THE MEASURE OF MAN

An Epic by Gil Gamesh

Chapter Twenty-One

 As for you, Gilgamesh, fill your belly with good things; day and night, night and day, dance and be merry, feast and rejoice. Let your clothes be fresh, bathe yourself in water, cherish the little child that holds your hand, and make your wife happy in your embrace; for this too is the measure of man.

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CAST OF CHARACTERS:
Kieran Stuart, 40; Siobhan Stuart, 39, 18 in flashback; Kavan Stuart, 13; Arial Stuart, 11 (almost 12); Kerry Stuart, 7 (and ½)

Angelina Brusoni, 18 in flashback; Mikaeli Brusoni, 20 in flashback

TELLING THE STORY:
Kieran Stuart, Siobhan Stuart

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(KIERAN)

I was sitting on the deck with Siobhan. Almost bedtime. We both had on our sweat suits and we were wrapped in a blanket against the February cold. Her hand kept sneaking between my legs. She said it was because her hands were cold. When she put her hand down my pants and grabbed my cock, it didn’t feel cold to me.

“Kieran, guess what your kids were doing this afternoon.”

“Climbing Mount Fuji in Japan?”

“Don’t be silly.”

“Buggering the Bishop in the belfry?”

“Don’t be silly. What’s a belfry?”

“Oh shit, Siobhan, what have they done now?”

“Kavan was showing them how he jacks off.”

“He’s already showed me. He’s got a nice dick already. He’s got hair on his balls. When he shoots off, it’s mostly clear. There’s some white sperm in it.”

“Well he was lying on his bed, jacking off. Arial was on one side of him and Kerry was on the other. He was giving his dick a good workout when I walked in. He’d left the door open so I didn’t knock. He said, ‘Oh, shit,’ and kept on doing it. I watched him and he kept his eyes on my face. When he came, a little spurted out on his stomach and he milked the rest out. He made a nice little mess.”

“What’d the other kids do?”

“They just watched. Arial said, ‘That was a good one, Kavan.’ Kerry said, ‘Yeah, that’s the best one you’ve done yet.’”

“Well, I’m glad we raised our kids to be like that. I’m proud of my three little angels.”

“I thought you would be.”

“Come on, let’s go to bed. Now that you’ve got it hard, I don’t want to waste it.”

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(SIOBHAN)

The quiet hour. The fifteen minutes between the time the children are made to go to bed and the time the parents decide to follow. No television. No noise. Only the sound of a page turning in a book.

Kieran was reading a paperback after Kavan had finally followed his younger sister and brother to bed. “The mail’s on the table beside you,” I said, curious about the handwritten letter addressed to him that I hadn’t opened. It was written in child-like cursive

“Thanks, Siobhan,” he muttered. He scanned through all the mail, stopping on the last one. He opened it and read it quietly. When he looked up at me, he could see the curiosity in my face.

“What’s the letter about?”

“It’s just some girl,” he said, and then smiled at me. Teasingly? Devilishly? “So you did have sex with someone in your freshman year in college, didn’t you?”

I was totally surprised. What the hell was he talking about? I’d never said anything to him about my freshman year. I hadn’t told him I did. I hadn’t told him I didn’t.

“Yes, I did,” I finally managed to say. “But I’ve never said one word about that to you. Who’s that damn letter from?”

“It’s from Kerry’s girlfriend. She calls him Kerr. Must have looked up our address in the phone book and then written down my name instead of his. Pretty hot stuff.”   

“Let me see that?” It was from a girl. To Kerry. Asking him to sit with her when they went on the field trip. I’d been suckered into that one.

“Kieran, sometimes you’re a real…”

“Shithead?”

“A real…”

“Dickhead?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“When’re you gonna tell me about it?”

“We don’t have time tonight.”

“Saturday night? I’ll tongue your clit ‘til you come.” He stuck his tongue out at me.

“I can’t remember stuff like that the way you can.”

“Saturday night? I’ll tongue your clit and finger fuck you until you come twice.” He stuck his index finger out and curled it upward as though it were in me. 

To hell with the subjunctive mood. I was in the imperative mood. “I’ll give you thirty minutes of story tonight for one orgasm. That’s all!”

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Angel was my roommate for all of my freshman year. Her name was Angelina Brusoni. Everybody called her Angel. Little did they know. We had a lesbian affair from October through the next May. I was also part of an incestuous ménage a trois for a good part of the year.

Angel looked like an Italian renaissance statue of a woman come to life, except no sculptor ever carved one like her. She had the face of an angel with big dark eyes, a pert little nose, and a perfect mouth. She was still almost little-girl like, just over five feet tall, with small perfect breasts and hips that had barely widened into a woman’s.

She was a joy to have as a roommate. She was always happy, smiling, or singing. She was also studying, making A’s and B’s in every course, and acting in plays in the drama department. She held down a part-time job and studied during almost all her free time. She never seemed to have an extra penny to spend. We spent a couple of Saturday afternoons at thrift stores, adding to her college wardrobe.

She was also – what’s the opposite of modest? – relaxed, casual, open about her body when we were in our room. When the room was warm, she’d lounge around in nothing but a pair of panties. She thought nothing of doing her toenails in the nude, even when she knew I could see the area between her legs. She certainly looked virginal, whether she was or not.

About a month after we started rooming together, we had a bad thunderstorm in the middle of the night. The lightening cracks awakened me and I got out of bed and pulled the drapes tighter over the window. When I got back in bed, she followed me.

“Can I sleep with you?” she asked.

I got back in bed and then held the cover up for her. She lay down on her side and scooted back until her butt bumped against me. I put my arm over her. She pulled my hand to her lips, kissed it, and then pressed it against her breasts.

“I don’t like lightening and thunder,” she said, sounding just like a little girl. “It scares me.”

I pulled her closer to me and we fell asleep spooned up together. When I woke up the next morning, she was back in her own bed. 

It all started one Saturday afternoon in the fall of that year. I had my small TV on the football game between our college and another regional school. I was half listening to it while I was in the bathroom that we shared with the two girls in the adjourning room. I had the area between my legs and around my pussy lathered up and I was trying to see to shave myself. Angel walked in on me. She sat down on the toilet and peed and then just sat there watching me. I couldn’t hide what I was doing from her. With one foot on the sink and one on the floor, I felt like an exhibit in a contortionist’s show.

“I need to shave too. But I can’t ever see what I’m doing down there. How do you do it?”

“Very, very carefully,” I answered

“No, seriously, I always end up with stubble that itches or little cuts that burn for days. I wish I could just get it nice and smooth for a few days. I’d shave it all off if I could.”

I bent over trying to see where I was using the razor. Angel leaned over to get a better look. “You’re no better at it than I am. Damn, why do we have to have hair around it when the guys like it bald?”

“Angel! How do you know they like it bald? Are you an expert on guys’ likes and dislikes?”

“I know one guy who likes it better when it’s like a Mexican hairless Chihuahua. I think I’m going to shave it all off. I can’t decide whether to trim it like a heart or like an arrow pointing down. Shit, he knows where it is, anyway. How do you think it would look bald?”

“Well, cold weather is here, why don’t we just let it grow out into a fur sporran?”

“What the hell is a sporran?” she asked.

“It’s what a Scot wears in front of his kilt.”

“Sorta keeping the family jewels warm, huh?” 

“I suppose. I’d like to get a guy in a kilt,” I said. “Imagine how much fun he’d be on a date when I sneaked my hand up under his skirt. I wonder what they really wear under a kilt.”

“I’ve heard it gets damn cold in Scotland. Maybe they wear one wool sock and ear-muffs,” she giggled.

I tried to picture a well-dressed Scotsman. I succeeded enough to bust out in giggles too.

Angel reached under the sink for a plastic pan and filled it with warm water. She grabbed a couple of towels. “Come on.”

I put both feet on the floor. “What do you want?”

“I’m going to spread a couple of towels down on your bed. You’re going to put your ass down on them. I’m going to shave your pussy.”

“Angel, you can’t do that!”

“Why not? I’ve seen a pussy before. I’ve got one. I’ll be very careful. Besides, when I get through, you’re going to shave me.”

The idea intrigued me. What would it be like? Nobody had ever made me an offer like this. Couldn’t hurt, could it, if she was careful? Hell, I might as well try it at least once.

I positioned myself on the towels. Angel turned her head from side to side, looking, trying to decide which way to approach the job.

“Put your knees up and spread out as wide as possible. I’ll try to get the hair down in the crease between your legs and pussy first.”

I quit trying to watch, dropped my head on my pillow, and closed my eyes. I could feel the razor gliding over the crease while she pulled the outer lips on one side toward the center. She changed to the other side and repeated the procedure.

“Grab your knees with your hands and pull your butt up a little. I’m going to try to shave a little further back.”

I felt the strokes, very slow and careful, on my perineum. She wiped me clean with a warm cloth and inspected her work.

“I’m not going to try to shave the hairs around your asshole. If some guy gets back there, he can just damn well put up with a little hair.”

“Are you through?” I asked.

“Depends. I’d like to shave off this brillo pad on your mound. I think I’d like it better if it was smooth too.”

“Angel, we can’t do that. What if somebody saw it?”

“What if they did? You got anybody you’re showing it to?”

“No, not right now. If I let you do it, will you let me shave yours too? We could both be smooth as ten-year olds.”

“Yeah, you stay right there. The lather’s dried out. I need some more warm water and lather.”

I kept my eyes shut until she came back. I heard water dripping in the plastic pan and then I felt a warm washcloth being placed over my mound and between my legs.

“We’ll let that soak into the hairs so they’ll be easier to cut.”

She waited a minute or so, humming to herself, then pulled the cloth off and I heard the squirt of cream out of the can. She spread it all over the remaining hair, waited a little bit, and then started stroking again. She had to wash off the razor frequently. When she was finally finished, she said, “There, take a look. I think I rather like that.”

I sat up and looked down. My pussy looked like a little girl’s, smooth and hairless. She pushed me back down, leaned closer, looked, dipped her fingers in the pan of water and wet an area or two. A couple of more swipes with the razor and she straightened up again.

“That’s not a split beaver anymore. That’s a bald eagle, a noble bird if I’ve ever seen one.”

I rubbed all around and between my legs. It did feel smooooooth and silky. I smiled up at her. “Good job, Angel.”

“One more thing,” she said. “I’ve got some moisturizing cream I like. Let me get it.”

She dug out the cream and gently began to smooth it over the shaved areas.

“You’ll like this cream. It makes everything feel smooth and moist. Doesn’t have anything in it that’ll burn if you get it in your pussy. It has a little spicy smell, like cinnamon. I’ve been told it even tastes good. Let me check how you feel.”

She lowered her head down toward my stomach, rubbed her chin over my mound, then turned her face side to side and rubbed it with both cheeks. She moved lower and I opened my legs to let her to get her chin and face between my legs. Instead of chin, I felt tongue. I felt an instant flash of heat as she licked up first one side, then the other, and then just a little touch in the middle.

“It’s as smooth as silk. Somebody’s gonna love this. Ready to shave me?”

I’ll have to admit it was easier shaving around somebody else’s pussy than around my own. I had expected Angel’s Italian heritage to give her a real wiry bush but her pubic hair was soft as silk and she had less between her legs than I did. Everything down there looked small and virginal. I thought she’d never been fucked. Boy, was I wrong!

When I was through shaving her, I used my fingertips to see if I could feel any stubble. Maybe I rubbed her a little too long because she opened her legs wider apart and the small inner lips of her cunt opened just a little. I could see a gleam of moisture in the slit.

I could say she was the one who started the whole affair. The truth is, I’m the one who gave the first real lick. I stretched out on the end of the bed, stuck my face down there, and very gently ran my tongue up the almost-straight line of her opening. 

“Oh, oh, oh fuck, Siobhan, do it,” she moaned. “Lick me. I need it. I wanna come so bad.”

I didn’t know what to do. I’d sucked cock before but that didn’t tell me what to do with a woman. I remembered when I’d had a guy go down on me. I had to tell him what to do. He couldn’t find my clitoris until I pulled back the hood and showed him where to lick. So I just did to Angel what I’d wanted the guy to do to me. It wasn’t that long until her inner lips were standing open and wet with my saliva and her juices. Her clit crept out from under its hood and was dark reddish-brown. I gave it a good licking until she came, moaning and thrashing around against my face.

I crawled up on the bed and cuddled against her while she came down and her breathing slowed. A little later, she turned to me and brought her lips up to mine.

“I love the taste of my cunt on somebody else’s lips,” she whispered. I wondered just who that somebody else had been.

She made love to me. She entwined her arms and legs with mine and kissed me with open mouth and tongue until I felt my own cunt getting wet and hot. She moved down to my breasts and sucked my nipples slowly and gently. I thought I could almost come just from her sucking. When she moved further down and got her face between my legs, I thought I’d found nirvana. She was so slow, so gentle, so insistent on licking me, never pausing as I began to moan and squirm. I knew I was close and when she stuck one finger in me and pressed the right spot and then sucked my clit as hard as she could, I had one screaming big orgasm.

We discovered it was a wonderful way to spend a fall afternoon. Our football team lost. We didn’t care. We soon found that it was also a good way to wake up in the morning, to relax after studying, and especially to help go to sleep at night.

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(KIERAN)

We were taking a shower together late on Sunday night. My excuse was that I wanted to get nice and warm before we went to bed. My real reason was that I wanted some wet pussy before I went to bed. With the warm water pouring down on us, I squatted down, pulled her against my face, and tongued her clit until she came. 

We got out, still wet, and she leaned over the sink counter while I slid my cock into her from behind. I was just getting started when she said:

“Kieran, do you know what Arial and Kerry were doing this afternoon?”

“Uh, Siobhan, I don’t give a fuck, uh, what they were doing, uh.”

“They were in Arial’s room, oh, naked on the bed together, oh.”

“Un, well, we go naked, un, all the time, un, what’s wrong with that? Un.”

“They had, oh, that sex book you bought, oh, them. They were looking at a guy, oh, with a hard-on, oh, and Arial was playing, oh, with Kerry’s dick.”

“Uh, was it hard? Uh?”

“Oh, yeah, it was hard, oh, oh, oh, I love it hard. God, it’s good.”

“Uh, is that all, uh?”

“No, oh, they looked at a picture of fallatio, oh, oh, oh, and Arial sucked Kerry’s dick.”

“Did, uh, she get anything, uh, out of it, uh?”

“I don’t think so, oh, oh, oh. He’s only seven, oh, oh, oh, oh, shit, I’m coming.”

“Oh shit, me too.”

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(SIOBHAN)

Angel and I had our first argument when she told me her older brother, Mike, wanted to come to see her. She wanted to smuggle him into our room for the weekend. When I protested and asked where he’d sleep, she volunteered to sleep on the couch and let him have her bed.

“Mike was going to college here last year,” she said. “He dropped out to work for a while. Our parents can’t give us much help. Dad’s in construction and makes decent money but a lot goes for Mom’s health care. Mike and I are trying to figure out how we can get through college on our own.”

“Why don’t you try to get student loans?” I asked.

“We’re like our parents when it comes to going into debt, Siobhan. We don’t want to put a mortgage on our future. Mom and Dad wouldn’t even buy appliances or furniture unless they could pay cash. It’s just the way my family is.”

“You’re both going to try to get through college by yourself?”

“It’s not impossible. My thrift-store jeans have labels on them just like yours do. I just paid about one-tenth what you did. We get Mike’s in the same sort of places. We don’t waste money on drinking or drugs or stuff like that. Right now, our plans are that we’ll both be in school together next year. We’re going to get a cheap apartment and live together and both get part-time jobs. If money’s too tight, we’ll both drop out for a year and work and then come back.”

“He sounds like a good guy, Angel, but you know we’re not supposed to have men in our room overnight.”

“Mike really is a very good guy, Siobhan. He’s one of the most honest guys you’ll ever meet, very sweet and loving, and most of all he knows when to keep his mouth shut and when to open it.”

I thought for a minute about her last remark. “What do you mean about keeping his mouth shut?”

“We’ve been fucking each other for the last five years. You’re the third person who knows about it.”

“Who are the other two?”

“Me and Mike, silly.”

“Oh shit, you’ve got to tell me all about this!”

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Mike knocked on the door about five on Friday afternoon. When Angel let him in, he was carrying two big paper bags that were emanating wonderful aromas of Italian food. I don’t know whether it was the Italian-stallion maleness of him or the smell of good Italian food, but I fell in lust with one or the other or both immediately. The three of us stuffed ourselves and still had more to stuff in our little under-the-counter refrigerator.

“Mom’s a great cook, Siobhan,” he said. “She and I cooked this so Angel wouldn’t forget what good cooking’s like.”

“You helped cook this?” I asked. “Are you married? If not, I want to stake a claim on you. I clean; you cook.”

We sat and talked for an hour or so and I could easily see why Angel loved her brother. He did seem like a genuinely nice guy. I finally got up the courage to bring up the subject of him sleeping in our room and whether they wanted to have sex with each other. He seemed completely calm about my questions.

“Angel said she’d told you about us,” he said. “If you’re uncomfortable with us doing anything here, we won’t.”

“But you’ve been doing it for years now,” I said. “Don’t you want to find somebody else and get married and have kids? I thought Italians loved to have families, maybe big ones.”

“Oh, we’ll both get married sooner or later,” Angel said. “And we’ll both have kids someday. We just can’t afford to start dating much yet. It ain’t cheap, you know.”

“Nobody else knows about you two fucking each other?”  I asked. “If you do it at home, don’t your parents suspect anything?”

“No, because we’re very careful about it. We both love our parents. I mean that; they’re great parents. They’ve sacrificed and done so much for us. I couldn’t want more loving parents.”

“So you love’em but you lie to’em.”

“Yes and no, they’re both good Catholics. They probably couldn’t imagine in their wildest dreams what Mike and I do. I just make sure I don’t tell them what they don’t need to know.”

“Are you good Catholics?”

“No,” Mike said, “neither of us are Catholics any more. When we’re home, we go to mass with our parents. If they ask, we tell them we go when we’re not at home. We lie to them because we don’t want to hurt them.”

“I thought Catholics tended to keep the faith,” I said. “When did you lose it?”

“I lost it when I was about ten years old,” Mike said. “Our folks kept after me to be an alter boy. Dad called and set me up to go talk to the priest. When the priest got me alone with him in his office, I knew to be on guard when he shut the door. He sat down in front of me and talked to me a while. Then he leaned forward, put his hand on my knee, and asked me if I was really sure I wanted to be an alter boy.”

“This is the good part, Siobhan,” Angel said. “Wait’ll you hear what Mike told him.”

“I said my father wanted me to be an alter boy.  I didn’t. And if he ever put his hand on me again, I’d cut his cock off and stuff it down his throat.”

“You didn’t? At ten years old?”

“Yeah, I did. I’d heard enough from the other kids to watch out for the pervert.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. He called my father and said he didn’t think I had a real calling to be an alter boy. I never heard anything about it after that. When my parents made me go to confession at least once a year, I’d tell the priest, ‘Fuck you, Father, for you have sinned.’”

“Well, we’ve got two twin beds and one small couch. Now that you’ve snuck him in here, where is he going to sleep?” I asked.

“Oh, come on, Siobhan,” Angel begged. “He didn’t come this far to sleep. He came because he hasn’t had a good fuck in two months. And no blow jobs either. And I haven’t been eaten since you did it on Wednesday. I want him to fuck me and eat me.”

“Oh, ho, so you two are muff diving each other now?” Mike asked.

“No, Mike,” Angel said. “We’ve both shaved off all our pubic hair. We’re bald eagles now. We just go lickity-split.”

In spite of myself, I giggled at Angel’s description.

“Come on, Angel, lemme see it. I haven’t seen your pussy without hair in so long I’ve forgotten what it looks like.”

“Yeah, well, that’s because you got so close when I was eleven, you couldn’t see it without getting cross-eyed.”

“He started with you when you were eleven?” I asked. “And he’s two years older so that means he was thirteen then.”

“You’re good at math, Siobhan,” Angel said. “At least he didn’t fuck me for two more years after that. I used to hate it…well, not exactly hate it…when he had to do it with a rubber. I wanted to feel him come in me, not in a damned Trojan.”

“Are you on birth control now?” I asked. 

 “Have been since I was fifteen. I found out Mom was on birth control when she left a prescription on the dresser in her room. Good Catholic, ha! I stole it and took it to a different drug store and told them to fill it for my Mom. After that, I found out how to get’em from a girl at school.”

“I didn’t get fucked until I was sixteen,” I said. “I told Mom and she took me to the gynecologist and he gave me a prescription.”

Mike displayed his annoyance at our reminiscing about birth control pills. He stood up and started taking off his jeans. “If you girls are gonna talk, I’m going to bed. I’ll take the couch if somebody’s got an extra pillow and blanket.” He pulled his sweatshirt over his head and stood there in his whitie tighties, or, is that tighty whities. I think I heard two heads snap when they turned in his direction.

He was quite a hunk, I’ll have to admit. Tall, dark, and handsome. Lean body. Soulful eyes. And a bulge in front of his briefs that was most impressive. I could even see his dark pubic hair, spilling out around his briefs, down his legs, the same color his sister had before I shaved it off.

“Siobhan, we’re both on the pill. He eats pussy better than any other man I know. He’s got a fabulous dick that’ll just drive you up the wall. He can keep a hard-on, like, for hours. I’m horny as hell and I’m going to get eaten and fucked tonight. You can get it on with us or you can go to bed and pull the blanket over your head. Which’ll it be?”

I motioned for Mike to walk over to my bed. When he did, I pulled down the front of his briefs to see what he had.

“I hope you won’t think three’s company,” I said. “I hope you’ll treat me just like family.” And I stood up and started taking off my clothes.

 “Don’t take your panties off, Siobhan,” Angel said. “Mike wants to take them off. He wants to chew them off you.”

Mike looked around at the room. “There’s not enough room here to turn around in. We sure as hell can’t all three get on a twin size bed.”

“We can push’em together,” Angel said.

“Yeah, and somebody’ll break their neck falling through the crack when they come apart,” he said. “We need some way to keep them together.”

“I’ll get some nylon cord,” I said. “Somebody left a whole roll near the trash bin on the hall.”

I was back in a flash with the stash, I mean trash. Mike crawled under the bed and tied the legs of the frames together. The backs of his legs were covered with dark curly hair. I could even see it on his ass through the thin fabric of his briefs. I wondered how it’d feel if I ran my hands over it. When he rolled over, there was a huge bulge in the front of his shorts, curving around down between his legs. I wondered how it would feel if I ran my tongue over that.

Mike pulled his briefs off and threw them with his other clothes. He sat down on the couch and stroked his cock a couple of times. When it stood up, I knew I was going to find out how it would feel.

“Mike and I both know what we like to do with each other, Siobhan,” Angel said. “We’ve both screwed around with somebody else. We’ve just never done it with anybody together at the same time.”

“Jeez, Angel,” Mike said. “It’s like Italian food. Just let me serve her the same thing I serve you. If she doesn’t like rigatoni, I’ll see if she likes cannoli. I might even slip her a little tartufo if she’s real hungry.”

“Damn, I know what rigatoni and cannoli are,” I said, “but I’ve never heard of tartufo. What is it?”

“Its a rich chocolate mousse surrounding a vanilla cream center rolled in crushed hazelnuts then covered with a layer of dark chocolate,” he said, as though he were a waiter describing it to diners. “I can still quote you a long list of desserts from my job in an Italian restaurant last year.”

“Could I have an order of tongue first and then you can serve me some of that cannoli* you’ve got in your hand?” I asked.
 
Mike smiled at me with a roguish smile and asked, “Would madam permit my sou-chef to assist in serving you?”

“Sou-chef, hell,” Angel said. “Get on the bed, Mike.”

“Angel, you said you wouldn’t...”

“GET ON THE BED, MIKE!”

“Angel, I don’t want…”

“GET ON THE BED, MIKE, NOW!!”

He sat on the side of the bed, waiting, as I was, to see what Angel wanted him to do.

“LAY BACK AND SHOW US YOUR DICK, MIKE!”

He lay back on the bed and showed us his dick. I whistled in appreciation and he smiled at me.

“NOW GET IN THE CENTER, MIKE, SPREAD OUT!”	

He crawled onto the now king-sized bed and stretched out, his arms and legs extended out to the sides. He closed his eyes. I wondered what the hell was going on.

Angel got the ball of nylon cord and rolled it under the bed to me. She quickly and expertly tied her end around Mike’s wrist. She came around to my side of the bed, cut the cord, and tied the end around Mike’s other wrist. She rolled the ball of cord under the bed at the foot and soon we had Mike’s legs tied so he couldn’t lift them or bring them together.

“What are we doing, Angel?” I asked.

“We’re tying him down. We’re gonna get our bald eagles licked and he’s gonna get a good blow job.”

“Angel, I don’t...

“Shut up, Siobhan!”

“Don’t. Angel…

“SHUT UP, SIOBHAN. GET ON THE BED.”

”Fuck you, Angel!”

“GET YOUR GODDAMN ASS ON THE BED, SIOBHAN!”

I looked at the devilish gleam in her angelic eyes and saw the smile flickering on her red lips. I got on the bed beside Mike.

“What do you want me to do?” I started to take my panties off.

“Just keep your panties on, Siobhan. When Mike begs, you can cut them off with these.”

She handed me a pair of scissors.

“Get up over him. Knees over his shoulders. Hands on the wall over him. Squat down ‘til your cunt’s close to his face. Let him beg for it. When you’re ready, stuff a pillow under his head.”

“Like this?”

“That’s right. Let him sniff it. Let him lick your panties. Then cut your panties to shreds. Let him get his tongue in. Just don’t let him see it until he begs. Then cut your panties off and show him what your bare pussy looks like. If he’s bad, feed him the pieces of your panties.”

“What are you going to be doing while I’m on his face?”

“I’m going to be sucking his dick until he shoots his load in my mouth. Just wait ‘til he says come kiss me. You’ll see.” 

I moved up a little on the bed until the crotch of my panties was just inches from Mike’s chin. He bent his neck, lifted his head up, and tried to bring his mouth in contact with my crotch. He was still an inch or so away. 

I looked back at Angel. She was between Mike’s outstretched legs, one hand wrapped around the shaft of his cock, her head just above it. “Are you ready?” she whispered. I nodded. She said, “Go,” and lowered her head over his cock. Her long black hair fell around her face, shutting out my view. I could hear her slurping and sucking.

I looked back at Mike. His eyes were looking up at me, a pleading look in them. I grabbed a pillow and stuck in under his head so he was in a perfect position. I moved closer to him so that the crotch of my panties was against his mouth. Through the thin fabric I could feel his hot breath and his wet tongue licking.

I gave him a minute or two of frustration trying to lick through the fabric. When I looked back at Angel, she was alternating between her hand and then her mouth on Mike’s cock. She looked at me and winked.

I decided to take pity on poor Mike. I picked up the scissors, moved away from his face, and, with two fingers, pulled the wet fabric away from my cunt. I cut just one small amount away from the crotch, leaving a hole about the diameter of Mike’s dick. I started to drop it off the bed but Angel was watching and stopped me. 

“Ask him if he wants to eat a piece of your panties before he gets to eat your pussy,” she said.

I held the small piece of fabric in front of his face. He looked up at me, his eyes smoldering, licking his lips. When I touched his lips with the fabric, he opened his mouth. He chewed and then swallowed. I moved close to him so that the hole in my panties was above his mouth and then settled down, like a brood hen settles on her eggs. 

I closed my eyes and let Mike’s magical tongue play tricks on my cunt. I could feel Angel’s hand shaking the bed and hear her mouth making hungry noises. I was in bliss.

Mike’s tongue never lagged but gradually I realized that there were two parties being frustrated by my panties. His access to me was limited to a circle a couple of inches in diameter. I wanted him to lick me all over down there. I grabbed the scissors, backed away from him, and cut two lines, one down to the left leg, the other to the right. Mike was leering up at me. When I pulled the remains of the wet panties away from my crotch, he looked at my bald eagle and gave one big sigh – relief, appreciation, anticipation? And then he went at it, lickety split. 

After a few minutes of licking and sucking, the seizures in my cunt felt like an earthquake: a series of very strong initial jolts, followed by milder aftershocks, and finally the peace of complete satisfaction. 

I thought of posting a big sign over the bed whenever he was finished: Caution – Unrestricted Access to a Bald Pussy Can Lead to Convulsive Orgasms.

I looked back at Angel and she was giving Mike’s cock her best efforts. She was stroking his cock up and down rapidly, sort of twisting her hand at the top of each stroke, and moving her mouth up and down on the head, sucking and slurping loudly. My ass was resting comfortably on Mike’s chest and I could feel his hard muscles underneath me. He started trying to thrust upward, into Angel’s mouth, even though he was almost totally pinned down. He started pounding his head up and down on the pillow and I knew Angel was getting a mouthful.

He gradually relaxed and I heard him whisper, “Angel, come kiss me.”

I wondered what was going on. Angel moved up over his body, pushing me to one side. She straddled Mike’s stomach, leaned over his face, and brought her lips down to his. I watched in disbelief as she gave him a kiss and shared his own semen with him. I finally realized what they meant. When she kissed me, she tasted of garlic and semen.

Angel and I curled up on each side of Mike, our heads resting on the biceps of his arms. Angel was twirling her fingers in the hair on her chest.

“Should we untie him now?” I asked.

“No, Siobhan!”

“But why not? He’s got to be tired of being in that position.”

“SHUT UP, SIOBHAN. THERE’S SOMETHING ELSE HE HAS TO BEG FOR.”

I did as I was told and waited to see what would happen next. After a minute or so I heard Mike whisper, “Please, Angel, let me eat your pussy.”

“What did you say, Mike? Do you want something?”

“Yes, mistress, I mean Angel, I want to lick your pussy.”

“ASK SIOBHAN TO GIVE YOU PERMISSION!!!”	

“Siobhan, may I please lick Angel’s pussy?”

“I suppose it might be permitted,” I said. “But what’ll I do while you two are busy. You can’t expect me to do nothing, can you?”

“Please, Siobhan, would you suck my cock while I’m licking Angel’s pussy?”

“WAIT, SIOBHAN,” Angel interrupted. “How many more times can you come tonight, Mike, sweet little brother?”

“At least one more, Angel,” he whimpered.

“That’s not good enough, Mike; we need at least two more out of you.”

He waited for a moment, thinking. “I promise, Angel, at least two more times tonight.”

“And where do you want to make these little semen deposits, Mike, my little boy?”

“One for you and one for Siobhan. Anywhere you want them.”

“You realize that if you can’t deliver Siobhan and I are going to have to punish you severely.”

“Yes, Angel.”

“Come on, Siobhan, I’ve got to pee. We need to talk.”

Angel pushed me in the bathroom and pulled the door closed behind us. She stood with her back to the door, giggling while I sat down on the toilet and emptied my bladder with loud squirts into the water below. I rolled TP around my hand and patted dry.

“What will we do to punish him if he can’t come twice more?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve never had to do it. I’d like to though. Think of something.”

She let loose with her stream louder than mine, incongruous for an angelic waif of a girl. She stood up, still smiling.

“You didn’t wipe,” I said.

“I know. He’ll like it.”

Back on the bed, Angel moved into position over Mike’s face. I didn’t know if he liked a piss-wet pussy but I could hear his slurping noises.

I knelt between his legs and looked at his penis. It was in that state halfway between flaccid and erect, resting on his stomach in his patch of pubic hair, pointing toward his navel. I could see one last gob of semen that had oozed out and was clinging to the slit at the head of his dick. I carefully picked up his cock and took it in my mouth. I decided that Italian semen wasn’t really all that bad; I couldn’t even taste the garlic.

“Don’t make him come, Siobhan. If he’s got two more loads in his pistola, I want one shot in my cunt. You can have the other in yours. I think you’ll like it.”

“Yes, mistress, I mean Angel.”

I gave his cock my full attention then, hand and mouth both working together. I tried to watch his balls, to see how much they had drawn up, as a way to judge how close he was to coming again. I was slow and gentle and his balls hung low while I sucked him.

Angel came loudly, first moaning and then almost screaming. I worried that somebody in the dorm might hear her. If a would-be rescuer had busted in the door at that moment, he or she would have seen quite a sight – one Italian stallion tied down on the bed while a little brunette straddled his face and a bigger redhead sucked his cock.

After she recovered, Angel asked, “Mike, would you like to be untied now?”

“Yes, Angel, if it pleases you.”

“You pleased me, brother dear. Siobhan, would you untie our poor little boy?”

I untied him and crawled back on the bed beside him. He wrapped his long arms around both of us and gave us a big hug. Angel and I both reached for his still-erect cock at the same time.

“After you, Angel,” I said.

“No, no, Siobhan. I insist. The next orgasm’s yours. He’s yours to do whatever you want.”

“Is that right, Mike? You’ll do whatever I want you to?”

“Yes, Siobhan. Anything you want.”

I leaned over and kissed him on his mouth, redolent with the odor of garlic, two different pussies, and his own come.

“I want to get on my back and I want you on top of me. I want you to ease that big cock of yours into my cunt. I want to tie you down with my arms and legs this time. You can even kiss me if I don’t gag at your garlic and cunt and cum breath. I want you to fuck me until you blast a load down deep in me. I don’t even care whether I have another orgasm as long as you do.”

He did as he was told, pistioning, pistola-ing, away in my cunt until he had his second orgasm. I had one or two. I’m not sure how many because they sort of ran together there at the end. 

I looked at the clock and saw that it was close to midnight. I didn’t know where the hours had gone. I’d eaten Italian, been eaten by an Italian, and been fucked by an Italian. I knew I was finished for the night. She could have the third orgasm out of him if we could get it up again.

“Lemme up,” Mike said. “I’ve got to go pee.”

We all untangled and he swaggered into the bathroom, his hairy ass beautiful in rear view. I couldn’t even remember being aware of the hair on his butt when I had dug my fingernails into him and jerked him forward against me.

When he came out, he went over to the little refrigerator and bent over. “Angel, do you have a beer? I want something to drink and a bite of something to eat.” He pulled out a hunk of sandwich big enough to choke a horse and stood looking at us.

“Look on the bottom shelf, Mike. Siobhan, would you like something to eat?”

He could get it up again. With two mouths sucking on his balls and his cock, he could get it up, big and hard as it was at first. Angel got on her back and Mike crawled on top of her. He held his cock in one hand and slid it into her. He stretched out on top of her, fastened his mouth to hers, and started slowly pumping away. I watched as her arms encircled his chest, then her legs came up, splayed out, calves over his ass, ankles interlocked. Her hands found his ass-cheeks and I could see her fingernails begin to dig in. They stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity. Locked together. Moving together. Breathing and grunting together. My cunt was already drooling from being fucked and I had a towel between my legs. When he came, and maybe she did too, they both were loud enough to wake up the dead. I could feel the heat and hunger in my cunt from watching them. I wondered if there was any way he could get it up again. It turned out that he was finished for the night. 

The next day we shaved him, ass cheeks to thighs, belly button to balls. He got it up four times, two for each of us. I went to sleep on Saturday night hoping that I’d never forget the taste of garlic and cunt and semen.

Mike came back at least once a month for the rest of the year. Angel and I kept each other relatively content with regular tongue- and finger-induced orgasms. But Mike’s Italian stallion cock or cocked pistola kept both of us even more satisfied. I learned to like being treated like part of an Italian family.

The next year Mike came back to school and he and Angel rented a small apartment. I was welcomed, well-comed, on my regular visits but things just weren’t the same. My next roommate was a born-again something or other and I never saw her cunt. I didn’t care though because Mike taught me how to say “Baci il mio culo” in Italian. I used it so much Angel said I sounded like a part of her family.

<><><>

(KIERAN)

It took three nights for Siobhan to complete her story. I had an orgasm each night. I know she had four, maybe five, orgasms in return. Just like Scheherazade, I thought, except that I didn’t think I could keep up with stories every night. I was about to fall asleep when she had to tell me about our sweet little angelic kids again. 

“Kieran, guess what your ten year-old, almost eleven, daughter was doing this afternoon,” my wife said.

“I don’t want to guess. I don’t want to know. I guess it’s something I don’t want to know.”

“She was in our bathroom naked. Guess who was in there with her?”

“Oh, shit. Kerry? What were they doing?”

“She was shaving her legs –with your razor.”

“Damn, you know that’s sacred. Nobody touches my razor. Why’d you let her do that?”

“I didn’t let her. I told her you’d be mad at her. She offered to buy you a new one with her own money if I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Why’d you tell me, then?”

“I went out and bought you a new one, just like your old one. I got her one that’s made for women.”

I had to think a minute about that. “Why did you buy me a new one? Why didn’t you just put a new blade in the old one?” 

“Because you have a new one now. It doesn’t need a new blade.”

I knew something didn’t make sense but I couldn’t figure out what it was. “Why was Kerry in there with her?”

“He was watching her shave her legs. She was showing him how much hair she had on her pussy already.”

“I’m totally confused now. What happened to my old razor?”

“I gave it to Kerry. He said he liked her pussy better when it didn’t have hair on it. He wanted to shave her pussy with your old razor. He promised to be careful and not cut her so I gave it to him.”

There are days like this when you’re married with three kids. Why does a pussy with a few dozen hairs need shaving?

<><><>

Siobhan backed her butt up to me and I spooned up against her. My defeated dick fit snuggly in the wet warm area between her thighs.

I was still thinking about her story about Angel and Mike. I couldn’t wait until I could get Siobhan to tie me down and put her panty-covered pussy up to my mouth. I thought about eating through the fabric before she cut her panties off.

Garlic and semen and cunt juices. Damn, what a combination.

“Well, which did you like best? Sex with him or sex with her? Did Angel ring your chimes better than Mike donged your bell?”

“You can’t compare them!”

“What do you mean? Sure you can.”

“No, you can’t. Which do you like better, night or day?”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“Well, I think they are and I like both of them, night and day. Night and day, you are the one,” and she started singing, “there’s a hungry, yearning, burning inside of me.”


(Cannoli - A crisp pastry shell stuffed with a sweetened mixture of Ricotta cheese, liqueur, and chocolate chips.)


Baci il mio culo. = Kiss my ass.


Pistola	          =              Pistol


TO BE CONTINUED:
