Chasing Tales

My dear sainted mother told me upon learning of my intended profession, ‘Son, yer a feckin’ eejit.  An actor, are ye?’ and she spat on the ground at this, ‘Well, I’ll ne’er see ye again.’  And I should have listened to her.  Men should always listen to their ma.  You never do, but you should.  And I never did see her again.
I left my tiny little town of Kilfenora and went to London.  London, even then recovering from the ‘Glorious Revolution’, was still a magical place.  Séamus an Chaca had all but been banished from the hearts of the people and I found some small amount of work with Betterton's Company, where among other things, I learned to disguise my yokelish voice.  Least, that’s what Miss Barry called it.  I had my lilt and that was enough to distinguish me from the others.  I played in Mr. Tate’s Lear and in Mr. Congreve’s Mourning Bride, but success was always just ‘round the corner and never quite in sight.  And after a few years, with a few pounds tucked away, I returned home.
There was a phrase I heard in London, ‘You can never go home again.’ It was truer than I thought, for my poor ma had died while I was away.  The house was still there, but I couldn’t bear to stay there.  I sold it and took that and the money I made in London and went off into the countryside.
I traveled from village to village as a storyteller.  Folks would gather in the town square, or in the pub, and I would tell them on old wives tale or the story of one of the plays I was in, edited for rural enjoyment.  The folktales were the favourite, one last gift from my ma.  It was a nice enough way to pass the tome and occasionally, in addition to the few meager coins they would toss down someone would offer me a mean or a bed to sleep in.  Every once and awhile there was an offer for company in that bed, which I usually took them up on.  Except for that one misunderstanding with Mr. McCabe in Fermanagh.  What can I say, I’ve got bewitching eyes.  Although, really, the town name should’ve been a clue.
One night, while on my way to Moycullen, a thick, eerie fog came in and hid the road from view.  I got turned around several times in the dense mist.  I stumbled over something (a tree branch?) and felt a warm blossom of pain as I cracked my pate upon the earth.
I awoke to find myself in the front room of a stone cottage.  I had been placed in a surprisingly comfortable rocking chair and a faded green blanket was tucked over my chest and legs.
‘Oh,’ I heard a voice off to my right call, ‘You’re awake.’
I turned my head and in came the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.  Now, as I have said, I’ve seen London’s exotic beauties and had dalliances with more than a few buxom lasses, but this fair creature outstripped them all.  Her lush brown hair hung loosely past her shoulders and her eyes shown like heliotrope.  She was of medium height, the top of her head coming up to my chin and I wanted nothing more than to take her in my arms and then take her elsewhere besides.
‘My name is Gillian,’ she said in a silky voice.  ‘I heard a shout from outside and found you on the ground.’
I started to get up, but she pushed me back down.  I guess I was weaker than I thought.  ‘No, no.  You need your rest.  You took a nasty spill.’
‘Is there anyone else here?  If I was knocked out...’
‘I’m stronger than I look,’ she said flashing me a glorious smile.
‘Indeed.’
‘What’s your name?’ Gillian asked sweetly.
‘I’m Christopher Watson, Kit to those that know me,’ I said.
‘Then I shall call you Kit,’ she said definitively.  I took no umbrage.
She laid a cool hand upon mine and I am ashamed to say I recoiled at her touch.  ‘What’s wrong?’
‘You’re cold,’ I spoke as a child would.
‘These walls do not keep the elements at bay as once they did.  Shall I make us some chocolate?’  She got up before I could reply.
‘I’ve not had chocolate since I left London.  I didn’t think it popular over here.’
‘How unfortunate.  Is there a finer thing in this world to put in your mouth, so rich and warm and lovely?’
I spluttered slightly at this.  Could she not see what effect her words had on me?  Such words out of her perfectly formed mouth…She returned a moment later with two steaming mugs.  She handed me one and kept the other for herself.  ‘It keeps the cold away.  Not as well as other things, but well enough.’
We drank the chocolate in silence.  All the while, I couldn’t tear my eyes away form her.  I could feel myself staring, but I did not care.  For her part, she seemed equally captivated, looking at me with a sort of hunger in her eyes.
‘What brought you out this way?’ she asked, breaking my rapture.
I thought for a moment to tell her some lie, to make myself better than I was, before I realized there was little point.  ‘I am a storyteller.’
I needn’t have worried.  No soon were the words out of my mouth than did her eyes grow wide and I was treated again with one of her smiles.  ‘Tell me a story,’ she clapped her hands excitedly.  ‘Tell me a story while I fetch us more chocolate.’
Well, when a woman smiles and asks you to do something, you usually do it.  When it’s the most beauteous woman in the world, you’d be a demmed fool not to.  I briefly recounted for her The Country Wife, which, while I never performed it myself, saw it done several years previously.  I mostly kept to Horner’s parts as it rarely fails to captivate the fairer sex.  During the telling, I felt my old strength returning.  At one point, I leapt out of my chair and began acting it out as I was wont to do.  When I had finished, out of breath but pleased with my performance, she stood up and kissed me hard upon the lips.
She took my hand and, pausing only to grab her chocolate, led me into the bedroom.  For a ramshackle cottage, it had a nice, large bed.  She pushed me onto it with a simple motion and took a swig from her mug.  She straddled me, then, clawing at my loose shirt which came apart more easily than its cost would imply.  My hands were pinioned to the bed post by its remains.
Slowly, with a tenderness that belied the ruination of my shirt, she undid my belt and breeches.  Soon I was as bear as when I entered the world.  Again, she ran her cold hands over me and I shivered once more.  ‘Oh, we cannot have that,’ she said and reached again for her mug.  She had a sip and then took me in her mouth.  The warmth of it and the chocolate made me strain against my bonds in ecstasy.
This was a momentary pleasure, however as she left the bed.  She returned again with a candle, holding it over my chest.  ‘Still cold?’ she asked.  The candle’s flame flickered and I thought I saw a strange look rest upon her face.  But I blinked and all I could see was the lust that was there before.
‘Not as once I was,’ I said.
‘Still…’ she tilted her hand and some of the candle wax fell on my chest.  It was agony, yet strangely compelling.  She did it again, directly on my nipple and even as I gritted my teeth against the pain I knew there was nothing I would not do for her.  She nibbled my ear.
After she had contented herself with her lazily drawn wax designs on my chest, she untied me.  My hands were all over her at once, stroking her hair, loosening her bodice, reaching under her skirts.
She moaned, gloriously, as I undid her bodice.  I put my head under her shirt and teased her ample breasts with my tongue.  There is only one place I’d rather be than with my head between a pair of gorgeous breasts and the night was still young.  Idly, I flicked my tongue across her engorged nipple and was rewarded by her grinding against my lap.  Her nails scratched patterns into my back and my hands cupped her cool, smooth skin.  I began to trail my kisses southerly.  It wasn’t long before I was fighting with the labyrinth of undergarments women wear.
When, at last, I reached the pearl of this treasure chest, I drank deeply of its contents.  I breathed in her musk, letting it overwhelm my senses.  I lapped greedily at her, her strong legs keeping my firmly locked in place.  I felt her legs closing tighter on my head like a vice, and then suddenly releasing.  This was what the French called la petite mort, but I had not yet finished.
I came up for air, tasting her on my lips.  Scarcely pausing, I entered her.  Our lions moved in a pattern born to prehistory.  I slipped my arm under her and pressed her closer to me.  With my free hand I took hold of her hair and pulled, causing her to buck upwards wildly.
She reached out and found my belt, abandoned as it was on the bed.  In a surprisingly agile motion she brought it down upon my back.  I cried out in pain and pleasure and she lashed me again and again.  I didn’t know what I was feeling; an ecstatic frenzy was building inside me.  I was awash with sensual gratification.  When I thought I could feel no more, my neck…there was something about my neck…dear **d!  She was biting my neck!
I spent myself inside her.  I tried to roll off, to get her to release her grip on me.  But I found myself too weak to move.  We had swapped positions; I lay on my back feeling my essence seep out and my blood draining…When she had finished, shed looked down at me, licked my blood from her lips, and laughed.  ‘Warm, at last.’
I attempted to cover my neck with me hand, but didn’t have the strength.  ‘Wh-what are you?’ I asked feebly.
‘You tell stories,’ she got up and threw a dressing gown over her creamy white shoulders, sweeping her hair back in a small arc as she did so.  ‘Have you never heard of the Dearg-Du?’
I cast my mind back across all the stories I knew.  ‘Yes.  Yes, but you’re supposed to help inspire poets and writers to better works, not drain them dry the first time.’
‘My dear boy, you tell stories.  You don’t write them,’ I heard her say as the room faded to black.

Originally written 11/28/08

Victoria, Rachel and Me

Okay. A disclaimer. This is early. Very, very, early. It's rather...earnest, shall we say? Straightforward. But everything is going on here. So, here you go.

Victoria had been joking that she was ‘bi-curious’ for a few months now.  She mostly said it to get a rise out of me.  Oh ho.  One night, we were watching a particularly filthy flick in which two women were going down on some guy.  I was nuzzling her neck, not really paying much attention to the movie but tuning in to her clit instead.  “I want to try that,” she panted.

“What?” I mumbled through her neck.

“That.”

“What that?”

“On screen.”

I stopped what I was doing and watched the movie for a moment.  The guy was fucking one of the girls while she ate the other out.  I paused for a minute, possibilities racing through my mind.  “Yeah?”

“Yeah, it looks like fun.”

I propped my head up with one hand, while my other hand worked its way down to my cock.  “Have any one in mind?”

She looked down at my stroking and said, “Well, it would have to be someone we know.  I couldn’t share you with a stranger.”

“Of course not.”

She settled back and began to play with her nipples.  “And it would be someone we could trust.  How about Rachel?”

Rachel was her best friend from college.  Vicki had shared a room with her for six months before she moved in with me.  And what’s more, Vicki knew I had secretly fancied her for a while.

Well, that was enough.  I mounted her right there and within a few strokes, we were both screaming as waves of pleasure swept us up.  I collapsed on her chest and she wrapped her fingers in my hair.  “So,” I wheezed.  “How is this going to work?”

“First I have to call her,” and she reached out to the night side stand and grabbed the phone.  As she dialed Rachel’s number, my heart skipped a beat.  “Rachel? Hi, it’s Vic.  I was wondering if you wanted to come over tomorrow.  Yeah, come on.  It’ll be fun.  We’ll have a couple of drinks and catch up.  Great, we’ll see you tomorrow.  Round eight, yeah.

“All set,” she said, putting the phone down.

My cock began to harden again and she grabbed hold of it.  “Just one thing.”

“Anything,” I said.

“You’re not allowed to fuck her,” she squeezed my cock.  “Not this time.  For right now, you’re all mine.  She can suck you, but your dick goes anywhere near her cunt…”

  I nodded.

“Good,” she released me and stood up.  “Now I have to decide what to wear for tomorrow.  It isn’t everyday you get to seduce your best friend.”

Rachel arrived at eight sharp, bring with her a large bottle of Château de Chasselet.  Was she cuter than I remembered, or was it simply that in a short while, she would be in our bed?  I shared a wicked look with Victoria.

“Rachel,” said Vicky, smoothly.  “What have you been up to?”

“Not much,” she replied, sitting down on the sofa.  She flicked her shoulder length hair out of her face.  It was a sort of scarlety color that complemented her emerald eyes beautifully.  “Work’s been killer.  I’m glad you called, actually.  I can finally have an evening where I can relax.”

“Relax, yes,” I laughed nervously.  Victoria glared at me and mouthed, “Don’t blow it.”

Dinner progressed without a hitch.  Both Vicky and Rachel drank a vast amount of wine, while I contained myself to a small glass.  If I was to be in a position to do anything remotely interesting, I needed to stay mostly sober.

We retired to the living room to watch a movie.  After much deliberation, it was decided that we would watch Bound, as Rachel liked Jennifer Tilly but had never seen it.  We sat on the floor, watching the movie while the girls drank.  I could tell that Rachel was getting turned on, her eyes were slightly smoky and she unfastened buttons on her top several times.

I caught Vicky’s eye and she motioned for me to make myself scarce for a moment.  I excused myself and went around the corner to the kitchen, where I could still sneak a peek as to what was going on.

I watched Vic run her hand up Rachel’s leg, she shuddered under the touch.  ‘I have a confession,” she said.

“Yeah, what’s that?” Rachel asked, her voice cracking slightly.

“I want you so badly,” said Victoria.

“But what about Shaun?”

My girlfriend pressed a finger to Rachel’s lips.  Her other hand worked up under Rachel’s skirt.  I couldn’t tell what they were doing, but Rachel started whimpering.  Vic removed her hand and kissed her friend passionately.  “Come on back, honey,” she called to me.

I entered the room, erection visible through my pants.  Rachel looked at Vic, then to me, stunned.  “What’s going on?”

“Simple,” I said.  “We’re inviting you in to our bed.”

“What? The both of you?  At the same time?”

Vicky massaged Rachel’s breast, “We’re not going to make you do anything you don’t want to.  But it looked like you were interested in relieving a little tension tonight.”

Rachel smiled.  “Okay, I’m in.”

Victoria stood up and we both took Rachel’s hands and led her into our bedroom for the first time.

To say that the three of us were nervous would not be out of the question.  None of us had done anything like this before and therefore did not quite know how to begin.  I sat down of the bed and patted next to me for someone else.  Rachel did so.  I took her face in my hands and said, “You’re very beautiful, you know that?  We wouldn’t be doing this otherwise.”

She smiled and blushed.  I kissed her lightly on the forehead and felt Vicky sit down next to us.  She started kissing Rachel’s arm.  I reached over and discreetly fondled my girlfriend’s breast.  Vic, it seemed, was in no mood to wait and took off her shirt to expose her bare breasts.  She put Rachel’s hand on the breast that was being ignored and started moving her kisses upward, lingering at Rachel’s neck.  I put my other hand under Rachel’s skirt and teased her pussy through her underwear.

Rachel leaned in towards me, breaking off Vicky’s necking.  She pulled off my shirt in a deft maneuver and flung it across the room.  Vicky, in turn, unbuckled me and ripped my pants and shorts off.  I was now naked, which I didn’t think terribly fair until Rachel grabbed my cock and commenced jerking.  Unsatisfied with my nudity, Vic removed Rachel’s skirt and panties.  I pulled her rear over to me, undoing the clasp on her sarong and finding no other garments to impede my progress, began to eat her out.  Vicky cried out in pleasure and tore open Rachel’s top, popping several buttons.  She buried her head between the now exposed breasts and thrust her hand between Rachel’s lower lips.

We were a tangle of limbs.  Rachel lost her grip on my cock, so I decided to impose some order on things.  I pulled away from the girls and lay back on the bed.  I was content to watch them grapple with each other for a moment, but soon felt the urge overtake me.  “Hey, what about me?” I said playfully.

They both turned to look at me.  “Oh, are you feeling left out?” Victoria said.  She moved to my right side, while Rachel moved to my left.  “I guess we’ll just have to take care of that.”

Vic lowered herself and sucked on the head of my cock and Rachel stroked the shaft.  The effect of both of them working on my dick was amazing.  I’d never felt anything like.  My hands shot out and found their cunts.  I kneaded and massaged their dripping holes as they swapped positions on my cock.  I flicked them off, my fingers never letting up.  They both gushed at the same time, covering my hands with their sweet secretions.  I savoured their cum, the mixture was the best thing I had ever tastes.  Meanwhile, the girls were doing their damnedest to make me cum as well.  I could feel my dick swelling for the final load under Rachel’s attention.

“Hang on,” I sighed.  The girls stopped what they were doing.  “There’s one more thing I want to try.”

They looked confused, but were willing to give anything a try at this point.  I positioned them in a 69, with Vicky on top.  As they tongued each other’s twats, I slipped myself into Vic’s ass.  She moaned into Rachel’s slit while I reamed her asshole.  My balls slapped Rachel’s forehead.  She reached up and pulled my ass into my girlfriend’s, who started screaming with pleasure.

I couldn’t take it any longer.  I came up Vic’s ass, then quickly pulled out and shot another string of cum on Rachel’s face.  I fell back on my butt and watched the girls play with each other until they were both spent.  Rachel wiped the cum from her face and apparently unsatisfied with the meager offering, moved over to suck my cock dry.  The three of us lay in our sweat and other juices.  I cuddled up to Vic, as did Rachel.

“That,” said Rachel, “was nice.”

“Was it everything you hoped for?” I asked my girlfriend.

“Hey, I’m laying here sweaty and naked with my best friend and my boyfriend.  What could be better?”

None of us could argue.  We fell asleep, dreaming of each other and the evening we had.

                                                                                                                                                  Originally posted Friday, March 04, 2005