Bringing the Arts Together: Memory Clips

Summer, 1976. I was going out with a singer and a dancer, both
very talented. I decided to see what sort of performance we could
put on together. If you're looking for romance, look elsewhere.
___________

I'm 61 and facing the fact that my most erotic experiences are
behind me. My wife and I have an excellent sex life, and I
willingly traded the love I gained for the excitement I lost--and
would do so again. There are times, however, when I can't help
recalling those "My-God-Can-Anything-be-Better-than-This?"
experiences, when I was so excited that it was as if I had too
much air in my lungs, too much blood in my veins, when it felt as
if my whole body was erect, as if I were going to explode rather
than climax. But thankfully senility has not yet arrived and
those times are still with me. I have an excellent memory and
memories, one of which I'll share with you.

It was 1976, predating, at least for heterosexuals, the AIDS
crisis. I was thirty, between marriages, and teaching classes,
for the second Summer in a row, at a regional campus of a state
university. It was just rural enough that few college teachers
were begging to spend  the Summer there, which provided me with
an opportunity. At the main campus of this university, I was used
to teaching callow 18 year olds and so was surprised at the
regional campus when I found a great many older people coming
back to finish their college education. Older here is relative;
most of my students were between twenty and forty. As I scoped
out the students before me, I felt myself being scoped out as
well. That had happened occasionally with the teenagers at the
main campus but I had never acted on it. I'm sure the bodies
would have been great but I was also sure that the conversation
would be abysmal--and there were the ethical issues. So it was a
great surprise that Summer when I found myself in relationships
with two women, each in her twenties, one a former and the other
a current student.


Susan, 24

The first Summer I taught at the regional campus, Susan was one
of my students. She did very well in the class, effectively
contributing and earning one of the few "A's" I gave that
quarter. She was tiny--5 feet tall at best--but very sexy, with a
kind of compact curviness that grabbed attention. I had never
approached her but we were aware of each other in a semi-hormonal
way. The second year I taught there, she was not in my classes,
but I saw her on campus, we started talking and she said that she
was sorry we had not gotten together the previous Summer. I said
that was easily rectified and asked her to dinner. We had a
wonderful time, had several drinks and, when I found she
preferred marijuana to alcohol, I invited her back to my
apartment, where a pipe was always loaded. We smoked and suddenly
we were ripping each other's clothes off with our eyes.

We lay down on my bed but when I went to unzip her skirt, she
gave me a strange look. I asked what the matter was and she said
she was Catholic and could not risk getting pregnant. I smiled
and said, "You don't understan...."

And she said, "None of those methods work absolutely."

"Agreed," I said, "but a vasectomy works."

She was unfamiliar with the operation but when I explained it to
her, she still wasn't entirely sold. I suggested that, if she
wanted, she could look for my surgery scar, an activity that I
thought would provide--for me at least--a great deal of pleasure.
Susan's face showed a combination of concern, gratitude and lust.
Then she laughed and within three seconds was showing me the
tightest, most petite female body I had ever beheld. Her breasts
were small but on her frame they were perfect. She was shaved--a
rarity in the seventies--at least in my experience. I told her she
looked like the sexiest twelve-year-old in the universe. She
stood, twirled and stopped, showing me a perfectly rounded ass
and then bent down and looked up at me from between her legs, her
head close to touching the floor. From behind she was almost
boyish but there were curves on her that had never been seen on
any boy. I have no idea what her measurements were--I have always
thought that proportions are much more important than inches. And
Susan's proportions would grab the eyes of any living
heterosexual male and women on both sides of the fence.

It was like most initial sex--there was feeling out, seeing what
the other person liked. I was surprised at one point as I went
down on her. I had gently spread her genital folds with my
fingers and was moving my tongue up her slit, searching for her
clitoris. I then seemed to find two of them, sitting side by
side, each the size of a marble. I lightly moved my tongue over
these two slick bumps several times to minor reaction. Then, with
heaven-sent insight, I licked hard over what I was now thinking
of as her tiny balls, and suddenly her breathing increased
dramatically and she was moaning. After having carefully taught
myself to lick a clitoris lightly and slowly, here was someone
who demanded that hers be licked hard and fast. She pushed my
head up several times with her thrusting hips. I continued with
my mouth until she had come several times. She rolled over and
said, "Anything, anything."

"I'd like to feel your mouth on me," I said, and it was. Even it
was small, tight, and well-controlled. I'm sure there most be
some sensation more fulfilling than the first time you enter a
lover, but if so, it escapes me at the moment. I found myself
thrusting deeply into her warmth and, after a while, came
powerfully.

Over the next several weeks I learned a number of things about
Susan. First, that she was constitutionally averse to any form of
underwear, a fact I learned to love over that Summer--in
restaurants, in the library, once even in the grocery store,
where she flashed me in the produce aisle, suggestively holding a
zucchini. More critically, I found out where her strength and
flexibility had come from. Her tightly curved body had profited
mightily from twenty years of dancing, competitive gymnastics,
and dance instruction. I don't know how many of you have gone out
with a dancer, but her grace and flexibility, as well as her
sensitivity, offered some wonderful surprises, many of which we
explored again and again.

On one amazing night she lay down on my living room floor and
then brought her legs over her head and then somehow raised her
head so that her tongue was suddenly within four inches of her
vagina. She said that up to the age of 18 she had been able to
bring herself with her tongue and shared several unforgettable
Polaroids taken by an envious friend in high school. In them,
Susan was working on herself, her ass high, her tongue
glistening, her eyes glazed. Certainly not a skill mucy valued at
her Catholic school, where a priest taught what he called sex
education.

On another night she performed a similar move, bringing both legs
straight up and holding them beside her head, the top of her feet
touching the floor. I had never seen a woman more open. I was
able to lick almost every part of her, which I did many times.
When I entered her with my cock, she took a big breath and shut
her eyes. This was the position where she had the most multiple
orgasms; I later figured out that in that position, my cock was
directly rubbing her G-spot (although in the seventies we knew
very little about G-spots).

Aside from flexibility, Susan's body was as sensitive as any body
I have ever known. I vividly recall a good forty-five minute
breast massage I gave her one night. I put massage oil over her
chest and then sat close beside her on the edge of the bed. I
would bring my hands down together--as if in prayer--and then touch
the bottoms of my hands between her breasts and then move my
hands outward over her breasts. Every time I did this, my fingers
would open and I would get to watch--and feel--her nipples popping
up after each of my four oiled fingers moved over them. Her
nipples grew harder and then, after flushing deeply, Susan came
in about ten minutes. I kept on massaging, however, finding that
she climaxed even more quickly after that. I stopped counting at
four.

I was also rewarded when I gave her footrubs. Susan would be on
my bed, lying on her stomach, nude, legs partially spread, and I
would lift each of her feet and rub every inch with oil. Then I
would start at her heel and rub from her heel to her toes, moving
my hands more tightly together as I did so. Susan said it felt as
if I were squeezing out all the bad and replacing it with cool
goodness. I loved doing this because as I looked between her
legs, I could see her start to glisten. When she started slowly
thrusting gently downward against the bed, I knew I was having an
effect. And then, she would ask me not to stop, and shortly after
that, with a ragged breath and a shudder, she would come. A
nervous system to treasure, her body was a true sex machine.

And there were times when it all came together.  We were once
having sex, with me on top, when Susan simply pushed me over (she
was very strong) and got on top. She was traditional for a few
seconds, impaling herself on my cock, but suddenly she rose up
from me, squatting on her feet with her legs spread, knees bent
at right angles--some sort of ballet position. Her breasts
bounced firmly--and deliciously--with my thrusting underneath her.
At that point she looked down and we were both able to see my
penis moving in and out. Some others might be able to do that for
a short while, but she held that position for a good ten minutes
as we experimented with angles, speed and depth. Both of us were
rewarded multiple times. It was a position we used often.

MariJo, 23

The same Summer Susan and I got together, MariJo (or MJ) was a
student in my class. I first became aware of her two weeks into
the Summer, sitting three rows from the front, a long lean woman
wearing a tight t-shirt that said, "My Daddy went to New Orleans
and all he bought me was this lousy shirt." It was hard to read,
though, because she was not wearing a bra and her breasts and
nipples stood out, rippling one message but sending an even
better one. She later told me she had worn that shirt
particularly because she wanted to see if she could turn me on.
Once when I looked over at her, I saw her rolling her right
nipple. I normally stood while I taught, but several times in
that class I had to sit down because my lap was tenting. Once
sitting, I looked up to see MJ smiling conspiratorially. When
class was over, she stayed behind. I shut the classroom door, and
said, "I received whatever message you were sending. Tell me you
were not just seeing if I was gay."

She said, "No, I can see that you aren't," and she grasped my
erection through my slacks.

I suggested somewhere more private, and we quickly ended up back
at my apartment. She said she had been listening to me all term
and wondered what I would be like in bed. Because she had been a
professional singer since middle school, she had dealt with all
kinds of club owners, promoters, and assorted showpeople. MJ
didn't do coy.

When we got back to my apartment, she stripped almost before I
closed the door, and I turned to see a tall vision. To have seen
MJ nude was to receive proof positive of the existence of a
benevolent God. She was six foot one inch and a former all-state
in volleyball--which accounted for her physical condition. Her
body was like that of a showgirl, with a perfect ass for a thong
(although such things only existed in Las Vegas at the time). She
twirled, displaying herself, her naturally shoulder-length curly
black hair, and creamy white skin (she got sun poisoning and
covered herself completely in warmer months, which meant no tan
lines). Looking at her, I seemed to forget how to breathe. The
first time we had sex, we were fairly traditional--two old
missionaries--but then we began to experiment with fingers,
mouths, and various other organs. When I finally looked over at
the clock, breathing hard, several hours had passed (you have no
idea how old that statement makes me feel).

After about a week, we had a sexual experience in which MJ taught
me something about intimacy. I was on top of her, slowly
thrusting, and looked down at her face. I was astonished to see
that she was looking directly up at my eyes, pulling and twisting
her nipples. In my experience, few people are confident enough to
look deeply into a lover's eyes. It was a moment of supreme
sexual intimacy, and one we duplicated often.

Over the next few weeks, we explored our oral compatibility. One
of our favorite positions for oral sex was me sitting on the side
of the bed and MJ on her knees, sitting between my thighs,
looking up into my face, and working solely by touch. I could
look deep into her dark eyes and feel her tongue flick once,
twice, three times on the underside of my cock. Then she would
take a warm, wonderful suck. She asked me one day if I thought of
her as a submissive slave girl. I hadn't but immediately had a
vision of that as I moved to the side of the bed.  Several nights
later, she arrived in a raincoat, under which she was wearing a
gauzy see-through top and harem pants. When she dropped the
raincoat, I almost had to give myself CPR. That night, just after
she had brought me with her mouth, MJ said, "Would you like me to
do that again, lover--right now?" I did and she did.

And when I went down on her, MJ would put two pillows behind her
head so that she could look into my eyes and she could make
suggestions about how fast and hard she wanted me to go. She was
very good about saying what she wanted and what she didn't.

I was and am 5' 10," which meant MJ and I fit in an unexpected
way. She was easily the best kisser I have ever known,
consistently demonstrating why they were called "soul kisses." We
were standing in my bedroom  nude one day, swirling tongues and
hands and as I became erect, my cock started poking her between
the legs. She reached down and slipped me up inside her,
surprising us both. And then we started experimenting. If we
pulled on each other's asses, I could actually thrust very deeply
into her, which we did several dozen times. We moved slowly and
as we came nearer climaxing, she moved her right hand down
between us and smeared her fingers around on me and in herself. I
didn't think much of this until I started to climax, and I
suddenly found one of her fingers sinking slowly and repeatedly
in my asshole. I almost fell over. MJ had been getting her
fingers lubricated for a rear attack.

One night MJ stepped out of the shower wearing earrings and a
tattoo. She paused because she knew I wanted to look at her. Her
normally creamy skin was a little pink from the shower. She held
up her breasts, twirling her nipples and then slowly turned
around, pausing to let me look at her ass. She could see I was
aroused.

She said, "A penny for your thoughts."

And I said, "I'd like to lick you till you squirm."  I
immediately lay down on the floor with my clothes still on.

"Yes?" she asked, and I replied, "I'm just giving you a face to
sit on."

She came directly toward me, straddled my head (a wonderful view
that was) and hunched down on her knees, settling her hips over
my head. When she leaned forward a bit, her sex rested against my
mouth. I proceeded to tongue flick and suck her clitoris, pulling
it into my mouth ever so often. She started squirming almost
immediately, her pubic hair tickling my nose. These  Squirms were
followed by moaning and then by my face and chin getting
extremely slippery. I looked up to see the undersides of her
breasts, which were great even from that angle, and then watched
her fingers as she pulled her nipples farther and farther out,
causing even more squirming and moaning. MJ took a deep breath
and then she climaxed around my tongue--one, two, three clenches.
MJ told me that night that I was part of her aerobic workout that
summer, and I have never worked on my cardiovascular stamina with
such gusto.

MJ once showed up late at my apartment one night after working
out. She was drenched in sweat but wanted to get together. I
could see that a shower was in order but suggested we try a
candlelit bath. I stayed outside the tub, soaping her very slowly
and carefully in every part of her body, and found her turning
very limp in the tub. As I started to drain the water out, I
moved MJ back and down, putting a folded bath towel under her
head. I turned the water on so it was a perfect combination of
hot and cold. Then I moved her body forward toward the faucet,
putting herlegs up the wall. She slid her hips underneath the
faucet water. As she repositioned herself and the water began
hitting her clitoris, MJ's head thrashed. As her clitoris became
more engorged, her reactions grew louder. I noticed that her
legs, essentially upright before, had moved down the wall until
they were spread wide, her knees closer to her body, her hands
pulling her legs apart, her hips thrust upward. It looked--and
sounded--as if she were giving birth to orgasms. I'm not sure how
many times she climaxed but the progression was dramatic,
starting with low moaning and working up shouting "Oh Gods" and
"Yesses." The noise grew louder until finally she couldn't take
it any more, motioning with both hands for me to turn off the
water. I quickly dried her and took her to bed. Her body shook
for a good forty-five minutes and we lay closely spooned for the
rest of the night.

Her singing skills led to several other surprises. Something I
had not realized about singers: if they have received training,
they have developed what MJ called "diaphragmatic control." I
nodded politely at this until later in the evening when I was on
top and inside her, thrusting. MJ said, "Does this feel good?"
and immediately shrunk her vagina to the circumference of a
pencil. I collapsed on her, begging her not to do that quite yet.
But when the occasion arose, so to speak, I asked her to tighten
up, and it was otherworldly. Susan, with her tiny bottom, I had
thought of as tight, but there were times--like this one--that MJ
made Susan seem as wide as a three-car garage.

And then there were the multi-octave hum jobs. MJ had perfect
pitch and she delighted in plucking my insides by humming notes
on my cock during oral sex. I remember that low notes were
particularly satisfying. I also recall that b-flat--for some
unknown reason--was very fulfilling.


Together

I had been up front with both women about exclusivity, saying
that I wouldn't be and they shouldn't be either. They both knew
that I was going out with other people and I knew both of them
had done the same--although Susan was only having sex with me. I
remember one time in particular when a date had asked MJ to do
something kinky and she had rushed over to try it with me.

I figured that with these two, the direct approach was best. I
said to each of them, "I'm going to be leaving in two weeks and I
was thinking about a way we could have a goodbye party. How do
you feel about having another woman with us? I've heard that
lesbians can have sex all night (I had probably gotten this from
some definitive source like The Playboy Advisor)."

Their reactions were similar. Each said in her own way that she
was no lesbian; Susan even said that she couldn't picture herself
ever going down on a woman. They didn't, however, reject it out
of hand because in the previous eight weeks I had suggested some
fairly outrageous things but I had never steered them wrong. They
both considered it. During some particularly tender moments I
mentioned to each that "You have to wonder what sex would be like
with two tongues, four hands, and twenty fingers on your most
sensitive parts." They thought about it for several days and then
agreed--with cautious enthusiasm. I invited them over to my
apartment for that Friday night. I worked hard to keep my
expectations small because you never knew what was going to
happen in a contrived situation. They could hate each other on
sight (but I prayed they wouldn't).

While neither of them had ever had sex with a woman, both
appreciated a sexy female. I had spent some time with each of
them pointing out those women who turned me on and there was
usually agreement that the woman was sexy. I had once gone with
MJ to a negligee party at a local hotel. MJ found herself almost
embarrassed when she became turned on and could easily see how
aroused I was. She sucked me off twice on the way home. As I read
this, I wonder how I ever lived to be thirty-one.

I had asked each of them to dress as sexily as possible. When
they showed up, they had far exceeded my expectations. Susan
arrived wearing a black leotard top with a short red leather
skirt, maybe six inches long and slit to the waist, showing her
bare dancer's legs to great advantage. The top was so tight
against her body that you could not only see her gumdrop
nipples--you could count the bumps on her areolae. She moved into
the room with the grace I'd come to expect.

MJ arrived wearing a tight, dark blue knit dress, ending about a
foot above her knee, made from some sort of thin cotton--the sort
of dress that only a perfect body could wear. Sheer enough to be
partially transparent, it clung to her, shifting color as she
moved, showing parts of her body at random, here a nipple, there
a dark triangle. She looked nuder than nude. I wanted to reach
out and touch her and, as I looked at Susan, I could see the same
thought flit across her mind. Susan and MJ eyed each other very
directly, both blushing a little (I had never seen either of them
blush before), and each noticed the other's hardened nipples. It
was clear they each liked what they saw. My expectations started
to rise with my cock.

I had been lucky enough to score some hash so Susan and I filled
a bowl and began smoking. I realized that we had had enough when
I felt myself gently bobbing against the ceiling. Susan reached
over, spreading the bathrobe, and stroked my cock to even greater
attention. I was very stoned. I felt as if I were getting an
erection on top of my erection--it was that kind of high. MJ's
preferred poison was tequila. I had gotten her limes and salt and
mix and she had made a pitcher of margaritas. I had one so she
would not have to drink alone and then she had four more. There
was conversation, a little nervouslaughter, and the room suddenly
filled with hormones. I felt, then looked down and saw MJ's hands
with Susan's playing with my erection. There were definitely
possibilities here.

While we were all sitting on the living room carpet, floating,
Susan and MJ removed my bathrobe, and Susan leaned down and took
me in her mouth. MJ looked on with interest and I could see her
breathing increase. I barely resisted the idea of standing and
applauding. Then Susan disengaged and we removed MJ's clothes as
if she were a Christmas present. MJ and I then quickly removed
Susan's skirt (one snap) and leotard top (two snaps). I held out
my arms and the three of us hugged, nude, my cock bobbing. I
suggested that we get to know each other a little better and
directed them to the bathroom, where my monster tub plus shower
awaited. I turned the taps on and then stepped in, followed
quickly by Susan and MJ.  Two of us could almost stand
side-by-side in the shower but it worked better with us standing
three in a line. I moved so that MJ was in the middle, facing
Susan with her back to me. We weren't in the shower's direct
line, which allowed us to wet and then slowly soap MJ's body. I
did her back, her ass, her thighs, and her long legs. At the same
time Susan started at the top front, soaping her arms, her
breasts, her stomach, and then down her legs as well, finishing
with her most tender areas. Susan rubbed her lightly and once, as
I was working on MJ's calves, I looked up at MJ's crotch to see
Susan putting four small fingers inside her. MJ buckled a bit.
She was on the verge of coming but when Susan started to work
more forcefully on her clitoris, MJ managed to say, "No, your
turn now." And we rinsed her off.

Susan them stepped in the middle of us and, unsurprisingly, took
much less time to soap. MJ and I found that it was easier just to
kneel and lather her everywhere. Again I had the back. There was
a great moment when I was lathering from her inside ankle up to
her crotch and met MJ's hands moving in the same direction on the
other side. We moved our hands slowly, both of us moving our four
fingers up and over her respective openings. As we did this,
Susan raised on her tiptoes as if to prolong the sensation. MJ
then spent a good five or six minutes lathering Susan's breasts
while I was working on her back and thighs. As MJ lathered and
lathered, Susan came, which startled MJ. She looked at me as if
to say, "Is she kidding?" and when I nodded no,  MJ started
lightly rubbing Susan's clitoris, I mouthed to her to go harder,
which she did. The results were not long in coming. Susan's legs
semi-collapsed and MJ and I had to hold her up as she climaxed
again. I checked MJ, who was  shaking her head in wonderment at
Susan's sensitivity. She did say to Susan, "Now you owe me."
Susan, with eyes closed, only smiled and rinsed herself off.

Then I took the middle spot. MJ worked on my backside while Susan
took the front. Four deft hands, twenty talented fingers, were
working over every nerve in my body, stroking, prodding,
entering, and pulling. I was close to sensory overload; I felt
myself start to move closer to coming and then I stopped Susan
and said,"This is not where I want to finish." I rinsed off, we
dried each other in turn, and then the three of us padded, naked,
back to the bedroom.

There Susan and MJ suddenly went to their knees in front of me.
There were two tongues, four lips, and many fingers somehow
swirling over my erection. It felt as if my body were being
screwed into the universe. I knelt down by MJ to kiss her and
suddenly Susan's mouth was there as well. These days, a three-way
kiss is almost common. In the seventies, though, it was
unbearably erotic. As I moved back a little, the kiss continued
without me and Susan and MJ pressed their mouths and bodies
against each other. Theys slowly sunk to the floor and I happily
watched them play with eacjh other.

Then Susan moved so she was directly facing MJ and moved her hand
between MJ's legs. She said that she "owed" MJ. As she did that,
I moved behind MJ and reached around, beginning to circle and
pull her nipples.  The sensations were clearly appealing to MJ
because her breathing lost rhythm and her head lolled over a bit.
After about ten minutes of dual caresses, MJ began to moan and
shortly after that, she shuddered and came. Both Susan and I felt
it. Susan looked both triumphant and very turned on.

Susan then pushed MJ back full length onto the bed and surprised
me. She crawled up between MariJo's legs and sloooowllyy pressed
her face between MJ's legs, using her fingers to uncover her
clitoris. Susan clearly knew what she was doing, although she had
never done it to another woman before. There was licking and a
sound of suction as Susan did what she was so fond of me doing,
sucking MJ's clitoris into her mouth and then licking it. MJ's
breathing changed, her eyes closed and her back arched. I
listened for the moaning and watched the thrashing of her head
that normally prefaced her climax but she didn't come. Susan had
backed off and was licking her lightly again. MJ let out a long
ragged breath and seemed to be recovering herself. Then Susan did
it again, using her tongue to bring MJ to the knife edge of
release and then backed off again. MJ said, "Oh my God." For the
third time Susan bore in and MJ's breathing speeded up, her chest
flushed, and as she approached climax, she begged Susan to keep
going. This time Susan didn't bring her back down. The sucking
noises increased, I could see Susan's hand burying itself in MJ
and then  MJ had a screaming, twisting climax. Susan moved up to
MJ's face, giving her a very deep kiss and saying, "Now we're
even." And MJ smiled and said, "No--now I think you're way
ahead...."

While Susan's head was still between MJ's legs, MJ reached down
and pulled Susan's leg so  Susan's body moved beside her own,
head to feet. MJ then lifted Susan's hips and put them over
Marijo's face. I could see Susan flinch as MJ's tongue went to
work but when she reached out to return the favor to MJ, she
found her mouth was still a good six inches away from MJ's vagina
(In my experience, this never happens in porn movies or erotic
stories). She laughed and then reached out and carefully started
circling MJ's clitoris with her index finger. I counted. She was
circling the clitoris seven times (during which MJ had shallow
breathing) and then sinking two or three fingers deeply inside MJ
(at which she took several huge breaths). Over and over. There
was suddenly a great deal of moaning in the room. Susan came
first, pushing her ass down and then lifting it a bit over MJ's
mouth. But she continued with her fingers until MJ had another
shouted climax. It was good that the apartment walls were thick;
it wouldn't have been a great night for the cops to arrive.

I was on my back. MJ got up on the bed and straddled my hips. 
Then, in what I thought of as athletic feat, she moved up, over,
and onto me, all without using her hands. MJ started to thrust
back and forth. It felt wonderful, of course, and then I noticed
Susan lying beside us, watching as MJ impaled herself again and
again on my cock. Susan reached over and clasped her hand around
my cock, tightening her fingers. She started to get turned on
and, seeing me occupied, started to circle her clitoris.  "Susan,
Susan, " I said," I still have a tongue." She quickly straddled
my mouth but surprised me by facing backwards, toward MJ. And
while I was licking her hard and thrusting, I could feel them
move together. I couldn't see this, because my face was covered
with Susan's crotch. But whatever was going on, it drenched my
face. Where was a video cameraman when you needed one? I believe
that MJ came first, followed by Susan and then me. Everyone gave
the position five stars.

The rest of the night was a little murky. We had left one light
on in the bedroom, against the far wall. None of us slept very
well, though for different reasons. Susan and MJ never stopped
having sex and I was awakened again and again to sounds and
images I'll never forget. Sucking, slurping, moaning, many "Oh
God's" and screamed climaxes, with the accompanying sights: Susan
deliciously squatting over MJ's face, with MJ's tongue and
fingers darting up into her; MJ's long legs up in the air in a V,
Susan's head bobbing and nodding between them; MJ's face, looking
as if she had slipped into coma; and at one point MJ's gorgeous
ass, oiled during a massage. They would come and then come and
then come some more. As I sunk under darkness for the last time,
in the distance I heard b-flat....

It then seemed as if I were asleep for no more then six seconds
when I felt warm suction on my cock and MJ's voice in my ear
saying, "Susan and I want to thank you for a great party." I
looked down to see and feel Susan swirling, sucking and licking
my cock. Then I saw MJ tap Susan's head and heard Susan's voice
as MJ ducked out of sight and a different kind of swirling
suction continued. I was forced to wonder if I had regressed into
some particularly vivid adolescent wet dream, but I quickly
realized that I had never been this imaginative as an adolescent.
This tag team blow job went on and on and I do not ever remember
into whose mouth I came. Did it really matter?

The three of us were lying there nude and expended. I asked them
if they had gotten any sleep at all.

Susan said, "Not exactly. We did rest for short periods. We spent
most of the night cuddling."

"If you were just cuddling," I replied, "then what were those
slurping sucking noises and shouting that woke me again and
again?"

MJ replied, "Well, sometimes the cuddling led to other things."
At which both of them laughed maniacally.

And MJ said, "Susan and I really thought you were bullshitting us
about lesbians going all night long but you weren't. Amazing."
And MJ looked over at Susan as intimately as she did at me during
our special times.

I asked the critical question: "Shall we do this again some
time?" and Susan reached over to stroke MJ's thigh and said, "Who
said anything about stopping this time? The sun's not up yet."
And the night went on.

In the following two weeks I was so tired I found myself
stumbling around, groggy. Either Susan or MJ was almost always at
my apartment during the day and both of them were there every
night. I'm sure my teaching was less than inspired but my bedroom
was as inspired as it has ever been. I could have produced enough
videos those last two weeks to have made a fortune now on EBay.
They did let me take some Polaroids of them buried in each other
that I will treasure forever, even in their current faded state.

After I left the regional campus, I wondered if MJ's and Susan's
bisexuality had just been a little fling. But they called
me--sometimes together--and I learned that they had continued to
go out together. Susan told me that she knew MJ wouldn't make her
pregnant and MJ said something about Susan bringing out her
mothering instinct (and I heard a slap on bare skin) and MJ went,
"Oof.").  MJ left town eighteen months later and Susan followed
shortly afterward. I remember months later a drunken late night
call from MJ thanking me for doubling her dating pool (with
high-pitched laughter--not Susan's--in the background). I
wondered if I would see them again. It turned out I was fortunate
enough to spend time with each of them and, on one great night,
all three of us got together for the last time. But those are
other times and other stories.