. That smile, though, gave one the feeling that whatever it was someone was probably going to be arrested or thrown burning into a pool four stories below his present level, even if he was only two stories high.

"Why? I'm busy trying to get this done." Pieces never seemed to have to study, Glen thought. Why is that? Or is it because his family's filthy rich and pays for his grades? Either way it wasn't fair. "I've got to have this done by tomorrow or I'm toast."

Pieces had no sympathy. "Your special powers are really needed right now, man. I've got eight girls in the living room that want to feel it."

"I already told you," Glen started, "that I'm not doing that for you anymore. Don't you remember what happened with the dean's daughter, you dick? Everything would've been fine but you can't keep your mouth shut and I almost got my ass kicked by the entire football team defending you!"

Pieces looked at Glen incredulously. "What? It wasn't the entire football team. Only the offensive line and you can't count that because I had to prove the bet." Glen was looking at his friend's face as Pieces said this and all he could see was an honest, if misplaced, innocence as if Pieces truly believed that his duplicity in the act was good for the stature of honor and good will's pride was still shielded. What a jerk. Why did his supposed friend do this to him? Whatever.

Glen looked at Pieces with all the seriousness he could muster, his eyes alight in a semi-serious fury and said, "Understand that this is the last time." Glen's left hand made swiping gesture as if he were cutting off someone's head or giving the signal to. "THE VERY LAST TIME! Do you get me?" His right hand index finger was pointing at Pieces and his face was not losing its tenor with the serious stare.

Pieces fell back a step, almost aghast and certainly offended with a feign, his hands were waving in front of him in supplication and his head nodding in agreement. Though, with reality playing in spades and the truth marveling at an eerie oddness they both knew it wouldn't be the last time. "Come on," Pieces said with a smirk.

Glen slowly got up from behind his desk and walked out into the living room with his roommate. Around the room lay a U-shape of sofa, two easy chairs and a smallish Not-A-Love Seat (what male roommates, beyond the wonder of a gay couple, is going to have a love seat?) and a coffee table. Breaking the U opposite the sofa and over the table was a sixty inch wide screen with all of the wonder of surround sound, every game console currently used by humanity and a small but heavy duty refrigerator filled with the essentials gaming drink. While the boys called the area the "U" everyone else argued it was a rectangle.

Seated around the room were the eight young women that Pieces said were there. Girls of several ethnic flavors, eight different shades of hair through the blond, brunette, redhead and black color schemes. They were all beautiful and they were all blindfolded. The levels of dress ranged from low-cut tanks and even lower cut shorts to micro-skirts and tees that were near see-through. The blind folds were all black and all the ladies sat calmly with their hands folded in their laps. Glen scoffed at the ability his friend had for bringing the most beautiful young ladies of the college or the nearby main city thoroughfare into his house and squirming himself between their legs. If charisma was named for a human it would be Pieces. Or, more accurately, Carsten Brigaines the Ninth.

Glen looked at Pieces and saw a mischievous grin across his face. His friend knew some awesome fun was going to be had. Of course it was at the expense of Glen, though.

"Alright ladies," Pieces said softly, "I need you all to stand up - be careful now - and reach out with your hands and find the hand next to yours and grab a hold." While he spoke these instructions Pieces was moving to a spot between two of the ladies so he could take their hands in his. At the same time Glen was moving to the equal spot between the ladies opposite of Pieces. When the young men were placed they each had four young women between each hand - Glen's right hand, four ladies, Pieces' left hand, Pieces' right hand, four ladies, Glen's left hand.

With blindfolds still in place the women wound their hands around until they found the one next to theirs. As soon as they grasped the opposite hand it began. They began to feel.

***INTERLUDE OF HISTORY***

When a couple is married there's an expectation of happiness, perhaps perfection, mayhap an emotional delirium that lasts as long as the money, sex and compromises last. Any married couple of the current era - from 1973 to the present - counts those particular references as part of their continued retinue. Even though some of them might not say it. This couple, however, believed in it and lived it.

There were no drunk uncles to ruin the festivities; the vows were true and honest; the love in their eyes could be seen from miles away; and they knew that whatever life threw at them they would be able to handle it together.

Following the course of vows and the reception, as is usual, comes the consummation. If there were perfection in the feeling of the physical act of lovemaking these two had it. They undressed one another with slow and casual but deliberate movements. His hands would remove a garment and he would spend a minimal amount of time kissing the entire area surrounding what had been covered. Her hands would remove a piece of clothing next and touch his skin with warmed hands, rubbing her beautiful fingernails in gentle drags across his skin. They took turns in their removal and by the time they stood naked in the candlelit room his stanchion was standing and hard as granite and her nipples stood so straight it looked as though something was trying to escape.

He dripped and she was moist but still they took their time in pleasuring one another. Her mouth and tongue was magic for him; his mouth and tongue were the prestige of the moment - they licked, sucked, fondled, gaped, gasped and built themselves up for the moment of distinction. When the time arrived he slid up between her legs and he slipped in with gentle pressure and a pulsing dominion of pleasure and she received him with a moan and clasp of her hands through his hair.

His slow movements of in and out increased the lubrication and allowed for faster slides but he kept a pace, a slow pace, that shattered her body's resolve and she exploded her own juices over him. Minutes only, it was. But she was not done. He kept the movement a steady rhythm but she pushed on his shoulder and he immediately understood. They rolled together like dancers and now she was in control. She started on her knees and pushed and pulled back and forth, never lifting from him. Her clit rubbed along his pubis keeping the temper of sensation and building in her another wave. While time was indeterminate it was some time later that she lifted her knees from the bed and brought her feet to flatten on the sheets. Like a jack handle she began lifting and dropping on his manhood, her hands balancing her body on his chest. This was where he lost control. When her lower lips ran over the outside of his glans and then she dropped backed down to him he exploded, sending waves or gallons or tsunamis of his juice into her. As though his own release was a signal she joined him in the exultation of the orgasm.

And then she collapsed on top of him. Her nipples in line with his nipples, still connected and still twitching from the feel.

How long they lay together no one really cares but the sun that was nowhere to be seen when they started now hedged the horizon and filtered into their room when they were finished. They slept connected, awoke connected, slowly slid from the bed connected, walked to the bathroom connected and with some interesting leans and bends were able to turn on the water and then shower connected. He exploded into her too many times to count; she covered him with her juices too many times to care.

In the end there was a child created.

When the child entered the world the pain of birth was not the expectation of medical deliverance; the child was a marvel as he did not cry but cooed; everyone who beheld the child in their eyes and held him in their arms were calmed and filled with peace; as the time to show the child to family and friends arrived it was found that arguing couples found respite or felt blessed in the presence of the child, their fears ebbed and their love grew.

As the child grew and went about to school the other children felt calm and focused. Schoolwork was always finished, by every student, and everyone always came to class. There was no immediate draw to the child. It wasn't as if he were crowded but nor was he spurned. The child was simply there and he was just a child. He played and slept, ate and used the bathroom, fell and bled and cried from pain and ran to his mother to be consoled.

The only difference was that while his mother was consoling him he was also consoling her and the perfection of life that was lost that very morning as an accident took his father and her perfect husband. Her heart broke but was softened by the holding of her first child. Born three years later than the first child the younger sister came into the room and saw the holding and pressed herself in and was welcomed. The love for the second child was no less intense than that of the first but it was different. The boy's touch caused a calmness in the girl just as it did everyone else. However, the girl's touch was the touch of a child: gentle, playful, needy, giddy - all of the things a normal child would touch with.

And so went the formative years of toddler-hood.

When puberty arrived, however, things went a mite awry with the boy. He felt as other pubescent children felt: confused, awkward, misunderstood, misunderstanding of the changes occurring, the why, the when, the how and the hormones. Always the hormones.

His greatest achievement to date lay during his senior year in school when he went to the Young Adult Dance, wherein eighteen was the minimum required age to attend, with a young lady he fancied and they started kissing on the dance floor during a slow song. It seemed as though everyone on the floor found their passions and their lust and sought to bring all of the teenage angst of sex and relationships to war and squelch the meandering time of boredom the faculty thought to enforce. When he felt the girl stop the kiss he opened his eyes to look at her only to find that she was no longer at face level. She had dropped to her knees and began fellating him right there. Many saw and copied; many saw and knew jealousy at the size of his organ; many saw and sought their own venues to entertain their bodies.

After graduating from high school at the tender age of eighteen, and turning nineteen only two months later, he would visit the local strip clubs and cause the dancers to veer toward more explicit moves; he would visit churches and provide consolation for the mourners; he would visit his friends and family he knew were having relationship issues and provide a semblance of calm without ever saying a word - he would also tip in a little of the stronger stuff and let their makeup fun be that much more fulfilling.

And then came college and it all fell to Pieces...

***END INTERLUDE***

Glen's hands were in place. He was holding hands with a redhead with a gorgeous figure, C cup breasts with an accentuating low cut tank that he could barely take his eyes from, on his right; A dark-skinned beauty with thick lips reddened by moisture, a thin tee that allowed the outline of her thin brassiere to be seen and traced and a pair of short shorts that promised that if she bent over you'd have a nice showing of her other lips was on his left. Glen concentrated for a moment, captured the essence with his mind and body - his pheromones were now increasing their natural process and multiplying - and pushed outward with the feeling. The women he held hands with felt it first, of course, because of the immediate contact.

The two women's faces went from the interested-in-the-situation smirk to the beginning of surprise followed quickly by a taste of pleasure that caused their breath to become heavy. The next two in line, on opposite sides, felt it then and began the same crawl into a weird dimension of joy. This change worked its way down the line until it reached Pieces on the radial end. The chord completed its reach and then began to circle back. With Pieces releasing his own steady stream of male pheromones the feeling magnified and caused the women connected to him to encounter the increase.

This increase was found out by Glen and Pieces purely by accident but they discovered that if they tag-teamed those who were between them then the feeling increased in a steady build from point to point and then magnified when it reached back to either of them. As long as Glen was attached, that is.

When the power hit Glen it magnified what he was giving and then went back out again four-fold. The two hands connected to his tightened their grip and he could feel a trickle of sweat from the ebon girl begin to cover his palm. Glen concentrated and gave more power and the sequencing of call and response continued, grew and intensified. Only a couple of minutes had passed at this time. He and Pieces had never tried this many people in a line before and he felt it was an interesting display of control on his part as well as that of his friend.

Glen speared his eyes around the line and watched each woman begin the throes of orgasm. He spied Pieces with his head down, staring at the floor, and a raging hard on trying to push through his sweatpants. Glen knew his friend wore those for easy and quick drop and access of the first girl to find the need. And within three minutes the first need asserted itself. But not where Glen thought it would and not who he thought would be first. His instincts were usually pretty good but they failed this time.

The sweat on Glen's left hand suddenly disappeared and a cool stream of air went over his skin at his realization of the loss of contact. He looked down and saw the gorgeous ebon-skinned woman pulling her shirt over her head. The blindfold peeled away with the lifting of the shirt and she looked only to her right, directly at him.

With the contact lost to the one caused the separation of the feeling from the others on the left side and all three removed their blindfolds. Their faces were a mix between utter contentedness and an excited need that could only be filled by a couple of different, if closely related, actions of sexual premise. Two of them began to undress like the Ebon, shirts first - one had a bra, one didn't - and Glen was lost in the beauty of three getting-naked women. The fourth looked around and found the nearest seat, which was right behind her, ripped off her clothes in a record setting time, sat down and plunged two of her fingers deep into her pussy. The girl's eyes rolled back and she began to moan loudly.

Glen looked around to his right side and saw that since the connection was still live the women and Pieces were in the deepest part of the primate brain and their hormones were ready to fall into the deep end. Glen saw that some of the young ladies had wet spots between their legs and their legs were beginning to weaken and shake from the physical feeling but their hands never let go of the connector.

Then he felt his belt begin to loosen and with surprise he looked down and saw Ebon deftly loosening his pants. So quickly were his pants down that he was sure something was amiss. However, when her mouth covered his flaccid cock he decided nothing was wrong anywhere right this minute. Ebon also immediately came - hard. She froze for a moment, his cock in her mouth, her hands stretched away from her body as though straining for balance and a copious amount of fluid falling from her pussy and trailing down her thighs. Glen was never effected by his power as anyone else was, nor did he harden at the first sight of a naked woman. This wasn't like it was when he was in high school and learning and honing his gift. He never understood why. But right now who cared.

Having regained herself, Ebon wetted his swiftly hardening-within-her-mouth shaft with deft perfection as she lowered further onto him and he rose into her throat. Soon he was rock hard and her saliva ran from his shaft down to his balls. Glen felt there was something sacred here and silence would be the holy way but being a man he couldn't suppress his mouth as he sighed, "That's nice."

Ebon's eyes found his and her hand removed his cock from her mouth in a slow, tongue twirling rhythm. "Yeah," she asked, "you like that?"

He simply nodded and with her hand pushing his manhood against his stomach she lowered and sucked in one of his balls and then the other and then ran her tongue up his shaft to his glans which she covered with her thick lips. Then she took just his head in between her lips and Glen could feel her tongue licking the eye of his serpent with a strange rapidity that sent waves of pleasure through him.

The talking caused the redhead still connected to Glen's right hand to turn her head and lift her chin as if trying to locate the source. As if her ears were not functioning with palpable ability she let go of Glen which caused those connected to her to lose their power flow. Glen looked down and saw the free hand but also that those to the Red's right were still powering through what he had given them. Now, however, the connection was lost and all that was in the room was Glen's delivery of the feel through the solidity of closeness in the room. They all still felt it and were enjoying it.

Red lifted her blindfold and looked around. She saw the others in their passion but when her eyes met Glen's she immediately grabbed his face with both of her hands and pulled his face to hers and kissed him, her tongue breaking through his lips in a rush. Her eyes closed and her passion felt.

He lifted his now free right hand and pulled her to him to meld her shape with his. "Uh, hmmm," Glen heard when he did that. He broke the kiss and looked down at the beauty fellating him and used his left hand to gently grab the back of Ebon's head and shove his cock further into her mouth. When Red saw Ebon's state of dress and what she was doing it was as if something was in the air making her want to be the same way and do the same thing.