.
                                                  ::

                                            as falls cuyahoga,
                                      so falls cuyahoga falls

                                                  ::

Sunlight thick and brightly soaks the air, sharp spikes of it
glaring from the silvered frames of Saaka's sunglasses as she
turns her head the oiled skin of her gleaming like some rare soft
metal as she bends over hands gripping the railing shining like
solid light hissing from the heat of it as Torvald's hands take
hold of her shoulders one thumb thick along the terribly narrow
ridge that folds into her throat arcing up and back sunlight
striking off those sunglasses again as she chuckles, mmm, oh.
What are you waiting for.

Sunlight like a brassy haze condensing into molten sweat oozing
down his back as he lifts one hand from her shoulder down to her
hip a thin pale line of flesh there crossing it the width of his
finger blurred a little separating golden flank from golden thigh
and all of it sunsoaked glistening as one foot then the other on
the rough hot concrete spreading her legs his thumb dipping under
between them finding the fingers of one of her hands already
there as he steps a little closer, grinning, eyes fixed on the
puddles of light gleaming on her bare back as his thumb and her
fingers slide his cock muffled in thin blue latex socked its head
neatly just inside the pursed lips of her cunt. She hisses again,
half-laughing.

They begin to move.

There on the edge of the concrete bunker beneath the sweep of the
great white dish. Drowning in a torrent of sunlight away from the
sharp-edged shadows of complex gantrywork netting the dusty sand
below, the flat oblong of the dish's shadow lapping at the base
of the next concrete bunker, and the next, and the next. A desert
field full of them, great bone-white ears all canted up at the
same angle like fat white sunflowers. All of them baking in that
monstrous light. Torvald's hair struck to white his head floating
still in the thick air his hips stroking knees bucking hands
braced on her shoulders back working in and out and in as Saaka
stands firmly hands gripping the waist-high rail elbows shivering
as she catches his weight and again and again. Groaning. The
groan sliding into words, oh, oh fuck me, fucking, fuck. You
cock-smoking fuck. You want it in my ass. You want him in your
ass, that's what you want. You shit. Fuck me! Dammit. I can
barely feel that. You cock-smoker. You want his goddamn prick
right now, if he, hanh, oh, shit. If he climbed up here you'd
pull out of me, you'd pull out of me and go over on your knees,
you'd fuck me you'd pull down his shorts right there and start
sucking his dick, you would, you would, you fucking faggot, come
on! Fuck me! Like you mean it, faggot! Come on! Damn! Shit! Come
on! Oh, fuck! fuck! fuck! Unh!

He pulls back but not out, straightening up above her as head
down hand on the slick hot metal bar she drags in deep breaths
her back her belly her thighs quivering. Her long straight thin
black hair pulling loose from its simple tie, hanging limp in
that thick and light-soaked air about her face. God damn, she
says, pushing back from the bar, but he plants his hand on the
middle of her back. I'm not done, he says.

She grins, looking over her shoulder at him. I'm game, she says.
I guess maybe you like my pussy after all oh shit! Her hand slips
off the rail as he plows into her and she stumbles forward
catching herself with her chest her armpit as he steps back oh,
fuck, I'm sorry -

Shit, she says, levering herself groaning off the bar.

One hand up to wipe sweat from his bare eyes his blued cock
bobbing slick and shining in the light, I'm sorry. I didn't -

I'm gonna have a bruise, she says, standing up. We're lucky I
didn't just tumble right off and take you with me.

I'm sorry, he says, again.

Hey! says Jackson Cuyahoga from somewhere below and not too near.

No blood, says Saaka, looking out into the distance through her
sunglasses, no foul.

Save something for the General, says Jackson, one hand on the
railing of the steep staircase leading up to them. You little
perverts.

Out where the yellow desert field runs smack into a low and
tumbled wall of dark brown rock a milky cloud of dust lofts up
from something moving quickly.

Shit, says Saaka. Showtime.

Torvald lays his thumb along the length of his still-upright
cock. Wraps it with fingers, gently. It will, he says, take him
another ten or fifteen minutes to get here.

Saaka smiling sunlight spiking off her sunglasses as she turns to
smirk at Torvald, black hair hanging limp, sunbeaten. You like my
pussy so much, is that it?

It's not that, says Torvald, squatting on the concrete. Get over
here, he says. On your hands and knees.

Faggot, says Saaka, grinning, turning her back to him. Getting
down on her knees.

Saaka shrieks as the Land Rover jerks to a stop and she's sent
lurching shoulders and head to thump against the back of
Jackson's seat. An oblique lozenge of light from a streetlamp
slides across her grinning face and down the front of her simple
yellow sundress as she sits up again and leans down hair almost
invisible in the darkness slithering from her shoulders to rain
against Torvald kissing him. Your stop, says Jackson.

Clomping with a giggle in her big black boots half-falling out of
the Land Rover Saaka has her sunglasses in one hand and something
else wadded up in the other. Leaning heavily one shoulder against
the side of the Land Rover Saaka unwads it and shakes out a small
black panel a flash of white waistband catching it with the thumb
of her other hand leaning over to stretch it wide and lifting
wrestling one big boot and then the other through and pulling up
her bare legs flashing pale in the street light her underwear.
Smoothing the skirt of her sundress with her now-empty hand. A
fresh red scrape mars one knee. Saaka blows a kiss backing away
up to one of a row of metal and brick stoops built into an old
loading dock. Warm lamplights and flickering television colors
shine through old glass brick walls.

Torvald in the back seat of the Land Rover runs the fingers of
one hand against his jeans his zippered fly just audible over the
thrum of the idling motor. I wish you wouldn't do that, says
Jackson in the front seat, putting the car in gear. Pulling away
into the maze of one-way streets, lurching to a stop at a red
light. Not in front of me like that, for fuck's sake, says
Jackson.

It's a long low room at the bottom of the house lit dimly by
three, no four bright spots of halogen desklamps on this table or
that shelf or precariously perched on the stack of books by the
rumpled king-sized bed. Two laptops sprawl half-open one on the
pillows one on the sheets at the foot of the bed. A long aluminum
table holds four monitors in a rack and a couple of CPUs. One of
the monitors is live, melting one image into the next of a
screensaver. A young man pale and wiry hair down to his shoulders
in only a ripped black T-shirt looks down smoking a cigarette at
the naked man rings on his thumbs and pinkie kneeling to take his
pale cock in his mouth. An older man, shaved bald, skin burned
dark in a harsh white light, stares down past the ripples of his
folded gut at the cock lurching up from his leathery lap.

Tell me about the General, says Jackson, somewhere outside in the
hall.

Oh, he was a piece of work, says Torvald, backing into the room.
Pulling his baggy grey T-shirt over his head and tossing it onto
the floor.

Tell me about him, says Jackson, undoing the last button of his
worn white workshirt and whipping it off into a corner.

He wanted me. He didn't want Saaka at all. Lifting his chin
Torvald leans back as Jackson swarms in to kiss his throat. He
didn't even look at Saaka. He wanted me.

He wanted your cock, says Jackson, unsnapping Torvald's jeans.

He wanted my cock. He wanted my cock. He followed me into the
office and told me I was a beautiful boy. Torvald groans as
Jackson's hand works its way under his waistband, surfacing then
the head of his cock gleaming in the dim light between thumb and
forefinger.

A beautiful boy, says Jackson with a chuckle. Get these pants
off. Get naked, you beautiful boy. Jackson kicks his shoes off,
snaps one of the laptops closed. Get on the bed, he says.
Shucking off his pants. Setting the laptop on them. Lie back, he
says. Lie back. Spread your ass. I want your ass. Squirting a
palmful of something clear from a clear tube.

What, says Torvald, lying back. Knees up heels knuckling into
rucked sheets. His thin cock pale yearning up along his belly
flat. No preliminaries? His hands on the cheeks of his ass.
Lifting his hips. The middle finger of his right hand rubbing his
puckered whorl. Slipping inside. He smiles.

Do we need preliminaries? says Torvald, stroking his erection
lightly glistening. Kneeling on the bed. Tell me about the
General, he says, his hands dark against the pale skin freckled
with a sheen of fine pale hairs there on the bottoms of Torvald's
thighs. Lifting them a little taking their weight as Torvald's
bare feet lift into the air. Rocking Torvald's hips up and back
his thighs like levers as Torvald's hands spread his ass there
grunting. Oh, fuck, says Torvald, as Jackson's naked cock worms
its way in.

Tell me about the General, says Jackson. You beautiful boy. Ha.
Hunh.

He wouldn't, says Torvald. Touch me. He told me to take off my
clothes while he watched. He wanted to watch.

You did?

I, oh. I did. I did. I stripped for him while he watched. He
couldn't take his eyes off me.

You were hard?

I was hard. Oh, oh whoa. Um.

Talk to me. Talk to me.

I was hard. I walked up to him and I kissed him. I licked his
lips until he opened his mouth for me and I kissed him. He turned
his head away. He said no. He said no.

You want a pillow?

Yes. Hang on - Torvald reaches up for a pillow as Jackson leans
on one hand. Angling his hips up Torvald plants his heels and
lifts as Jackson takes the pillow folded double and works it
under Torvald's hips. I, um, says Torvald as Jackson works his
arms under Torvald's knees lifting, hup, Torvald's feet dangling
over Jackson's back as he lurches forward Torvald gasping, unh,
oh, Jesus, fuck, Jesus, come on, come on. Torvald's cock
bouncing, slapping his belly. Oh. Oh.

Talk, says Jackson, thrusting, his balls bouncing against
Torvald's cheeks juddering, to me, talk. To me. Talk.

He, oh. He got on his knees, says Torvald. He got on his knees
and blew me. He gobbled me up. My hand on his, his scalp. His
skull. Grabbing his jacket. I came and he didn't stop. He let it
run out of his mouth. I could, oh. Could feel it sliding down my
cock. And he didn't stop. I couldn't stop. I was still. I was
still hard. He kept sucking me. His hand on my belly. Jesus. Oh.
His finger in my ass, hard. Dry. His hands on my hips, jerking.
His teeth. His tongue. His teeth scraping along the bottom of my
cock. Oh. Oh shit. Fuck me. Come on. Come on.

Talk to me, says Jackson. Eyes closed. Lips pursed.

I came again. I came twice in his mouth.

Jackson shudders, his head rolling back, his arms straining.
Jerks, snarling. God! Jerks again, as Torvald grunts.

Jackson panting, slumping, still inside him. Torvald smiling. I
came, he says. Twice. In his mouth. And he swallowed it all.

Jackson arches an eyebrow. Is that what you want? he says.
Panting. To come in my mouth?

I want to come, says Torvald, sitting up on one elbow reaching up
to pull Jackson's head down. Opening his mouth on Jackson's open
mouth. Kissing him. Kissing him. Leaning back now still on one
elbow as Jackson kisses his cheek bites at his chin licks his
throat takes the back of his head and pulls him up and in for
another long licking kiss. Then chuckling as Jackson's hand wraps
around his cock. Stroking.

He wants more? says Jackson, sitting up. Pulling back. But
stroking. The General?

Torvald lying back now closes his eyes, hands stretching up over
his head, belly pulling taut with a deep breath lifting his
chest. Smiling. Yes, he says. A whisper. Oh, yes. Yes. Yes.

On the computer screen, three men: the first white one on his
knees, the black one's cock buried in his yawning mouth. The
second white one behind the black one, groin glued to his hips,
his teeth bared white against the dark shoulder. Torvald's come
arcing silvery white to splat on his belly, his chest. A second
jet of it smaller, briefer, softly. Oozing into his navel.
Smiling, eyes closed. Breathing deeply.

Jackson backs away on his knees down the bed. His cock wet and
softening, smaller. A thumb smeared with Torvald's come lifted to
his mouth and licked. Clean yourself up, says Jackson. Beautiful
boy. He laughs.

Torvald stretching sits up slowly.

Well? says Vanessa, there in the dark kitchen, her hands on
Addison's bared hips standing before her. Vanessa turns her head
to nuzzle Addison's ear. Go on, she murmurs into it. Suck him
off. I want to watch.

Mother! says Addison. Frowning. Leaning back shadowy against
Vanessa.

I just, says Torvald, naked. Holding up an empty glass. A towel
in the other hand. Wanted some water, he says.

Go on, Addy, says Vanessa. Plucking at the zipper of Addison's
unbuttoned jeans. Her other hand stroking the bare stretch of
Addison's belly between heavy belt dangling open and the ragged
hem of a pale turtleneck cropped well above her navel. Addison's
hands up behind her head arms stretching up and shivering at
Vanessa's touch. I have a girlfriend, Addison says.

I could, says Torvald.

So? says Vanessa. That doesn't stop you from fucking me. Kissing
Addison's chin. Licking her lips as her hands slide under the
sweater to stroke Addison's breasts.

That doesn't stop you from fucking her, either, says Addison. Her
hands coming down to the base of her belly, fingers toying with
the teeth of her fly, the patch of dark-honey hair revealed. I'm
gay, Mom, says Addison. Kissing Vanessa.

And he fucks your father, says Vanessa. That doesn't stop him
from wanting you.

I, um, says Torvald.

He's just fucked Daddy, says Addison. He's all tuckered out.
Vanessa's hands come down out of Addison's sweater and together
as they kiss again they tug and pull at Addison's jeans,
wrestling them down the curve of her ass pressed back into
Vanessa's groin framed by black satin garters dangling loose at
the tops of her bare thighs chased with silver in the darkness.
His balls are empty, says Addison. Chuckling. But his ass is
full.

Look, says Torvald, as Vanessa unhooks her thumb from Addison's
jeans and reaches out to lay a fingertip lightly on his swelling
cock bobbing to meet her touch. I don't know, says Vanessa. I
think he's ready for more.

I, um, says Torvald. Setting the glass on the counter. Really, I
could -

I don't want to suck his cock, says Addison. I don't want to suck
anybody's cock. Shoving her jeans down to the middle of her
thighs parting. Hips rolling forward shoulder back to nestle her
head on Vanessa's shoulder kissing Vanessa's throat as her hand
traps Vanessa's hand stroking it along the inside of her thighs.
I want you. I want your hands. A kiss between each sentence. I'm
horny and I want.

Honey, says Vanessa putting her hands on Addison's shoulders
pushing her to take one step hobbled by her unpeeled jeans closer
to Torvald, if you want Mommy you're going to have to do what she
says. I'm the sexy best, remember? On the counter by the ghostly
cloud of filmy stocking-stuff an absurd lazy V of electric blue,
thick and long. If you, she says as she picks it up, don't suck
him off, I'm going to pack up my toys and go. She hefts it like a
club and lifts it gently brushing Addison's cheek with one
bulbous tip. Torvald licks his lips and does not look away. But
if I like what I see, says Vanessa.

Mom, says Addison.

What time were you supposed to be home? says Vanessa.

Addison sighs. One, she says.

One o'clock in the morning, says Vanessa. And what time is it?

Half past two, says Torvald.

Shut up! from Vanessa and Addison almost at once. What time is
it? says Vanessa. Torvald looks away. The head of his cock bobs
with the motion, straining up towards the unlit lamp over the
massive wooden butcher's block in the middle of the dark kitchen.

Two thirty, says Addison, eyes closing. It's two thirty. She
turns her head slightly and brushes the tip of the electric blue
dong with her lips. Her hands are on Vanessa's hand, the hand
that does not hold the dong, the hand that slips into the
darkness between Addison's thighs. And you reek, says Vanessa. Of
cigarette smoke and booze and someone else's pussy.

Mom, says Addison. Licking the tip of the dong. Torvald smiles.

You were living it up at some party screwing a slutty cheerleader
leaving your poor mother at home all alone with nothing but my
fingers and Nadia's Sweet Revenge to keep me going. You owe me,
little girl.

Addison unpeels her lips from the dong. Mom, she says. I was
only.

Shh, says Vanessa. He wants you. He wants you to. Go on.

Mom, says Addison. I don't. I don't want. Vanessa kisses her
opening Addison's mouth with her tongue. Torvald drops the towel
and leans back against the counter. Go on, murmurs Vanessa into
Addison's mouth. The absurd blue double dong brushing Addison's
bare belly. Addison grabbing it, pulling it down. No, says
Vanessa, pulling it away. Bend over and blow him. Lick his cock.
Make him come in your mouth. If I like what I see. She touches
Addison's lips with the dong. Addison kisses it. Pretend it's a
dildo, baby, says Vanessa. It's a strap-on I'm wearing and you're
licking it up before -

Mother, says Addison sharply, turning to look back at her. I am
not -

Just, says Vanessa. Go. Pushing her gently. Torvald braces his
hands on the counter edge. Addison glares up at him. This does
not mean, she starts to say.

Oh, I know, he says.

Addison shoves her jeans down past her knees kicking her feet out
of her sandals and one bare foot yanked free steps on the jeans
and shoves them off the other foot kicked away. I have got, she
mutters, to get you to make up with Sam.

Go on, says Vanessa.

Addison dim light silvering coolly bare skin from the beneath the
cropped hem of her sweater down the curl of her belly bared hips
bare legs folding in a squat before Torvald naked one of her
hands on his hip the other the root of his cock. Bend over, baby,
says Vanessa. Don't stay down there. Get your little pussy up
here where I can reach it.

One hand braced on the counter edge now little finger brushing
Torvald's wrist Addison straightens her legs. This doesn't mean,
she says, glaring up at him.

Go on, he says. His eyes on Vanessa. Standing there one hand on
Addison's hip before her the other holding the long blue dong
between her breasts the tip of it still glistening brushes her
chin. Her eyes on him as Addison opens her mouth about the head
of his cock.

Well? says Vanessa. Taking her hand from Addison's hip unbuckled
garters swinging to wrench aside the smokey lace of her g-string
baring her smooth bald cunt.

Not, says Torvald, not bad, as Addison's tongue licks around the
head. Her lips mime a bite at it. Hey, he says, grabbing her head
with his hands.

That's it, says Vanessa. Addison's hips jerk back towards Vanessa
yearning. The blue dong now between Vanessa's thighs her eyes
still on Torvald watching her cant her hips forward and up
spreading the pale lips of her cunt with the fingers of her other
hand. Fuck her mouth, says Vanessa.

Addison both hands braced on the counter now pushing back but
Torvald's hands on her head hold her in place her yell choked her
eyes squeezed shut as Torvald slides his cock deeper into her
mouth and deeper. Pulls it out. The blue dong pointing at the
floor sliding into Vanessa's cunt hissing a breath in as she
reaches out and lays her hand on Torvald's hands on Addison's
head. That's it. That's it, baby. Let him fuck your mouth. Go on.
Go on. Addison eyes still squeezed shut rocking back and forth in
Torvald's grip her hand on his belly rippled as he bends over her
fingers digging nails into his skin there leaving little red moon
slices. Gah, says Torvald. Oh. Come on, says Vanessa. Teeth, says
Torvald, ow, teeth, baby, says Vanessa, stop it, baby, just let
him. Just let him. Mom likes what she sees. Oh. The blue dong
within her now, a deep breath. Mom likes what she sees, baby.
You're the sexy best. Vanessa both hands on the blue dong
dangling from her like some absurdly long cock twists the vertex
of its lazy V there between her thighs and it begins to buzz.
Vanessa tossing her hair back takes a shuddering breath. One hand
on the dong still buried within her lifting the free end the
other on Addison's hips, Addison's hips straining yearning back
legs spreading as Vanessa runs a thumb peeling open the outer
lips of Addison's cunt there in the dark the free tip of the
buzzing blue dong sliding along the length of her cunt weeping in
the shadows. Addison moans around her mouthful of Torvald's cock
pumping faster now, faster.

Torvald looking up to see Vanessa half-smiling her eyes dark in
the shadows of her face looking back at him. I, he says.

On her face, says Vanessa. Hand firm on Addison's hips bucking
pulling the buzzing dong away as Addison shoves back against
Torvald's belly, oof. His cock popping out of her mouth
glistening. He will not, she says, as Vanessa's hand grabs her
head as Torvald's hand grabs her head his other hand around his
spit-slick cock pumping once, twice. I will not, snaps Addison,
straining against them both as Torvald comes.

There isn't much. For a moment no one moves as they all stand
there - Vanessa bent over Addison the blue dong buzzing still
from her cunt its lazy V between Addison's spread thighs, Addison
still bent at the waist her hands still braced on the counter to
either side of Torvald's hips her head held down about his cock a
pale second moonstone of come oozing from the tip, Torvald
leaning back now looking up blowing a deep breath out of his
mouth and taking another in, his chest and belly shifting filling
with air. He lets go of Addison's head. Vanessa takes a step
back. Addison swallows and straightens up. Looks straight at
Torvald expressionless. A smudge of Torvald's come like a thick
tear in the corner of one eye glistening down the side of her
nose as she lifts her hand to her face Vanessa says No. Don't,
baby.

Addison drops her hand and turns.

Vanessa eyes half-open dreamy beckons with one hand the other
holding the buzzing blue dong upright between her legs. Addison
swarms at Vanessa staggering her back arm wrapping around her to
smack into the refrigerator knocking it back a bottle toppling at
the edge leaning over and falling to smash on the floor beside
them Vanessa licking the come from Addison's face Addison jerking
her hips lifting one bare foot braced against the cabinet as her
hand and Vanessa's hand work the other end of the blue dong into
her, inside. Addison throwing back her head deep jagged breaths
oh God oh God oh fuck come on baby, says Vanessa, her eyes
closed, her hand working that bunched-up V of electric blue into
both of them now, come on baby, as Addison shrieks fuck fuck oh!

Torvald after a moment stoops to pick up the towel. His empty
glass. The two of them sinking to their knees Vanessa down on her
back as Addison straddling over her scissoring thighs jackknifing
knees already gulping air for another long low moan the dong
buzzing, buzzing, Vanessa pulling Addison down bare legs twining
for a starving kiss.

What took you so long? says Jackson.

You wouldn't, says Torvald, stepping into the room. Blinking.
Draping the towel in front of him. You wouldn't believe me if I
told you. Setting the glass down on the long computer table so he
could wrap the towel about his hips. Lying on top of the blanket
in a tight cropped yellow T-shirt and little black boxer briefs
beside Jackson naked under the blanket is Alexandra with a white
laptop on her belly. Jackson looking up through his glasses from
the pen scratching on the notepad frowns. You can drop the
modesty, Torvald. She's seen a cock before.

Alexandra giggles.

Torvald turns. Lets the towel drop. Picks up the glass of water
and drinks half of it. Shrugs with one eyebrow and goes to the
other side of the bed.

Are you sleeping here tonight, Sandy? says Jackson.

If that's okay, Daddy, says Alexandra, scooting up as Torvald
throws back the blanket. Kicking her legs under the blanket as he
climbs into bed. On the screen of her laptop one of those
terribly sweet Japanese cartoons, two naked feminine boys one
embracing the other from behind in a storm of roses and
jewel-colored hair.

Lights out, kids, says Jackson, setting his notepad aside as
Alexandra shuts the laptop. Torvald reaches over to the
nightstand on his side and turns off the lamp there and stops his
hand still on the switch. Turns to look back over his shoulder at
Alexandra looking at him past her Jackson rolling over his back
to them settling on his pillow. Alexandra both hands under the
blanket pulled up to her shoulders mimes a shh at Torvald
settling on his back still looking straight at her. I just, he
starts to say, quietly, I won't, but she shakes his head. At the
base of Torvald's belly the blanket pulled up almost to his chest
rises a little and lowers again. Rises a little there and lowers
again. Alexandra bites her lip, looking at that patch of blanket
that rises again her shoulder working a little with it and
lowers.

Torvald sighs and puts both hands behind his head as Alexandra
lays her cheek on his chest breathing with the blanket that rises
a little and lowers again. He closes his eyes. He smiles.

                                                  ::
                                                  
                                            as falls cuyahoga,
                                      so falls cuyahoga falls
                                             an object lesson.011
                                                 
                                                          --n.
                                                  ::
                                                  
http://www.asstr.org/~nickurfe/
http://www.ruthiesclub.com/

This story may be freely circulated by anyone, anytime, anywhere.

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