The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Livia and I actually drive Cherry to the Candy Store around 10. We were going to hang in the bar before the contest, but given how packed it is we decide to hang in the car instead. Cherry is amazingly optimistic. Her presence dispels many of my own discontents. She really does seem like a brand new woman — confident, flirty, sensual and carefree.

It’s not just the wild, lewd Cherry we saw on stage at the Gemini Escalation either — she can fit in with the rest of society just fine, flirt discretely and talk lucidly and intelligently about things other than sex. We tell her most of the story about what went down on Friday, warning her about potential mean crowds. This also means at least eluding to what happened in the first and second Decans.

Yeah, of course she’s heard about it by now, the banana-eating mass orgasm event and the lesbian strip-show and the telekinetic top-pulling. She’s actually a bit peeved we kept her so sheltered and didn’t let her join the audience. I ask her how Jeri would have reacted. She laughs and is forced to agree. We promise to send her our N-VHS tapes of the show when they’re done being edited, and of the other Escalations too. She’s apparently looking forward to seeing the climax of the Cancer Escalation. Livia promises her private tapes from the cameras inside the tanning hut.

I ask her about name etiquette. She’s actually thought about it. She’s keeping the legal name Jeri, for doing conventional and professional things. She says it’s her Clark Kent. We call her Cherry, though, because that’s who she is. She hasn’t worked out her full future yet, apparently, but there are going to be life changes. She wants to get into dance in a professional way. She’s got the skills, we all agree.

And she wants a nightlife. She’s probably not staying in Philly too long, where her late dad has so many friends. She’s looking at the Big Apple, dreaming of getting into one of the dance academies that act as pipelines into Broadway. I’ve never been to New York, but I hear you can pull it off if you’re smart — lead a really dirty nightlife, and get professional accord by day in the more Bohemian artistic communities. It could work out.

We trade numbers and contact info, but shelve the professional shop talk for now. In retrospect, I say a bit too much at times, tipping my hand as to the background check we did on her, but she’s too happy, horny, excited and just all-around up on the world to notice. Cherry doesn’t want to talk about the future too much, though — it’s the last day of Spring Break! It’s time, she says, to wrap it all up with a bang! I get the distinct impression she means that literally, and Livia and I grin madly at each other.

I promised her a romantic date, I remind her, but I guess it will have to be a lunch date. There are some classy lunch cafes in Lauderdale, but not too many. She blows that off. She knows exactly what we want, and what we do with naïve young ladies, and she’s all-in for that. Looking forward to it, as a matter of fact. Yearning for it. But we need to get her to the airport for seven, so she can catch a flight back to Philly. She’ll take an IOU on the date, though, making me promise to see her again sometime. I ask her if she’s into “partying” with the Trips as a group. She sure is!

There will be shifts, Livia explains. Her and I worked this out before picking Cherry up. The Trips don’t all “party” together — Mimi’s a lesbian, and we’re all feeling wildly grateful to her after the bear-punching stuff. So it’ll be me, Livia and Cherry, and then the three girls, and then me, Livia and Cherry again. Why do I get two shifts and Mimi only one, Cherry wonders? Livia explains: Mimi is multi-orgasmic and likes extended play, whereas I, like any dude, have a refractory period. Cherry finds the degree to which we’ve mapped this all out both amusing and vaguely clinical, but also oddly exciting. This three-shift system actually becomes a recurring routine with the Trips, when we all want to spend some quality time with the same lady.

Livia and I are dressed down. I dyed my hair black, while Livia’s wearing a hairnet and sunglasses. We’re otherwise in casual Spring Break gear — short shorts and colorful shirts. We don’t really want to be recognized at the Candy Store. We take in the tail end of one of their signature Teenie Weenie Bikini contests before the wet t. Cherry is less comfortable openly perving on strange girls than Livia and I — like most women (and unlike Livia) she wants there to be some emotional texture to hang the attraction on. She does enjoy the general atmosphere, though. The crowd seems decent — not mean like at Summers on Friday, but not as mellow as the Gemini third Decan crowd either. Cherry leaves to go backstage and get changed. She kisses me on the cheek as she goes, which pleases me.

The bikini contests are outdoors, but the wet t-shirt is indoors. The Candy Store has bleachers, almost like a sporting event. The crowd is more fully dressed than Summers, and almost uniformly male. I do see some women, however, and they are all girls who were there for the Gemini Escalation. The announcer, a portly man in a cheap tux, calls the girls on stage one by one.

We see some familiar faces, probably because Summers is closed — Roach, Jeanne, the Asian anarchist and Mindy Matthews, among others. My heart leaps when I see Claire, remembering how her last wet t-shirt contest ended. There are about twenty girls in all, including five or six professional models who do this as a racket. Each wears a scanty white top with the words “Candy Store Wet T-Shirt Contestant” written on it in red.

The majority of the girls lose their tops during their individual dance routines. The music is all generic grind-synth stuff without lyrics. There are some quite nice collegiate and model breasts on brazen display, and Livia and I enjoy the show, but mentally we’re all about Cherry today. The women all apparently choose or bring their own bottoms — there are a few cutoff jean-shorts or tight short-shorts, and a number of bikini bottoms. There are also a fair number of white panties, though, usually of the lacy and vaguely translucent variety. Seeing bush at a wet t-shirt contest is fairly exciting, even if it is only a faint outline.

Finally, we get to Cherry. She comes out in a fairly intact, tightly-tied white top and some very daring, smooth white panties with a red elastic. She step onto the stage, and is announced as “Cherry from Philadelphia”, and gets two pitchers of ice-cold water dumped over her chest. The temperature seems to stimulate her, and she runs out and dances. Her moves are very aerobics-inspired, with a rhythmic back-and-forth shoulder pivot set, and then an acrobatic, fist-pumping running-in-place sequence, and then a hip-pivot with legs wide-spread. I wonder if she’s imitating Curtis in Perfect, or a more obscure aerobicise tape she has at home.

It’s actually a quite clever routine for a wet t-shirt contest — her chest is jiggling and bouncing wildly and her nipples are quite clearly visible against the wet white fabric, but she’s not doing the stereotypical “lean down and shake your cans in their faces” move. As a result, it seems — to my sensibility, at least — lewder, because her dancing is really sexy, and her breasts just happen to be salaciously visible. They aren’t the only thing, either — as soon as her panties get wet, a very visible camel toe forms. Her black bush doesn’t stand out against her dark skin the way all the daring brunette white girls’ do, but then she gets to the hip-pivot section, and it’s just really prominent, and she’s totally devoid of any embarrassment in flaunting everything.

Her cheer from the crowd starts out low but just keeps growing until it seems like it’s rattling the rafters. While the girls in the crowd are one in ten at best, I suspect most of them are here specifically to cheer for her after the Gemini Escalation. Their momentum — and that of many of the guys from Summers — just builds and builds, spreading throughout the rest of the crowd.

Her final dance bit involves some very suggestive hip-pumping that gets a big cheer from the crowd — and it helps that she has both the rhythm to pull that off, and the look of raw lust on her face to burn it into people’s minds. I know she’s an exhibitionist, but her Aura is going nuts — not, perhaps, to the same extreme as during the Gemini Escalation, but this is the whole remade being here on stage and her sheer joy moves my soul as much as her tits move my cock. After the hip-thrusts, she sweeps around and flounces back off stage. I realize she never dropped her top, though I don’t think she needed to do so in order to capture the audience’s imagination.

The other girls cycle past after her. I have difficulty paying attention to them. I’m busy creating a fantasy checklist of things I want to do to Cherry with Livia when we get back to the Beast.

And then we get to the part I’ve been waiting for. They bring all the girls out on stage and have them dance together. Cherry is monopolizing the stage. Other girls, most already topless, come over to her, make eye contact, lightly tug her shirt. Mindy Matthews seems icy toward her, but Claire and Jeanne are both very sensual. She makes eye contact with Claire, and guides Claire’s hands up to her neckline. Claire tears her shirt down the middle, exposing Cherry’s amazing breasts to the crowd, and Cherry shakes them triumphally. Then she wraps her arms around Claire’s waist and the two begin a very sensual, intimate kind of dancing.

After several minutes, the finalists are announced — it’s Claire, Cherry and Mindy Matthews. I have a feeling Mindy will win no matter what Cherry does — a wet t-shirt contest victory can be a credential for a model, and it’s often fixed behind the scenes. That sucks — Mindy’s hot, but has no business even being in the finalists given how detached her show was.

Cherry and Claire lean towards each other. Their lips purse. They kiss. Cherry demonstrates her willingness to break all the rules of porn star kissing a third time, and it’s pretty amazing, given that I can see how into it Claire is as well. And from there, it just goes crazy. The two girls’ hands feel all over each other’s bodies. Breasts get rubbed and fondled. Nipples get tweaked, rubbed, flicked, even sucked. Asses get squeezed. Hands start to slide between legs and into panties, without any shyness or restraint.

Cherry’s just playing, but Claire’s getting close to an orgasm — it makes sense, I guess, that Cherry’s sexual threshold is much higher after the Gemini Escalation. This is well outside the normal content for a Candy Store wet t-shirt show. The announcer walks over. “Ladies, ladies, that’s enough. You’re going to have to stop that or you might get disqualified.”

The crowd boos him loudly. Cherry and Claire look at each other. Then they both look at Mindy, who glares back at them. Two pairs of panties fall to the girls’ ankles, almost in unison. The announcer makes some vague and ineffectual comments that they need to stop that, it isn’t allowed, it could get the Candy Store in trouble. No one is moving to stop them, though.

Finally, the announcer confirms that Mindy Matthews has won the Seventh Annual Candy Store Wet T-Shirt Finals. He sets a sash with the title around her neck, and a plastic tiara on her head. The crowd boos very loudly. I do feel sorry for Mindy here — she gets the credential she wanted, at least, which is probably the important thing for her.

At the same time, Cherry moves behind Claire and bends her over the railing at the edge of the stage. Claire is gasping, and her big boobs are bouncing wildly to the crowd’s delight as Cherry aggressively rubs her pussy. The announcer, blushing furiously, is just in the process of handing Mindy a large bouquet of flowers when Cherry finishes finger-fucking Claire to a very wet and very vocal orgasm. Mindy Matthews is not amused.

Everyone else sure is, though, including us.

Livia’s driving, so Cherry decides to sit in my lap on the way back to the Beast. It’d be more romantic if I were eight inches taller and could enwrap her all possessively like in the movies. As it is, though, I’m in a perfect position to kiss and nuzzle the nape of her neck and trace her elegant shoulder-blades with my fingertips — she seems to like that a lot, and it keeps her nicely aroused even after her blatant exhibitionist stunt at the Candy Store.

She seems to feel the need to change positions a lot, squirming around, and I have no objection to this. Soon my hard-on is digging into Cherry’s thigh, which I’m pretty sure pleases her immensely. Cherry had only a brief shower at the Candy Store — they kicked her out as quick as they could. The whole van smells like sex. We’re all tangibly horny. I try not to distract Livia while she’s driving. “How do you feel about the contest?”

“I aced it,” she tells me with a smirk. “I saw the writing on the wall fairly early on, and I went and got myself a prize way sweeter than the formal one. And I’m pretty sure everyone knows who won, too. Did either of you catch the brunette girl’s name?”

“It’s Claire,” Livia says. “I’ll get you her number.”

“Sweet!” Cherry replies. “I’m more interested in you guys right now, though.”

The rest of the ride is silent teasing. We get to the Beast. Cherry and Mimi get formally introduced and shake hands, four days after Mimi ate Cherry out during a prolonged hypnotic orgasm. Cherry kisses Mimi. It’s not quite deep tongue action — more testing the waters — but it’s still pretty sensual. Mimi giggles in delight.

“I believe I owe you something from last time we met,” Cherry says. She takes Mimi’s hand like a knight might take a lady’s, but instead of kissing it she lightly licks between the first two fingers — an oddly sensual rendition of the crude finger gesture used to represent lesbian cunnilingus. Mimi giggles appreciatively, and shows us to the pickup crib.

“So,” Livia says, “it’s almost two. Marc, you’ve got an hour now, and an hour from five to six. That gives us lots of time to get Cherry to the airport.”

Cherry giggles and looks at Livia. The scheduling is still surreal to her, in a whimsical, dreamy way. “And you and I... we get all the time there is, together.”

Livia grins. “Yup! Bi-girls rock! I’d say I hope you like marathon fucking, but we both already know you do.”

So Livia leads the way down to the pickup crib. Cherry is suitably awed by it, laughing in spite of herself. “You’re allowed to laugh at it,” Livia tells her. “It’s suave in its excessiveness. To be truly sexy, one much also embrace being silly, since sex itself is inherently silly.”

Cherry takes in the posters, the TV assembly, the lava lamp banisters, the orange shag carpeting on the walls and ceiling, the disco ball, the big mirrors and TV assembly around the waterbed, the faux zebra-skin rug on the floor. “Let me guess,” Cherry says. “This is Marc’s room.”

Livia grins. “Mine, actually. Girls can be horndogs too, you know.”

“So I’ve discovered,” Cherry replies, laughing. “So this is all you? Marcelo didn’t have any design input?”

“It looked just like this the night I first met Livia,” I confirm to her.

“Wow. Just... wow.”

Livia hustles Cherry toward the washroom.

“Give me and Cherry ten minutes,” Livia says to me. “We’re not starting without you. Go lie on the waterbed.”

So I do so. When the two ladies came out, they’re dressed in matching sexy nurse costumes. My first thought is: after Wednesday, we’re stuffing Cherry in more silly costumes? Really? Hasn’t she had enough? But I look closer, and her Aura is really strong; she seems pleased with the getup. Both girls look really sexy, and Cherry is already in it — might as well go with it.

“Livia told me,” Cherry says, “that you were very heroic on Friday, that you saved two young ladies’ lives.”

“That may be a slight exaggeration, and Mimi deserves the majority of the credit,” I reply.

“And you hurt your leg in the process.”

“Yup.”

“And you got taken down to Holy Cross Health.”

“Yup.”

“And you had a chance to get some tender loving care from a cute blonde nurse, and you turned it down to spend the night with Livia and Mimi in jail.”

“I guess, yeah.”

“Well, Livia was feeling a bit stressed that night, and appreciated it, and asked me if I would help her, ah, demonstrate that gratitude by giving you a taste of what you skipped out on for her.”

“Ladies, that nurse was pretty for an amateur — but she wouldn’t hold a candle to either of you alone. Both of you together...”

They walk closer, hands around each other’s waists. They really do look great in the costumes. Each has a white nylon short-sleeved minidress with red outlines and a red cross over one breast, and a red zipper right down the center. There are also white fishnet stockings, hints of white lacy lingerie under the dress and the stereotypical white cap with a red cross. Both of the costumes are very figure-hugging, with Livia’s especially showing off her double D’s.

They’ve also fixed their makeup. Cherry has a faint metallic copper eyeshadow that gives her a perfect sophisticate look, along with a deep brown shade of lipstick that manages the odd paradox of being both glossy and naturalistic-looking. Livia, well... I take one look at her brilliantly red lipstick and know exactly which sex act she’s looking forward to focusing on. They look like Cosmopolitan models who wandered into the costuming department of a porn set and just decided to run with it. (Porn is probably more fun than a Cosmo shoot, anyway.)

“Lie down and take your clothes off,” Livia says. “We want to give you a thorough examination. A very tactile examination.”

“And a sponge bath,” Cherry adds. She’s holding a metal basin filled with soapy water and two large coral sponges.

I strip down to my boxers and lay back on the waterbed. It sloshes, accommodating my weight. It’s going to be weird, making love on a waterbed, but exciting. I’m shocked I haven’t done it before now, honestly.

Simply visualize this, O Libidinous Reader. You are lying on a waterbed with a clear mattress, naked. The room is shadowy, but the bed is lit from below with a soft tangerine light that illuminates everything on it. Standing over you are two women with centerfold figures in nurse costumes, one holding a pan of soapy water. They get on the bed and start crawling toward you. You’re still half-chub from having one of them sit on you lap in a van. They’re on their hands and knees, crawling toward you. And you’re not faintly wondering if this could really go there, you’re dead certain it will. Pretty nice mental snapshot for the gallery, wouldn’t you say?

Livia glances at Cherry and licks her lips in the most lovely, sensual way. Cherry giggles nervously. “I’m sorry, I’m still really new to all this kind of swinging stuff and I’m not sure what to call it...”

“Licentious and obscene debauchery?” Livia suggests.

Cherry laughs. “Yeah, that works.”

Each of the ladies picks up a sponge and starts working on one of my legs. The water from the bowl is cold, in contrast to the warm waterbed; it’s a nice feeling. There’s a lot of eye contact. “Can I ask you two a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Would you unzip each other a bit? You’d both look wonderful, from that angle.”

Cherry and Livia stand up on their knees on the waterbed, catching each other’s hands for balance as it sloshes around them. Once they have their equilibrium, Cherry leans down. She clasps the red plastic zipper of Livia’s costume in her lips and pulls it down, exposing a more than generous dose of olive cleavage packed into a red lacy bra. Cherry’s face lingers for a few seconds, right in front of Livia’s bust. Then Livia returns the favor.

Cherry looks down at me. “So you’re a breast man, Marcelo?”

If it were other women, I might give a more politically correct answer, something evasive about personality and individuality and it being a whole package, or hers being the best I’ve ever seen. But it’s these two, so I’m perfectly candid and sincere. “I really am, yeah. I love women’s breasts — all kinds, big and small, firm and jiggly. I love to look at them, I love to touch them, I love to feel them on my face and suck on the nipples. And I love the whole body, the feel of a woman’s body pressed against my own, the warmth, the sensation. I loved it when you sat in my lap, and I loved watching the way your breasts moved when you danced back at Summers and the Candy Store.”

I look up at Cherry, wondering if my bluntness will offend her. But it doesn’t. She just giggles proudly. “So you’re a dude. Big shock. It’s not like there weren’t any clues already pointing in that direction.”

She glances down at my half-chub. “And I do mean pointing.”

The girls laugh. I’m brazenly unashamed, even opening my legs a bit more. “And you, Cherry? What do you like in the bedroom? Be honest — I want to please you as much as you want to please me.”

I don’t usually ask girls this. It’s an awkward question and the usual response it gets is either “um... stuff, you know, bedroom stuff”, or some generic quote they read in Cosmopolitan. Girls don’t even always know what they like, and have trouble articulating it when they do. But I want to at least give Cherry the chance. “I like dancing. I like romance. I like to be the center of attention. I do like seeing you naked, even though I suspect I’m not as visual as either of you two. And I like sensations. I like the way things feel on my body. I actually really like this costume.”

As she mentions the uniform, she runs her hands over it. She pulls down the hem and closes her eyes. I suspect she does like dressing up for her partners, but that’s not all — she likes the actual feel of the nylon, the texture of it. And I know in that instant what I’m going to do when it’s Mimi’s time to come in, and how I’m going to drive Cherry wild once Mimi and Livia are finished.

But Cherry continues speaking. “And I’m a bit embarrassed to admit it, but I liked everything you two did during the show on Wednesday. Even the mean bits. You were right, about the humiliation somehow becoming fun. But I don’t want to go through all the... the teasing, I guess you’d call it, again now. I’m ready for the main course today, so to speak.”

By this time, the ladies are working faster on the sponge-bath and have reached my torso. Livia crawls forward, so that her cleavage dominates my field of vision. It’s really impressive, and her corona of curly, luxurious black hair and sensuous expression definitely adds to the effect. I feel the rough sponge, and the icy water, on my crotch. It excites me — probably the only situation I know of where ice water makes a guy harder, but it does. I feel Cherry’s hand lightly graze my cock “accidentally”, and again, and again. Livia leans right over to me, bringing her mouth close to my ear. She licks my earlobe, and it both surprises and sharply arouses me. My cock suddenly gets a lot harder in Cherry’s hand, and she giggles and squirms.

The shifting surface of the waterbed unbalances Cherry, who falls forward into Livia. Droplets of cold water spray about, striking everyone on the bed and causing more squirming. Livia falls forward. Her cleavage ends up pressed directly into my face, which I have no complaints about at all. Cherry is now stroking my cock, up and down, up and down. Her hands are so soft, and her fingers so precise. I get rock hard pretty quick and just stay there. Livia’s breasts feel so great, pressed against my face, straining against the limits of that lacy red bra. We just stay like that for several seconds, and I treasure it. “Marcelo,” Livia finally says, “I love how much you’re enjoying my breasts, but we have to find a position that doesn’t compact my vertebrae here.”

So Cherry helps Livia back up to a sitting position, where she’s kind of straddling my torso. I notice that even the cute little name-tags on the costumes are correct, with plastic sticker-tape saying “Nurse Livia” and “Nurse Cherry” in the oddly indented font produced by the kind of handheld manual label printer seen commonly in department stores. I’m not sure why seeing the names of people you know on their fetish costumes makes the costumes so much sexier, but it sure does — and I don’t doubt Livia knows that, too, what with her thing for props. She sees my glance at the nametags and smirks proudly.

Cherry’s hands don’t go away after she helps Livia up. They slide down to caress, squeeze and massage her ample breasts. Livia’s grinding against me a bit as Cherry gropes her, and the hem of the nylon minidress is working its way up her torso. I can see the panties now — they’re stretchy red lace with full leg-holes, but only about three inches high and incredibly comformant to the shape of her groin. While they’re not really see-through, they might as well be painted on for how much they cling to every curve. Ironically, I hear they call this style of panty ‘boyshorts’ — though there is no doubt in my mind they’re made to accent the most intimate curves of a woman.

Livia is actually grinding more aggressively, now, and biting her lower lip in a way I find very erotic. I slide my own hand down my torso between her legs, palm down, until it slides between her pussy and my chest. She grinds her pussy against the top of my hand, the texture of my knuckles and fingerbones stimulating her pussy lips. I imagine the odd texture pleases her, for much the same reason a dildo might be ribbed or ridged. The panties are pretty wet by now, and I love the subtle lewdness of feeling that on my fingers as her pussy grinds my wristbones and knuckles.

With my other hand, I reach up and pull the zipper on Livia’s minidress down, slowly turning a low V-neckline into a ridiculously low V-neckline. Livia’s breasts are firm and don’t jiggle the way Cherry’s do, but I still enjoy watching them buckle as Livia grinds my hand with increasing vigor. It’s an odd way for a lady to get herself off, but I imagine Livia needs some novelty in the bedroom by this point — and I’m really enjoying watching her. The zipper finally reaches the hem of the nylon dress and it pops open.

Cherry pinches Livia’s nipples a bit hard, and she gives a passionate “mmph” and grinds my hand harder. I guide one of Cherry’s hands downward and she quickly gets the idea, sliding it just far enough into Livia’s panties to massage her clit. This is a threesome, after all — if someone’s going to get off, ideally both the other people involved should be doing something. I love the brief little excited “yay” expression on Cherry’s face, when she gets her hand into those panties and feels how wet Livia is, and how prominent and hard her clit gets when she’s really worked up.

There’s a faint sheen of sweat on Livia’s lovely olive skin, just like the Risqué Rope Routine seared into my mind forever. I reach my hand up and cup her left breast, sliding it inside the lacy bra. Her breast feels as great in my hand as it did during the Cancer Escalation, firm but supple and with a wonderfully prominent hard nipple. Cherry slides back slightly, and I feel the tight nylon hem of her nurse-skirt slide against my cock and finally snap over it. Cherry slides her free hand up Livia’s belly and inside her bra on the other side, to cup her other breast. I pinch her nipple experimentally, and she squirms violently, reaching a hand up to the ceiling assembly and grabbing on tight to steady herself. “Mmph, yeah, that, with the squeezing and pinching! More of that!”

I feel more of her sticky wetness around the hand she’s grinding on. So Cherry and I each pinch one of her nipples, and she arcs her whole body in response. I just have an absolute visual feast before my eyes: Livia, sweating, grinding really fast now, her breasts buckling, her mouth hanging slightly open and her eyelids fluttering. And behind her, Cherry’s face: fascinated and aroused and vaguely nervous about being so rough with another woman’s body — but mostly just awed by Livia’s carnal intensity.

“Hard!” Livia commands. So Cherry and I twist her nipples harder, and Cherry gets more aggressive with her clit. Cherry leans down a bit more to grip Livia harder, and my erect cock presses against her pussy, the abrasive lacy fabric of the panties and the plasticky smoothness of the nylon dress interior providing sensations that are odd but very stimulating.

And I just watch it, drinking it in with my eyes, as Livia grinds her way through a very satisfying orgasm. It is so amazing, so erotic, to watch the expressions on the face of an actual centerfold as she has a really raw, shivering climax — and to feel her on my hand at the same time! I actually consciously concentrate to limit my own pacing — if I wanted to, I could spray a surprise load all over Cherry’s wonderfully scratchy panties right now, just by letting go. Doing so would probably appeal to Livia’s sense of humor, and be pretty satisfying in a perverted way — but it wouldn’t be very classy, and I’m sure my patience will be rewarded.

Once the orgasm is done, I stop pinching Livia’s nipple. Livia lightly taps Cherry’s hand, to get her to stop grinding a clit that, at this point, is probably pretty sensitive. “Thank you,” Livia says. “Thank you both for giving me that wonderful moment. I’m pretty sure that’s the most fun a lady can have with her underwear still on.”

Cherry and I both laugh at that. Cherry’s a bit nervous, but also clearly having fun. “I really hope I didn’t bruise your nipple,” she says.

“Conversely,” Livia responds, gathering her breath, “I really hope you did.”

I slide my hand out from below Livia’s groin, and lick some of her flavor off it playfully. She seems both amused and aroused, so I hold it out to her, in case she wants to taste her own arousal. She leans down to do so — and then everything falls apart.

We’re still on a waterbed, remember, and Livia’s covered with sweat and there’s soapy water everywhere. Well, Livia and Cherry both lean to one side, and the water in the bed shifts, and suddenly the two women straddling me end up in a pile, with Livia sliding off the bed. I admit to prolonging the confusion, and using it as an excuse to feel up both women. Livia finally gets pulled back onto the bed, and her body presses against mine, with Cherry on the other side. “You know,” Livia tells her, “I think you’re wearing far too much clothing for this stage of events. Why don’t you let Marcelo take some off you?”

She assents eagerly. So I pull her zipper all the way open and strip the nurse costume off her. Livia has stripped fully nude herself by this point. “Let me just see if I can get this off,” I tell Cherry as I playfully pretend to have trouble getting her bra off, using this as an excuse to rub and feel her lovely cans and smear soapy water all over her body. She does the same to Livia, and both girls look quite lovely covered in soap and bubbles. Livia and I rub wet, soapy sponges all over Cherry’s body, and she squirms and gasps as we do so.

She’s really worked up by this point — oddly, given how little conventional stimulation she’s had in comparison to Livia. But this is all new and exciting to her — she’s not a virgin, but this is certainly her first threesome, maybe her first time with a woman and maybe even her first genuinely good, sensual sex. Livia seizes Cherry’s panties with her teeth and pulls them down, and Cherry helps her slide them off. I love seeing her swing her long, lovely, dark-skinned dancer’s legs in the air, while they’re glistening with soap and water. She giggles. I cup her breasts playfully. “Okay, Breast Man,” she says. “No more half measures.”

She puts her hands on my shoulders, and using a foot against the bedframe pushes my soap-covered body toward the center. Then she lies directly on top of me, back up, and rubs her soapy chest all over my face, motorboating me. I get my hands involved, too, pressing her breasts together against my face. The nipples are hard, and I start to work on the left breast with my tongue. Her nipple feels great in my mouth. Her skin is so soft and slippery. I caress the right breast with a hand, flicking the nipple playfully. I don’t pinch, though — I’ve got an incredibly good feel for lovers’ tastes, and I don’t think Cherry is into the rough stuff the way that Livia is, or even like Cathy was. And I like this gentleness with her — it feels right for her.

I have my eyes closed, lost in the wonderful feeling of her breasts, for almost a minute before I feel her body language change. I can just tell that Livia slid a slippery finger inside her. It’s not bad — she’s surprised at first, but she likes it and settles into it. She’s squirming against me, and I really like that. And I’m working both her nipples, and she likes that too. And her slippery tits are all over my face, and I really like that! Every so often, her wet thigh will brush my hard cock, or Livia will run the back of her hand along it, and I like that as well.

I can tell from Cherry’s body language alone when Livia adds a second finger, and I slide my free hand down to flick her clit at the same time. It takes less than a minute for her to get off this way. I enjoy her soapy squirming and shuddering greatly, but she quickly signals me to leave off her breasts and clit when she’s done — they’re probably pretty sensitive.

Livia glances at the clock. Eight minutes until I run out to get Mimi. Cherry notices. “Wait,” she says. “Didn’t you have a specific thing in mind you wanted us to do for Marcelo, when you planned the sponge bath?”

“Yes,” Livia grins. “Yes, I did.”

Livia grabs a hand-towel from the bedstand and wipes the soapy water off my genitals. Grinning, I lean back and put my hands behind my head as two gorgeous women crawl over to me and start licking my cock in unison. It’s pretty great, honestly. I’ve been with two girls before, but never with two who were as genuinely enthusiastic about doing this as Livia and Cherry seem to be. It’s amazing to watch — the glamour makeup really makes it just perfect — and I put on an appropriately arrogant and cocky expression (pun intended) as the two ladies work, figuring correctly that they’ll both appreciate it. There’s a lot of eye contact here, and unlike in a standing blowjob we’re all in a position where the eye contact just happens naturally. I use the special talents I’ve developed to give both ladies a solid motive to maintain that eye contact, too, as they take turns sucking my dick.

“Did you know,” Livia says, “Marcelo once shot off all over my face without even warning me first? It was all sticky and messy, and such a total shock to me at the time.”

“Marcelo?” Cherry asks.

I shrug indifferently. “It was a special night,” I say. “A unique situation.”

“Are you sure?” Livia asks. “I just want to make certain you’re not looking for a new opportunity to unexpectedly hose down one of our conquests. Would that make you hot, seeing your sticky cum all over Cherry’s face?”

Livia is clearly enchanted with this idea. Cherry might be willing to give it a try, but doesn’t look intensely aroused at the idea. No shock there — most girls aren’t. Livia’s a very special, very kinky exception there, as she is in so many other places. She reaches a soap-covered hand out and wraps it very tightly against the tip of my cock, and then pulls down — her fingers like a really tight ring my cock penetrates. It’s really, really stimulating — as is the faintly awed, aroused expression on Cherry’s face as she adores my cock. I’m gonna come, like right now. But I reach out a hand, grab Cherry and pull her about a foot and a half toward me. She slides easily along the soapy wet mattress.

Then I unload on Livia’s face — yes, again, though it’s totally her fault this time — leaving a hot string of sticky cum stuck to the olive skin of her left cheek. Cherry’s taut torso presses against my cock, though, and I unload the rest on to her, leaving streaks and globules of cum on her belly, tits and even the soft, supple skin of her neck. I even get a glob right in her navel. And... wow, it’s just amazing to look at. Remember the thing with the whipped cream and her skin tone, and how it just seems to mesh perfectly in the color contrast? Well, my cum is white and almost radiant to look at, and it looks just amazingly lurid on her deep mahogany skin. And she yelps, ever so slightly, and looks absolutely adorable and quite pleased. And I’m happy too, that I get to see her grinning nervously but playfully rather than looking vaguely grossed out.

Livia leans toward Cherry, though, staring at my ejaculate scattered across her torso. She licks her lips, leans forward and sensually licks a strand of cum off of Cherry’s belly. Cherry is just puzzled and amused by this, being somewhat new to the whole debauchery thing — I don’t imagine her being a big porn watcher like Livia and I are. Cherry stares at Livia’s face, at the pearl-white rope clinging to her centerfold cheek, fascination and intrigue slowly wiping away the revulsion on her face. I think Livia is very pleased and aroused by that look, meeting Cherry’s gaze with a dominant, sensual stare of her own.

The intensity only lasts a second, though. Cherry laughs ferociously, squirms and blushes when Livia’s tongue enters her navel to clean it out — and I’m really glad I got to see her reaction to that. Livia works her way up Cherry’s body, leaving red lipstick marks as she goes. I watch her lips press against the side of Cherry’s breast, licking it clean. She does take a slight detour to taste one of those lovely nipples, despite there not being any cum there, and I can’t blame her in the slightest. And then the most sensual bit, the cum that got all the way up her neck to the underside of her chin. She tilts her head back to give Livia full access.

Wow, watching Livia lick the nape of Cherry’s neck clean of cum is simultaneously perverted and bizarrely classy. It’s the kind of thing you expect to see in an X-rated fashion photoshoot for some underground vodka label, with the women involved all wearing expensive fur coats and diamond jewelry. It’s amazingly sexy, and better still Cherry does in fact have the exact expression you’d want a girl to have in a photo like that — eyes closed and mouth slightly open in sensual arousal.

“Wow,” Cherry says after Livia finishes the unprovoked tongue-bath. She’s both amazed and aroused. “I mean, just, wow. I’ve never even seen anything that pervy, let alone done it myself. That was... kinda... Do... do you two do stuff like this a lot?”

“It’s why we got into the business we’re in,” I tell Cherry. It’s the truth, but it’s also a smooth evasion to keep up the mystique — and I can tell Cherry is grooving quite hard on the Trips’ mystique at the moment, so why burst her bubble? In reality, it is why both of us are in the weird business we’re in, but it’s also the first time I’ve truly shared a girl with Livia.

I want to stay here. I want to cuddle with Cherry and Livia, and whisper obscenities and comforting thoughts alike to both of them, and just learn more about this amazing dancer in the medium of pillow-talk. But what I want even more is to avoid stealing even one minute of pleasure from the brilliant lesbian bimbo who quite literally saved my life just two days prior (and also didn’t break my nose when I accidentally ejaculated on her). So I jump up, grab a full size towel from beside the shower and wrap it around my waist, feeling my injured leg pulse as I do so.

“I’ll go get Mimi,” I tell Cherry. “You three enjoy yourselves. Cherry, don’t worry if you get tired out and want to call it a night. I got my rocks off and had an amazingly wonderful time.”

Then, with tragically little time for small talk, I dart toward the door — and then hobble the rest of the way, given my leg and the stinging of the soapy water seeping into the bandages.

I make my way through the cramped but ornately decorated corridors of the Great Beast and rap twice on the door with the glittery pink star and the word “Mimi” on the front. “Okay, Mims, there are two gorgeous ladies in the crib. They’re wet, willing and ready for you. Oh, and I’m pretty sure there’s a bunch of pies and custard in the mini-fridge in there. Word of advice? I’m pretty sure Cherry likes temperature stimulation and tactile sensations in the bedroom, so try that if you wanna see her get really wild. I’d say go break a leg, but given my current straights that phrase isn’t all that appealing. So just go have amazing amounts of kinky fun.”

Mimi opens the door nearly instantly. She has her hair done up for maximum volume, and is wearing a pink babydoll negligee with poofy sleeves and anklets, and pink bunny slippers. The getup is more silly than sexy, but combined with her girlishly enthusiastic look it’s adorable — and, of course, it’s hard for any lingerie to not be scorching when you stuff Mimi’s slobberknockers into it. “Ooh, thanks, Marcie! Thank you so much!”

She hugs me and kisses me on the cheek and runs off, leaving the door to her room ajar as she skips off gleefully down the corridor. Sheer pinkness radiates out of the room. As soon as she’s gone, I can’t help but take a look inside — more out of genuine curiosity about my coworker and friend than any sexual impulse, though. It’s exactly what I expected it to be, but turned up to eleven.

The floor is glossy purple. The front and back walls are hot, neon pink. The east and west walls are pastel pink. The ceiling is pinkish-white. An ornate crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling — given the cramped spaces, it’s low enough that she has to duck to avoid bumping her head. It’s actually quite an elaborate and artistic work, with glass pieces ranging from deep purple to various shadows of pink and red to clear white. There are posters for Jem and the Holograms, Disney’s Beauty and the Beast and My Little Pony, featuring two pink cartoon ponies I will later learn are called Cotton Candy and Lickety-Split. I wonder if she actually watches the children’s cartoons, or just has the posters for thematic aesthetics.

There’s a walk-in closet with rows of mostly-pink shoes, and a whole wall which is dedicated to an elaborate dresser and makeup station with a big heart-shaped mirror. The golden brass frame to her bed is heart-shaped as well. There’s a large pink stuffed rhinoceros, and a purple stuffed zebra. The east wall is covered with purple bookshelves, but rather than being filled with books they’re covered in an odd assortment of dolls — troll figurines with upswept rainbow hair, Cabbage Patch dolls in various shades of pink, as well as some more antique porcelain dolls which she has the good taste to not recolor or modify — those ones are actual art. And a variety of novelty plushies.

There’s an Apple Macintosh painted pastel purple and covered with prismatic stickers, various snowglobes and a number of different sets of rollerblades. An alcove by the bed holds neatly sorted rows of Little Pink Dress cassettes for her Walkman, along with some bubblegum pop. There’s also a ton of iridescent stickers on various things in the room, and lots of other knick-knacks that glitter or shine. The room is way bigger than mine, but not by enough for everything in it — there’s maybe three square yards total of floorspace not used by something. Between that and the low-hanging chandelier, it’s got to be awkward to actually live in.

I suddenly feel a bit ashamed, staring into my friend’s room, and shut the door with a quiet but firm click. Of course, that room was made to be shown off, not kept private — but the target audience is probably female lovers, not me. I do wonder, though, how many bi or lesbian girls would react well to that — outside the Trips, lesbians I’ve met have never been into excessive femininity. Even lipstick lesbians seem to go more for the aristocratic or business sophisticate aesthetics than the Daddy’s Little Girl look. But it might not be for macking as much as it is for Mimi to just express something that’s important to her, I guess.

An eerie thought occurs to me, then — I realize just how imitative of Livia Mimi can be, but always imposing her own aesthetics. Livia’s got big hair, so Mimi gets bigger hair. Livia’s got big cans, and Mimi has bigger cans. Livia’s tacky, so Mimi has to be tackier. Livia has a theme bedroom, so Mimi has an even more aggressively themed bedroom. Livia’s persona is larger-than-life, so Mimi’s needs to be even more caricatural — but while Livia’s bombastic charisma comes off as her natural self, I’m not as sure with Mimi. She is, in a way, actively anti-individualist — a person who yearns for others to reshape her whole being into their own ideal. I think it comes more from kink than low self-esteem, though, which makes it better. Maybe.

Regardless, I make my way to the store-room that has the Noodle shower stall, and hook it up. There’s only two showers in the Beast — that one and the one in Livia’s bedroom. So I shower quickly, then head back to my room and wash, clean and re-wrap the bandages on my leg. The cut is healing nicely; I don’t want soapy water to aggravate that.

Then I head down to our prop room and locate some things I’m looking for. A very smooth-feeling silk camisole. A torn burlap sack that I cut into a long strip about a foot by two feet. A snakeskin purse. The discarded feather duster from the French Maid costume. A pair of rubber gloves from the kitchen, the kind used for washing dishes. And, of course, a blindfold. I consider a Wartenberg pinwheel, but decide against it — that isn’t exactly what I have in mind, and after three hours of sex I doubt that Cherry will be into slow foreplay in the fourth. I put all these things in a cute little Macy’s bag I find in the prop room.

I have both selfish and altruistic objectives in mind here. I want to show Cherry a really wild time, figure out what she likes and give it to her. But I also really want to see her squirm and writhe again. The hypnotic orgasm was pretty insane — I know we aren’t getting her to that extreme again, but I do want to get her as worked up as possible. I genuinely love watching women overcome with lust and sexual pleasure.

I’m many different sorts of voyeur — I like everything from bikini contests and public flashing to just watching women in the carnal act. Unlike many voyeurs, I have no interest in things that aren’t sexual to their subjects, like watching women go pee or spying on them in their everyday lives. But watching aroused women — yes, I like that. Of the porn tapes I own, a surprising amount just feature girls masturbating sensually. Maybe that’s why I’m such a good lover — to get myself off, I need to get her off too. I enjoy her pleasure. I drink it in with my eyes.

I go back to my room. Still an hour and twenty minutes. I had, in theory, planned to watch a film to pass the time. I’m ten minutes into The Magnificent Seven when I realize that isn’t going to work. I have images in my mind that have nothing to do with classic Westerns. I can hear the moans, laughter, sploshing sounds and skin-slapping of Mimi, Livia and Cherry. I know exactly what I want to watch for the next hour.

So I creep down to the AV room to cue up the raw footage we have from the Gemini Escalation. It’s not a part of the Beast I’ve spent any real time in — the same footage can be watched in Livia’s pickup crib, after all. But it’s also not closed to me or Livia — at least, I’ve never been told it is. I get inside and look around, and immediately notice many things. I know I’m entering a nerd lair because of all the cables and circuit boards hanging everywhere, and the specific kind of exacting clutter that appears as organized to exactly one mind in all the universe while being a mad chaotic miasma to everyone else.

The left side is packed with monitors, and Mimi’s expansive work desk is beside it. There’s three very high-end computers. One of them — a NeXTCube station — is a weird black cube that looks more like an alien artifact than any computer I’ve ever seen. It’s wired up to three separate phone cradles, so I understand that’s where the hacking happens. It’s also where she writes the Objective C code that renders the binaural audio tapes, and the timing scripts for Livia’s RC amethyst that supposedly synchs up with the timing of human brainwaves. I’m not sure if that’s stage patter I playfully haven’t been made savvy to or actually a thing, honestly. It’s got an EPROM burner hooked up as a peripheral, presumably for Livia’s more complex props that have actual embedded systems programming.

The second is a Macintosh, though you wouldn’t know that by looking at it — it’s one of the new, really expensive color Macs where the monitor isn’t built into the case, so it resembles an IBM PC. It’s for brochures, leaflets and other print-work, as well as computer-mail correspondence and Usenet. The third rig is an Amiga 3000T, wired up to a Video Toaster. Mimi uses it to manipulate raw footage, adding credits and titles and such, as well as for color correction, comedy animations and blurring people’s faces.

A lot of her work is anachronistically pen-and-paper, however — I can see three-ring notebooks scattered everywhere, full of timestamps and Editing Decision Lists in neatly-packed, hyper-feminine handwriting. The right wall is covered with bookshelves full of neatly-labelled 35mm film spools. She can edit and review the footage on the Video Toaster, I understand, but only at about VHS quality or lower — then she takes the filmstock and EDLs to a third-party post-production facility for the final linear composition editing. It’s a crazy amount of detail work.

There’s a fair bit of personal shit here as well. There’s stacks of historical and sci-fi novels — Michener’s Chesapeake and Mexico, Clark’s 2001, Ender’s Game, Blood Music, Neuromancer and lots of Heinlein. There’s NASA decals, an Alien movie poster and a shirtless Christian Slater bad-boy poster. There’s a flute and some sheet music, a big steel dildo and a varsity jacket hung on a hook with two intertwined hearts sewn on it. There’s a table with an open sketchbook, which I flip through without thinking. Lots of sketches of Livia being sexy, but also of celebrities, scenes from TV shows and mechanical designs. Some of it is erotic, but most of it is just imaginative. It isn’t until I come to design sketches of the bikini-stealing helicopter that I realize Mimi actually drew everything.

It suddenly clicks with me — given the intense theming of her bedroom, Mimi must stow all the personal stuff she has that doesn’t fit a bimbo persona here. That makes logical sense in terms of how hypnotism works, if she wants her bedroom to reinforce her hypnotic suggestions. It does seem eerily schismatic, though.

I consciously cut off my pop-psych analysis of Mimi. The lady might have two sides to her personality, but she clearly manages them well enough to be both brutally competent and deeply moral, as she demonstrated when she saved my life. Given that she’s clearly both happy and effective, what business do I have trying to figure her out? Besides, Livia’s an actual shrink and I’m just a pickup artist with a curious streak. So I consciously keep out of anything else that looks personal, and do what I came here to do: cue up footage of Cherry’s disco dance, her giving me a lap dance, her having a hypnotic orgasm. It’s easy to do — I guess Livia’s crib TV is wired to the Amiga, because the graphical interface is the same — and even as raw footage the show is as good as I remember it.

Mimi knocks on the AV door twenty minutes early. I shut off the footage. “You weren’t in your room,” she says.

“Sorry,” I reply. “I decided to rewatch bits of the Gemini footage.”

She giggles. I open the door. I would ask her if she’s sure she’s done, but when I see her face I don’t need to. There’s a visible haze of contented afterglow — the nimbus of a person fucked hard and left deeply satiated, and quite pleased with herself while being ready for a nap. She also has clumps of pie crust in her now-tangled hair. “Ready for round two, big boy?”

Yes. Yes, I am.

When I get back into the pickup crib, I see a disaster area. The waterbed is covered with pie gunk, custard and assorted other goo. The floor is relatively clean, save for multi-colored footprints leading to the shower. Livia and Cherry are just getting in — I guess Mimi showered first while they cuddled. They’re just in the process of cleaning off layers of goo. I find I really want to join them. I’ve seen too many Cinemax softcore films not to find shower sex really hot. “So,” I ask Cherry, “what do you think of Mimi’s food fixation?”

Cherry laughs. “It’s odd. It feels really neat at first, and very... I don’t know, naughty in a playful way, I guess, to make a huge mess with food. The sensation is nice, but it doesn’t go away, and you gradually just start to feel greasy. I mean, literally greasy and sticky, because the food is oily.”

I laugh. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

So, not her fetish, though reading her Aura I’m pretty sure she still got a lot out of the last two hours. She just had some wildly explosive orgasms; I can tell from her body language. And I do find it erotic, seeing her and Livia naked and covered with mess. WAM was not originally one of my fetishes, but by this point I’m pretty sure it’s growing on me for good. “May I join you in the shower, ladies? You both look very enticing when wet.”

“Ooh yeah,” Livia says. “We’re very, very dirty. Help us get cleaned up.”

I’m smart this time. Before getting in the shower, I wrap Saran Wrap around the fresh bandages on my leg, so it doesn’t get wet again. As I do so, I watch the silhouettes of Livia and Cherry naked, teasing each other, through the faintly frosted shower door. Then I shed the bathrobe and boxers and step into the shower. I’m already clean from the prop shower, but that’s not the point.

Livia’s shower is made for sex. It’s spacious — ridiculously so, when one considers it’s part of a huge RV. It’s got textured rubber flooring that gives a firm grip for the feet, extensible corded waterjet shower-heads and an industrial drain with a screw-on grille — I suspect Livia and Mimi do most of their WAM stuff in here, saving the bed (and attendant cleanup) for special occasions. The rear wall is a big mirror. There’s little sockets in the other two walls that a table can be mounted on, to use the shower for erotic massages. I can’t honestly say I’m paying attention to the shower, though.

Livia and Cherry both look great naked and wet. I walk up behind Cherry and run my hands along her body. Her wet skin feels great. I do actually pick up one of the sea sponges and rub down her back for her, scrubbing the mess off. There’s a slight bit of pie filling on the back of her neck, though, and that’s just too fine an opportunity to miss. “You’ve got a bit on your neck,” I tell her. “Let me just get that.”

I lean in and lick the nape of her neck, slowly and sensually, tasting banana cream and the tang of Cherry’s perfume. She moans softly in delight. Livia is struggling with sticky clumps in her hair, so she’s going to be longer. I do enjoy watching her fidget a bit as she struggles to get it out. She has her hands above her head in her hair, which along with the wet skin really accentuates her centerfold body. Cherry’s watching Livia, too, and I don’t blame her. I lean in and whisper very softly to Cherry. “Grab her tits,” I tell Cherry. “Just do it. You can be rough. I promise Livia will enjoy it. I know her.”

Cherry hesitates for a second, uncertain. Then she reaches forward and grabs Livia’s teardrop boobies with both hands, squeezing the soapy olive flesh. Livia jolts in shock for a second and staggers, grabbing one of the handholds. “Marc told me to do it!” Cherry stammers, scared.

Livia purrs, keeping her eyes closed to avoid the shampoo. “Marc knows exactly what I like. Go on, get a good feel.”

As Cherry massages and handles Livia’s glistening breasts, I slide my hands around to feel her own, gently tweaking her fat black nipples. My erection presses against Cherry’s taut ass cheek, and she giggles nervously. I slip one hand downward, sliding it between her legs, rubbing her gently. I feel her radiant feminine heat on my fingers, and she grinds her ass on my cock in response.

She really likes feeling me get erect, and I like that in response. Some girls — even ones who like sex a lot in general — are grossed out by causing a hard-on, or don’t want to dwell on it. I love that I can grind against Cherry and she gives a soft little sigh and just responds really genuinely with enjoyment. My cock slides up and down her thigh as I rub her pussy. “I’m getting all worked up again,” she says.

“Watching Livia naked tends to do that,” I agree. “Did you know she was in Clubhouse?”

“Wow.”

Cherry reaches around behind herself and grabs my cock, still looking at Livia’s glistening body. She closes her legs, then guides my cock between them — not toward her pussy, but just between the thighs. “I do know one or two sex tricks,” she tells me. “Pump. Push it between my legs.”

I do so. She has them clamped tightly shut, so I have to push to get it in. “You see? I can get a guy off with my thighs. Girls can use it if they don’t want to go all the way, or just for foreplay, to get a guy hard. Keep going, but don’t finish, please. I want you for real later.”

I’ve had a thighjob before, but Cherry’s good at it and it does feel really nice. I don’t say anything about it — claiming she was teaching me would get laughed at, but I also don’t want to boast about already having seen her trick. Instead, I edge Cherry forward as Livia turns around, eyes closed, with shampoo in her hair. Cherry reaches out, hugs Livia. Their bodies push against each other. I keep sliding in and out of Cherry’s thighs. I’m fully hard now. Cherry kisses Livia on the lips, sensually. It’s not quite as lewd as the kisses Cherry forced Jeri to give Livia in the Gemini Escalation — more sensual — but it’s still hot.

Then Livia leans over and kisses me. Her lips taste great. Her mouth tastes vaguely of custard — there must have been some intense licking going on an hour ago. I move still further forward, pressing Livia against the shower wall, crushing Cherry against Livia and my own body against Cherry’s back. I love how Cherry and Livia’s bodies and breasts look in the mirrored shower wall, crushed against each other tightly. Cherry gets a hand between Livia’s legs and fingers her a bit.

I love shower sex. I’d happily spend the whole hour in here. But I don’t want my leg to get too wet, and I strongly suspect this is not the last opportunity I’ll get to have a threesome with Livia in this specific shower. So Cherry and I get out. We towel each other off, taking the opportunity for all the naughty rubbing and squeezing one would expect — Cherry just as much as me, honestly. This goes on for ten minutes or more, and I finally lead Cherry over to the zebraskin rug — that area, unlike the bed, being clean of food mess. I set her down on it, on her back.

She has a wide smile on her face, and spreads her legs and arms up and down like a child making snow angels in the new-fallen snow. She likes the feel of the synthetic hair on her body, and squirms slightly whenever static electricity from her movement on the rug gives her a little shock. “I have a theory about you, and what gets you off best, that I’d like to test,” I say in my best suave voice.

She looks intrigued. “Okay, I’m listening. I hope it involves your cock, though.”

I laugh. “Well, yes, later. This is more about how to enhance that — or what else you can feel during it. I noticed you have rough calluses on the balls of your feet —”

She blushes, and it’s not the fun kind of embarrassed. “I’m a dancer. When you dance, you eventually get those.”

“No, no, I didn’t mean that critically! I was just saying, I noticed how you rubbed them on your ankles for stimulation, enjoying the texture, during your hypnotic orgasm. I also noticed how vividly you reacted to the cold pies and being splashed with the cold water during the sponge-bath, and the feel of the nylon nurse costume. I’d like —”

I trail off speaking. I’m pretty sure Cherry’s attention trails off at the same point. Livia has come out of the shower and is kneeling down to towel herself dry. She glows with lust and impatience. I love Livia’s fluffy, high-volume glamour-girl hair, but she also looks amazing with it straight, slicked back with water and slightly tangled — less showgirl, more raw passion. And she spreads her legs as she dries her damp body. I forgot how absolutely perfect her big, curly black bush looks when her legs are spread, going down all the way around her pussy lips. She sees where both Cherry and I are looking and grins wickedly, spreading her legs further and adopting an intentionally provocative pose. “Get over here, Liv,” I tell her. “I’m just explaining to Cherry a game I want to try with her — and you can help.”

So Livia comes over and sits on the rug with us, wearing nothing but some very come-hither body language. As I’ve said before, her skin is absolutely radiant and entrancing when it’s slightly damp. “As I was saying before we were presented with such a delicious distraction, I’m pretty sure Cherry is really tactile in her sexuality, so I want to play a game with her and you I think she’ll really enjoy. I’ve got a blindfold here in this bag, and I’m going to blindfold Cherry. Then I’m going to rub different things on her body and see if she can guess what they are. Nothing unsavory, gross or painful, mind you — just things that feel different.”

“This sounds really fun,” Cherry says. “What about Livia?”

“Well,” I say. “Mimi and I both got a taste of you, during the Gemini show. And, may I say, you taste really nice. It seems only fair that Livia gets the same experience. I’m not sure if you two already —”

“Oh, she sure did,” Cherry affirms gleefully.

“Pussy is like ice cream,” Livia quips. “I’m always up for seconds.”

Cherry giggles. “Oh my god, Livia!”

Livia shrugs, unabashed. “Sorry, hon. Tacky is just what we do.”

I nod. “You already know I like me some big double scoops.”

Everyone giggles.

“So,” I say, “while you try to guess what I’m touching you with, Livia will try and distract you — with her tongue, or anything else she feels like using. Then we’ll switch off, and Livia will rub things on you while I distract you with my tongue — and other body parts.”

Livia licks her lips hungrily. Cherry grins. “Okay. I’m in.”

So I pull the blindfold out of the bag and help Cherry put it on. Give me a moment here, for a brief aside about blindfolds for all the horndogs and would-be Lotharios in my readership. You should own one. It should be a nice, expensive one. It should look like a prop from a Zalman King movie. It should be both classy and very secure, covering the whole field of vision and making peeking easy to notice. Now, you may say, that’s not really my kink, because you’re thinking of Cinemax or 9½ Weeks. And that’s fine — it’s not my favorite aesthetic either. It might well be your dream girl’s, though, which is one reason you want that blindfold — fulfill her fantasies and she’ll fulfill yours! But there’s also a much lewder reason every frat guy ought to own one of these babies.

The vast majority of guys share a very simple, basic love: we gain great enjoyment from looking at women’s bodies. The longer, the closer, the better. We want to stare. But women — even high-libido women — usually don’t like to be directly stared at for too long. It might be the feminist programming in the background of our culture, telling them not to let themselves be “objectified,” that anything pleasing to male sexuality is inherently debasing to women.

It can also invoke a woman’s more self-critical nature — lust can be clear in your eyes, and your body language can make it clear that you are adoring and even worshipping every curve of her body, but stare too long and she’s still going to have a mild paranoia attack that you’re noticing her flaws and find her to be unattractive.

But slip the blindfold on her in the bedroom and keep up some light sensual foreplay — and you can stare all you want at her best bits from right up close without making her uncomfortable. Better still, you can tease her while you do so, and devour her with your eyes as she squirms and moans her way toward a very sensual orgasm. It’s up to you whether you want to transition from this into some very passionate fucking or just enjoy the visual feast as she comes.

From her perspective, the lights are nice and dim (well, pitch black), and she feels comfortable and sensual. From yours, well, you can turn them up if you want, and she’ll be more comfortable than you’ve ever seen a (non-model) naked girl in a well-lit room be. Pretty neat, huh?

Now, I’ve got a lot more leeway with Cherry — she’s a natural exhibitionist and very comfortable with us by this point, and was just openly staring at Livia’s you-know-what. But, even though Cherry’s a very special girl, I’m still excited about getting the blindfold on her. Once it’s secure, Livia and I share a glance — I’ve explained my blindfold theory in the past, and she adores it. And she’s very much with the guys on this one — her sexuality is as visual as Cherry’s is tactile.

I start with the silk camisole. No one actually puts it on, I just rub it over Cherry’s belly, and then her tits. She makes a soft cooing sound, and squirms slightly. Livia starts licking her inner thighs. I move upward, running the silk fabric over her breasts. The nipples get hard and very prominent quickly. Well, most people like the feel of silk on their skin — next one’s the real test. I take the burlap strip out of the bag and wrap it around my hand.

Livia’s between Cherry’s legs, now, eating sensually. I stroke Cherry’s ankles with the burlap, and she almost immediately goes rigid — the same straight, curled-toes pose she had during parts of the hypnotic orgasm. She’s biting her lip. Wow, that’s hot. I gradually work my way up her body, tracing the burlap along her thigh. I meet Livia’s gaze from all of two inches away as she licks Cherry’s pussy. Livia seems to grin with her eyes. I know, right? It’s pretty great between those legs...

I watch Livia skillfully use her tongue for a few minutes from incredibly close up, and I watch that taut mahogany tummy clench and writhe under her ministrations, stroking it with the burlap to add sensory stimulation. When I move up to the nipples with the rough burlap, Cherry arches her back and thrashes, squirming, almost like a combination of a seizure and sexual pleasure. I was definitely right about how to get her off! I go slow with this, building her up and taking the opportunity to just stare at her writhing body. I can’t resist using my hands a bit, too, just because I want to feel those nipples when they’re that erect. Cherry’s going to come soon. I slip the plastic washing glove on one hand and hold the burlap in the other. I squeeze one breast with the gloved hand and stroke the burlap over the other. “Gyaaoh! Ohgod-ohgod-ohgod...”

Cherry grinds her crotch into Livia’s face aggressively. I remember how much fun it was when she did that to me — but I also remember how she kissed Livia, and her mouth is wide open... Livia has fingers in her at this point, and is flicking her clit with her thumb. Her tongue is teasing Cherry’s navel, which makes her giggle. I lean down and kiss Cherry, my lips locking around her wide-open mouth. I explore her mouth with my tongue, and she reciprocates. It’s very wet, and very intimate, and when we finish her lipstick is smeared and there’s a string of spit connecting my mouth to hers.

Livia and I share an absolutely evil gaze. Her mouth and chin are all wet, slick with Cherry’s moisture. Livia pulls a condom out of the dresser by the waterbed, tears the wrapping and puts it between her lips. She then does the same trick that Cathy tried to pull — but, unlike Cathy, Livia is quite proficient with it. I was already fairly hard, but when she finishes I am aggressively so.

As Livia handles my cock, I pull out the feather duster and tease Cherry with it, making her thrash and giggle. I pass the duster to Livia. We glance at each other. I move between Cherry’s legs, and position my cock just right. Livia tickles Cherry with one hand and rubs burlap on her cheek with the other. Cherry arches her back aggressively and screams, and slides back, and my cock slides between her pussy lips perfectly. And she gasps, and squirms, and moans. And I pump.

She’s going to come really soon, now. Livia spreads her legs and sits on Cherry’s face. Cherry licks her, a bit, but is too distracted by everything else to really give good oral. I slide in and out of her. She’s tight, and warm, and moist, and feels amazing around my cock the way a new girl always feels amazing when I first go in her. She’s going to come right away, though, and I’m not going to let myself come with her just yet. So I feel every muscle in her body tense and her vaginal walls pulse, and I see her thighs tremble, and she makes sounds that might be a scream if they weren’t muffled by Livia’s pussy. And this goes on for close to twenty seconds, as Livia mercilessly teases her nipples with the feather duster.

Finally, Cherry collapses. She pushes me away and I slide out of her, still hard. Her face is still buried in Livia’s snatch, and she’s actually working on the clit now, and Livia seems to be enjoying it. I get up and walk behind Livia. I squeeze her breasts as Cherry eats her, then flick her nipples rapidly with splayed fingers. She looks at me. She has a gleam in her eyes. It’s not long before she gets off — I’m pretty sure she pushes herself toward it, but it’s still a nice one. I rub my cock on her outer thigh gently as Cherry eats her. We both ogle Cherry’s body as she works shamelessly, sharing a secret glance between each other now and then as we marvel at how nice it is to simply examine the coed splayed out on the rug. I kiss Livia as she comes, deeply.

Cherry finally pulls herself out of Livia’s snatch and sits up, breathing deeply, catching her breath. “I think Livia enjoyed that,” I tell her.

“Damn straight,” Livia confirms. “Are we winding down now, or are you up for something a little harder?”

“That... there’s more? Can I take the blindfold off?”

I reach over and take it off her, marveling at how dirty she looks, with a few of Livia’s pubic hairs stuck to her face.

She glances from me to Livia and back to me. “What the fuck. That was just insanely intense — the best thing since... well, since the hypnotic orgasm. I know that was only four days ago, but... well, it’s my second best ever. But I’m going home in half an hour — so let’s give whatever else you have in mind a try!”

Livia takes a bottle of sex lube from the drawer and pours a more than generous dose into her palm.

“I don’t want to embarrass you, Cherry,” Livia says, “but may I ask you a very intimate question?”

“Well,” Cherry says, “I know what you taste like, so I’d say intimacy is already pretty well established.”

Livia looks directly at Cherry, keeping eye contact. As she asks, she reaches back with the lubed hand and grips my cock, back and forth, coating the condom with lube. Her posture gives me the vague impression of her as a gunslinger, with my cock as a gun and Cherry as the target. “Have you ever had a man in your bum?”

Cherry gets slightly nervous. Not afraid or deeply grossed out, but a wee bit uncertain. I get the feeling that excites Livia. “I’ve never actually tried out that specific thing.”

Livia lets go of my cock, leans forward on all fours and begins to crawl toward Cherry. She can actually be very dominant and intense in that posture, as I know from experience — and the effect is magnified when the focus of her attention is lying prone, back down, on a rug. She vaguely reminds me of a stalking leopard.

Livia begins a monologue about anal sex that I’m fairly sure is a paraphrase of some obscure seventies porno. I imagine it being delivered by an older male school superintendent to a shy, submissive, coded-as-underage student. I could be wrong about that — it could be a word-for-word quote (customized only for the sensation-play prior context), with Livia wondering if either of us will catch her obscure reference and throw a quote back. That would be entirely in character for her.

“I’m not saying you have to try it, baby, but it does convey this amazing sense of... of fullness — and when you learn it, you’ll feel so sophisticated, so experienced and womanly. Did you know that the anus has more than twelve times as many nerve endings as the vagina? Given how much you seem to like unusual sensations, I think you might really enjoy it. Of course, I need to warn you, it can be so intense as to be nearly addictive...”

As she speaks, Livia reaches out to stroke Cherry’s short hair with one hand. Livia can be deliciously predatory at times — but she knows it and she owns it, usually saving it for people that will appreciate it (or at least not be genuinely creeped out by it). I remind you, O Patient Reader, that I just had sex with Livia for the first time six days ago. I’ve never had her ass — and, in fact, there’s a ton of things I’ve never done with her that I want to. Anal is usually a take-it-or-leave-it thing for me, but in a few situations it can be very sexy to me — it’s contextual.

I ask you, O Mischievous Reader, is there any more perfect moment to unexpectedly shove a well-greased cock up a woman’s ass than when said woman is delivering a cheesy monologue about the joys of anal sex to a new playmate ten years her junior, complete with creepy hair-stroking? I honestly have no idea if Livia will appreciate the sensation — but I am dead-on certain that she will love the simple irony of it. I slide into Livia’s ass smoothly and easily in one unexpected thrust, loving the tightness of her anus and the feel of her centerfold ass-cheeks pressing into my hips as my hands guide her own hips.

I can’t see Livia’s face when I do this, but I can see Cherry’s reaction to Livia’s “Wendy expression”. Her initial look of intimidated but faintly intrigued switches quickly to surprised and perplexed — and then she “gets it”, and snorts, trying to stay composed, and then she fails and bursts out laughing.

“Go on,” I instruct Livia. “Tell Cherry how good it feels.”

Livia’s what I think of as a Triple A girl — her face can by annoyed, amused and aroused at the same time. I can’t see it, but I know it’s a nice look on her, and I suspect Cherry thinks so too.

“Well played,” she finally admits, as I slide back and forth in her rear. She’s tight there; I don’t get that she actually gets anal a lot.

“It honestly does feel nice, though,” Livia says, “as long as you do it gradually and the guy isn’t super-thick. We should do this more often.”

“Do you actually want my ass?” Cherry asks. She’s up for it, I think, but honestly not enthusiastic.

“What I’d really like,” I tell her, “is another taste between your legs, this time without any hypnosis stopping me actually getting you off. Why don’t you go slip back into that nylon nurse getup, for the feel of the fabric, and then come over here and spread your legs for me?”

Cherry does so. She looks really good as a nurse without underwear and with extra-hard nipples. The “Nurse Cherry” nametag is still on the costume. I’m not sure why that adds so much for me, but it inarguably does. As she squeezes into the costume, I pump Livia’s ass, going slowly and gently. I position her face-down on the zebra-skin rug. That’s usually a bit of a rude position to put a partner in, but Livia’s a bit submissive and I don’t think she’ll mind. She does seem to be enjoying the anal, too, on the simple level of sensation as well as for the irony and timing.

Cherry grabs the corner of the zebra rug and pulls it toward the bed, with us on it. There’s a bit of jostling, but Livia seems to enjoy it. Then Cherry grabs an overhanging part of the bedframe and spreads her legs in my face. And I need to say, she looks great in the costume with legs wide-spread, and her pussy is wet and ready and just as intoxicating to me as it was when I first ate it. Putting it in an actual skirt just makes it all the more naughty and enticing to lick it. And as much visual pleasure as I derive from that cheap costume, I think Cherry gets an equal portion of tactile pleasure, given how she pulls and tugs at it with her right hand while using her left to hold herself up.

Cherry’s pussy is familiar and welcoming to me. I start gentle, tracing my tongue along the valley between the labia majoris and minoris again. She’s wet, and tastes faintly metallic and salty. Our language doesn’t really have words to describe the way individual women taste, but they’re all distinct, and even without the weird thrill of adding literal cherry pie to the mix she’s still both tasty and responsive. This isn’t going to last too long, I realize — she’s really aroused and hypersensitive, and we’ve probably worn her out at this point. I enjoy parting her lips with my tongue, feeling her stubble on my face again, burying my face in her warmth as my cock slides in and out of Livia’s tight ass. “Go deeper,” Livia tells me.

I do so. I’m going to come soon, and so is Cherry — no reason to hold it off. This weird anal-oral position is pretty rad, but there’s no way we can keep it up too long. So I move up and focus on Cherry’s clit, giving it a vigorous tongue-lashing. Cherry’s legs fly out from under her, and suddenly a portion of her weight is resting on my shoulders. “Mmph! Augh! Oh, oh, yeah!”

Cherry clamps her legs around my neck tightly. I brace both my hands on the rug and grip it firmly, making sure that I’m not losing my balance. I thrust deeper into Livia’s ass, then pull forward to the point where the tip is near her sphincter, then push back in. It’s like I’m doing pushups. This gets a load moan out of her, and I push it in as far as it goes and just hold it there. I have an odd moment where I realize I can hear Cherry’s thighs trembling.

This surreal bit of erotic synesthesia isn’t as nonsensical as it sounds — she has her thighs clamped right over my ears and neck, after all, really tightly, and her heart is hammering, and there are veins and arteries in her thighs — so it’s actually possible. Real or imagined, though, it’s enough of a novelty for me to start pumping the condom in Livia’s ass full of my sperm. I feel her sphincter tighten, too, and we all just freeze for several seconds, enjoying our respective orgasms.

Did we just end a threesome with triple simultaneous orgasms? I’d like to say yes — it’s definitely a nice sexual boast for the check list — but I’m not a hundred percent sure. I know for a fact Cherry and I came at the same time, as it was her thighs that set me off. I think Livia may have, too, but I’m not sure.

In either case, we separate very quickly. I think Cherry would have liked to stay this way just a bit longer, but it’s too strenuous on both her body and mine. Her hand slips a bit, and the bedframe starts to creak, and she quickly gets her legs back under her. I withdraw my cock from Livia’s ass, the tip making a slight pop as it clears her sphincter on the way out. “You look so hot,” Cherry tells me, “when you flex your muscles like that.”

I guess I was kind of flexing, when I was pumping into Livia with Cherry on my shoulders and gripping the rug. “If we ever get the opportunity to hook up again,” I tell her, “you can watch me do my exercise routine, and I can watch you dance, and then we can share a shower.”

“That sounds fun.”

“Are you good, Livia, or do you want us to finish you off?”

“I’m great,” Livia mumbles. “Just... just dreamy.”

She does sound a bit dazed. Then Cherry tries to walk and her legs give on on her, and she ends up on top of me and Livia. It’s a hard fall, not a sexy-naughty-touching kind of fall. “Oof,” Livia says, stunned.

And then I feel the numbness and realize I’ve fucked up. I can see the slight red stain spreading on the bandages around my leg. I think it was the crazy acrobatic sex, not Cherry falling on me, but I’m not certain. It could have been either, or both. I don’t say anything right away, though — I figure I’ll man it out, and we can drive Cherry to the airport, and then me back to the hospital to get the stitches fixed. “Livia, can you help Cherry up? We’ve got about fifteen minutes.”

The three of us get in the shower. I try not to get my leg under the water. There’s no more ogling at this point; we’re all spent. I’m thinking about my leg, and about seeing Cherry in the future. My situational awareness isn’t at an all-time high, so I don’t see Livia dip her hand into the lube jar. As I’m washing and trying to keep my leg out of the water (and, honestly, maybe just watching Cherry’s soapy breasts jiggle a little bit, because no matter how worn out I am that will never stop being nice to watch).

And Livia slides a finger into my ass, and I yelp. I’m not angry — it’s fair play, I guess, after I put my cock in her — but it does surprise me. Cherry sees my expression, and giggles. I have to laugh as well. It’s not my first anal play — a prostitute I grew close with when I was twenty loved putting her finger there in a condom when she blew me, and it added to the experience (though I’m not sure if it’s because she enjoyed it or I like ass play). So I’m not horrified, just surprised.

“You two must have a lot of experience with each other,” Cherry marvels.

“To be honest,” I tell her, “I just had my first time with Livia on Monday.”

Cherry stares at me, then back at Livia, then back to me, a growing look of puzzlement and vague disquiet on her face.

I share a knowing glance with Livia calmly for a few seconds. Then neither of us can contain it any longer, and we both burst out laughing. Cherry eventually laughs with us. She leaves that night believing Livia and I are long-time lovers. The true story is too weird and too contextual for either of us to want to derail a threesome with. (We will explain the truth, much later, but not over that Spring Break.)

My leg is hurting now. This is not good. I wash up quickly and get out of the shower, toweling off. There is one important thing I want to tell Cherry before she goes, though. I gather up the burlap, the duster, the nylon costume and the silk camisole, and stuff them in the snakeskin purse (which I grabbed for the texture, but never got to use). I hand them to Cherry. “Burlap, nylon, snakeskin, feathers, silk. I’ll grab you a Wartenberg pinwheel as well before you go. You know you like this stuff, now. Play with it. Show your lovers back home how to use it on you. Don’t be shy about it. Figure out your kinks, and tell guys — or girls — what you want. You won’t regret it.”

She grins. “I won’t. I’m... uh... going to need to find a lover before I do that, though.”

“You won’t have any problems with that, I promise you. And we’ll be on the road, but you’re welcome to call any time. I’d like to hear from you again.”

I tell the girls I need to go to my room. Livia and Cherry are whispering to each other when I leave. Part of my wishes we turned half of the marathon fuck session into time to socialize — but that’s what phones are for, right? I go to my room and change bandages for the second time today. Yup, popped stitches; not good. But I don’t say anything. I don’t want anything to make Cherry feel bad. Her wide, joyful smile is different from Mimi’s bubbly girlish one, but they both uplift me in different ways.

The three of us take Scarlet and drive Cherry to her hotel. We do make it on time. Livia drives, and Mimi and Cherry make small talk. Cherry jokes that Mia — that’s her winglady from the bar — already knows why she was sore for three days in a row, and now she’s going to be sore for another three.

“Once you get past shame,” I tell her sagely, “you’re going to learn to start taking pride in these things. Tonight has to be a pretty nice notch in your sexual bedpost.”

It’s not a long trip. Cherry meets Mia, and she kisses each of us before she leaves. I watch her go. I wish we had another day with her, just to hang out.

“Ladies,” I say. “I’m so sorry about this, but you’re going to have to drive me back to the Holy Cross. I’ve popped some stitches.”

“Marc!” Mimi is aghast. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?!”

“I didn’t want to put a cloud over Cherry’s departure,” I reply, as stoically as I can manage.

So they drive me back to the hospital, and I get in the wheelchair as my bandages are now red, and they wheel me back in there. I spend the night. A doctor fixes my stitches. I get the same nurse again. It’s awkward, this time, not flattering — I feel oddly guilty, having just done a bunch of sexual nurse fantasy play inspired by the real thing, and then meeting her again. I don’t doubt she knows exactly how I popped the stitches, and I don’t doubt she feels a bit jilted by me blowing her off, doing that and then coming back. But she’s very polite and professional.

I sleep the night away, and wake up at ten. I can check out at noon. I get stricter instructions this time, about what to do and not do, with my leg. I look out the window. The sun is up. It’s Monday morning. Spring Break is officially over. As Spring Breaks go, I imagine mine was pretty choice — but it’s time to man up and start dealing with the consequences.

Wait, I hear you asking me, O Ambivalent Reader. Didn’t you, in your very first chapter, promise us a madcap story of outrageous sexual hijinks without serious consequences, and with happy endings all around? Well... kinda. And you’ll get that, if you hang on to the end — but the truth is, the road between here and there was not always a smooth one. Having fun, and getting other people to have as much fun as you do, and entertaining a whole audience — it’s not always easy, and it can go wrong. This is the beginning of one of the darker patches, and (much like my leg right now) it’s going to hurt more than I initially let on.