One Fine Day
Chapter 3
Mark walked the couple of miles down the road to their friend’s house to collect the children. Along the way he dictated notes into a digital recorder. He had spearheaded the creation of the Farside radio telescope on the moon, and while there were enough political names on that project to probably deny him any glory in this lifetime, his colleagues in the world of astronomy knew whose name would be on the great project of the next generation. So while the day-to-day administration of the lunar scope was handled by teams in Geneva, Parkes, Isfahan, and Chicago, he had preferential treatment for targeting which, when combined with the Cerberus Array of visual scopes on Mauna Kea, was leading to a survey of radio stars in the 1 solar mass visual range. The search for extra-solar life was cutting through huge swaths of the sky. Success had to come eventually. Of course his speech would talk about how this glorious fool’s errand of SETI taught us more about ourselves with every sweep of the universe around us.
As the search for life on Mars, Europa, Enceladus, and Ganymede had led to first, conclusive fossilized evidence, then a bacterial equivalent functioning with a type of self-replicating chemical similar to DNA, and on to the self-recreating puddles of ethane slush in the thick atmosphere of Saturn’s moon; life was odder than anyone had ever expected. But intelligence remained elusive off planet. (At least it was finally coming to be recognized in other species here on Earth. Great strides were being made in dolphin, bonobo, chimp, and gorilla communication. He’d even heard of studies on communicating with the higher corvids, African Grey Parrots, and octopi.)
As he passed the garden entrance of El & Cal’s yard he saw his family’s electric van which he had left here yesterday with the kids. E&C used it to haul themselves, their two kids, Rhiannon & Morgan, and the trios’ brood over to Hilo, where there was a carnival yesterday. Mark’d had a custom paint job put on, so it looked like an Enterprise shuttle craft. Yes, major nerd-dom. Inside it was filled with batteries, both kinetic and chemical, that kept it running with minimal charges from the house and the sun. Mark had come up with a flywheel design that utilized a magnetic liquid in the flywheel to adjust the rotational speed and energy load. It had made flywheel technology a lot safer, and had made him yet another bundle of money. (Well, they say money can’t buy you love, but it can sure buy a cleaner environment.)
He knocked on the door and heard behind it s happy screeching, and cries of “Run away! Run away!” in psuedo-Monty Python accents. He sighed. Nothing like a welcome from your family. In a moment Elina opened the door and let him in. “I don’t know how you can take it,” he commiserated with her. “It’s bad enough with the four at our house, and we have professional help.”
“With this many there’s sort of a gumminess. It’s like silly putty. Once you peel it off a surface it holds together, and you just put it where you want it.” Elina gave him one of those smiles that melted his heart. She was a very tall woman, barely a half-head taller than Mark, with short blond-red hair, a long neck, long fingers, and a just slightly weak chin. She was one of those woman who was so beautiful that you didn’t notice she was actually plain-looking. No, that’s not right. She was so thoroughly herself in her body, that it didn’t matter how she looked. She could have been four-foot tall with buck teeth and a hump, and she would be as beautiful. In a generation of perfection, her lanky frame had character. Were her hips a bit wide, her chest a bit undersized, her eyes a little small behind her glasses? She was Elina! It was as foolish as describing a thunder cloud, or the sun. Specifics were weak. Only metaphors could approach her.
So, here was the metaphor of the warrior woman, the valkyrie, wearing a yellow bikini top across her strong, pale chest and a sarong in red and white hibiscuses, rounding up his children from under the sofa. Mark had met El & Cal in a martial arts class after he and the gals had been married a few years. The two families had hit it off intellectually and sexually, and when Mark had brought up the possibility of moving to the islands, it made sense for Cal & El to join them. She was a fine-art painter, and was at home in the island community of artists. He was a food environmentalist, and had been responsible for setting up the working jungle-farming of native crops on the trio’s land. He was smart guy and a good friend. How good? Well, Mark’d come home more than twice to find him in bed with the gals. That meant at least one of the gals had at least one extra opening, and there was room for Mark to join in. In return Cal was cool with anything Mark and Elina did. And as happened occasionally, there was room for five (or more) on the floor of the gym. What was important, even as they all had their varying levels of love for each other, despite who was in whom, was that Mark and the gals shared their hearts with each other, as surely as El & Cal did. If the two families went different ways, that was sad, but not a tragedy.
On the other hand it could be tragic for the kids. But that was another matter.
Mark & Elina rousted all of the kids out, and as it was lunchtime, fed and watered them, before sending them out into the back to play a while longer. In the meantime El and Mark chatted about school starting soon, about behavior, about when her kids would stay with him, etc. They had a nice, easy camaraderie, and casually stroked the backs of each other’s hands, their hands squeezed shoulders, bottoms, hips——little politenesses and thank you’s. Bringing food in from the kitchen, he cupped her right breast, and stroked a little button nipple to firmness. She grazed her lips along the top of his ear. And when the roar of the children faded into the yard, and they had their privacy, there was a hand holding, and a brief kiss. The silence between them was comfortable and warm as she stood apart for a moment and strode back into her strength. They settled into chairs across from each other, and she relaxed again.
“I’m sorry they took it out of you,” he apologized.
“I’ll be fine,” she replied. She stretched, scratching her head and yawning widely. Her arms popped and legs shuddered, and she sighed. “But they had me up so early, I had to slap my clothes on. I didn’t even get a chance to put on underwear.” She spread her legs apart, sliding up her sarong to reveal her neatly trimmed, thin, blond quim. Her lips were standing out, aglisten with moisture,
This was one of those moments where the mind is clearly divided into Superego, Ego, and Id. In a moment out of time all three parts rushed through the door to control his reaction, and they were caught like the Three Stooges. Superego: “Oh, great. I spend the last 18 hours screwing my brains out, I’ve got work to do, and I have another bang scheduled at 3:30, not to mention my regulars at work. I mean, thanks for looking after the kids and all, but aren’t you getting enough? I mean sure it would be nice to have a tumble but—” yada, yada, yada. And Id: “Huhh, huhh, hrowll! Sex! Get her! Leap! Fuck her! Fuck her now!” Luckily Ego elbowed the others aside and spoke first: “Oh, I’m sorry, love. You know I’ve been in such a rush myself today, I didn’t have time to get something to eat for lunch before I left. Do you mind?” And motioning for an invitation.
“Oh, no. That’s fine. I’ll just relax if that’s okay.” and she feigned preparing for a nap.
Mark kneeled in front of her open legs, as she readjusted herself to be more comfortable, with her feet on the edge of the chair, her calves on the wings, and her thighs spread further. Her skin was pale as a Baltic moon over the snow, and she had the delicate perfume of sex and island flowers. He gently kissed the sides of her knees, and licked, in short tiny kisses upwards on her thighs. Each little lick dried quickly in the warm air, and felt like little cool kisses. Her skin was smooth and hairless, and just lightly pinked from the tropical sun, here and there a red freckle belying her Baltic heritage, Mark was in awe and worshipped each place he kissed her. The sweet perfume exuding from her pussy was stoking the fires of his ardor, and he longed to fling himself into her. But instead he proceeded gently, lovingly toward her prize.
Kiss by kiss he approached those standing, delicate folds topped by a soft, cloud-like wisp of red-blond hair. But at the last minute he turned downward to the firm meat of her bottom. He chewed lightly, grazing his teeth against the perfect firm flesh of her ass, stroking her skin with his fingertips. She had an adorable ass, very hard from her regimen of martial kicking. It was always a pleasure to hold it tight. Mark tugged gently at the meat.
The little washed bud of her asshole showed shyly, and there was a lingering scent of soap. Perhaps this morning she had slid a soap-slicked finger into herself, preparing for him. She always kept her anus impeccably clean, and had bragged about it more than once. Mark had always been willing to explore her anally more than Cal had, and he took pride in the fact that she would prepare her bottom especially for him. She had, in hot red nights of past sessions, implored him to fuck her hard in either entrance, and she tried to keep her rear opening lubed and slippery, but here in the light of day he was delicately kissing her anus, softly pressing with his tongue, and would work his way to both holes. She shivered, despite herself, as his tongue slid over the tight puckering, again and again. But gradually he let his thumb stroke her as his tongue moved northward.
The transition from perineum to pussy was gradual, and it took a moment for the first sweet tastes of her fluid to be discernible from the salt of her sweat. Delicately he unfolded each surface of her lips with his tongue, then retreated to a calmer edge. Then approached her depths again to slide off to the side. his other fingers softly rested upon the top of her pubic bone, then stroked her hair, soft as silk.
Within minutes his lower thumb was wet from the juices and saliva that had run down her leg, and he was more insistently, yet still gently working into her bottom. His upper fingers had gently pulled back the hood of her clitoris, and her dampness let him slide the skin gently to the sides, again and again. Her breathing was long and deep, but she remained silent, maintaining the fiction that this was a casual nap while he satisfied his hunger. As his index fingers continued stroking the tops of her folds, his tongue moved southward, letting his upper thumb work along the edges of her pussy, and he slid his tongue once, deeply inside of her before withdrawing it, and pressing it in again, push, push, push, drinking deeply of her juices. He was twitching inside with joyful lust.
In the meantime, his lower thumb had worked itself into the first openings of her tight ass. He was very gentle with it, taking long moments of resting it on the edge of pressing in, before even wiggling it slightly. The opening was sopping from their juices, but he treated her as gently as possible.
His tongue bathed her pussy, swabbing the lips, sucking her juices, tickling her clit, and then jamming it deeply into her several times before retreating to lick again. Her short breaths began to come out as gentle squeaks, and she was obviously trying not to mash herself into his face. He slid his wet thumb finally into her ass, and she clutched at it, catching it between thrusts. Finally she gave up her relaxed posture all together and pressed herself hard down onto his thumb, and forward onto his face. “Hhhhhhahhh,” she breathed out clutching herself into a climax onto him.
He held her with his tongue and thumb, and even more gently rocked her into the snug harbor of warmth before slowly withdrawing. He stood, looking down at her, legs gaping open and relaxed, a wide smile on her lips, and he went into the bathroom to wash his hands and face at the sink.
When he returned, she had snuggled herself into the chair, re-covering her wet pussy and long legs. “Thank you,” she purred. “Would you like me to suck you off or anything?”
He was hard. And he did have that itch in his balls that suggested they be emptied into her mouth. Mark leaned over to kiss her gently. “Not today, lover. Thank you. You are a goddess. Next time we get a chance, though, I’m going to catch your ass up in the air, and screw you silly.”
“Deal,” she sighed.