Kilissa and Darryl

There are times I wonder how this happened. I might wonder if it had happened, though I have pictures to remind me that I was there and that it happened to me. These extended and grounded my memories — a cinemascape of nakedness, reflections and facial expressions. These in turn mixed with a story of the three of us gradually dropping our layers, our masks, our independence.

A couple — Kilissa and Darryl — approached me, via the female partner, and asked whether I was interested in having them visit. It was a bit strange how we met: I was hosting an online radio program, and Kilissa had called in; but the call dropped, or rather, I dropped the call accidentally. After the program, I looked up the number from the call log and took and chance and called her.

She said she was just writing to me. A few days later she wrote and asked of she and Darryl could come up to visit. I had a feeling I understood why, that is, what was motivating them. She explained it in an email — they’d had a lot of threesomes with other women, but none with another man. Daryl got to fuck some of her most beautiful friends and take part in their lesbian sex. She wanted to try being with another man, and I would get to be the one.

They arrived on a Friday. They were the “in love” types — inseparable and usually insufferable, full of drama and about to get married and all of that, but these two had something they wanted or maybe needed to do, with and for their coupledom.

I don’t know how soon we had our clothes off, or rather how soon they had theirs off and were inviting me. Maybe it was half an hour after we got back from the bus station and dinner. They just had to fuck. And per their instructions, I had to get naked when they did. There on the plush floor of Blue Studio, throwing open their emotions before me, they fucked like they needed to be seen doing it.

He slipped his big cock into her and played her from the inside. She in turn pulled up her knees, moaned and allowed her face to burst into expressions of receiving. Occasionally she would look into my eyes with those naked eyes of penetration and emotional surrender.

She never grew sated and he pumped her deeper into that. I breathed in the vision of what I’d so long been craving — in the presence of their fucking, I was within sight of a mirror. This I was, they knew it because they looked at me there, and at themselves and one another. Something unusual, a feeling or a shift of the light, occurred the moment we all made eye contact with one another, through our reflections. That space opened and it didn’t close. We understood then that we could be more honest with one another.

They were more comfortable with their reflections than I felt. So easygoing, they felt to one another…I felt my slight tension of ease, then I grabbed my eyes with my gaze, determined to show myself facing myself.

He fucked his cock into her as I slowly flooded with heat and relief. My cock sprung out from my body though I didn’t touch myself; my palms were pressed into the futon and I gazed at them and ten myself, slackjawed and breathing deeply. The sequence of events from then happened swiftly and in suspended movement – both.

She plunged into a new orgasmic depth that seemed to draw him with her, and he let go. I could see his balls and the base of his cock in her and he moaned in time with the throbs of his body. She received him. Then with his cock still spurting slightly he withdrew from her, revealing her vulva flooded with semen that was spilling out from her. I saw one cord of fresh milk spurt out of him and onto the bedding. Then I was confronted with the sight of her flooded cunt and from there gazed as she looked toward and then at me with her brown eyes expanded and her face free. Knees apart revealing this delightful spill and her eyes meeting mine.

I knew I needed to orgasm. I knew I was free to do so. I picked up a spattered mirror and held the glass toward them, so they could see what I had in my hands.

“Is that your semen?” he asked, just as I reached my tongue to the glass and licked a tan and yellowing crust, sucked off my tongue and with a mouth wet from saliva, leaned in and licked again.

“Mm hmm,” I said, tasting myself as animal salt, and I swallowed to make the sounds.

I felt something distinctly loving, which is I understood I was about to receive what I want. She lay there with her knees apart and her matted cunt dripping and soaked with her vulva water and full of his semen. Her hole, her crack, and the successive layers of lips that made up her full genitalia. Glancing at this I licked my own dried semen off thicker, moaning a little more than I might otherwise, that is, if alone.

Suddenly I was thirsty and she was water. This is something I’d never done – lick another man’s semen from the vagina of his lover. I could now if I wanted, and she could see the thirst on my face. He looked at me calmly, bemused, his prick starting to firm up again. I sucked off my tongue once more, and licked myself again; I placed the mirror on the floor and spread myself open and licked realizing I was not looking, then opening my eyes.

I knew what I eventually wanted. That’s why I could choose it; choose myself and my thirst for their elixir turned hot in my throat, and dry, and that was thirst. At that my orgasm burst out of me. The first spurt of my semen splashed onto a mirror I had picked up, and then I was taken by a second, deeper pulse of orgasm as I looked at them in disbelief. He lay reclined not far from the mirror, and this rocking utterly free release of my semen splashed in one hot gush all over his face.

I was not planning to do this: I wanted my cum on that mirror, all of it. He was not expecting this and he had no interest whatever in its occurrence. He was on his feet and running into the bathroom so fast I was stunned a second time in a short moment. Then she and I laughed spontaneously and tried to silence ourselves but…he has to have heard.

When he came back he tried to act like nothing had happened. Yet we all knew: I ejaculated on his face and he had become extremely embarrassed. We hung out for a while longer and then eventually I went back to my apartment, leaving them with my studio for the night.

In the morning my home phone rang, and it was them, inviting me to breakfast and additional adventures. I dressed and came back across town. We had breakfast, and then they suggested I get my camera and go on a walk with them and take some photos. I haven’t mentioned that — one purpose of the visit was to take photos.

After coffee they suggested we go on a walk; did I know any cool places? I am a collector; there was one a few paces down the street and around the corner, to a quiet residential street that happened to include the stage entrance to an old Vaudeville house, and also a side door.

This was off of a barely-traveled street; a driveway big enough for a truck led down a ramp to the cargo entrance and a few yards down, a place where several ancient doors stood, recessed into the wall. It looked like the architecture that you would see in a much larger city, somewhat out of place in a sleepy upstate town. The place was strewn with trash and weeds, which added to the intrigue. There is something about the back doors of theaters that draws me in; and these people were actors who spent much of their lives in theaters.

Before I knew what was happening, Darryl was slipping Kilissa out of her dress, and she stood in high heels and black undergarments. Then his long cock was out, and stretching her leg up around his waist, he fucked her against a door as her face melted. The ancient, cracked pink paint on the doors was reminiscent of another era, and I could feel how often that side door had been used, as if remembering the crowds of people pouring out of the building. As this happened, I photographed them: her thong pulled to the side as he pressed his mouth into her cunt, his hand clasping her waist, his hips thrusting into hers.

They put themselves back together and we wandered back to my studio to look at the photos. The afternoon had turned hot and bright. We stopped for coffee and then went upstairs and uploaded the images onto a computer with a big monitor, and saw the vivid images of them fucking nearly but not quite in pubic. This got them so hot that in just 15 minutes they were undressed again. I joined them on the big futons in front of the mirrors, and cradled her face as she dropped her knees apart and took his cock into her. I held her gaze as he fucked and fucked her and finally, let loose all of his emotion, roaring into her. I could almost feel the snug space of her cunt fill up with him.

Then she asked, “Do you want to fuck me?”

I was really enjoying what I was doing. The truth is I didn’t want to. But I felt stupid having such a beautiful, available, willing woman offering herself to me and not.

I said that I would. My cock was already hard. I reached for a condom and slipped it on. Daryl slipped off of her, and his semen spilled out of her vagina. She dropped her knees apart and opened her arms anticipating embrace, and opened her emotions and welcomed me as I slowly plunged into her hot feelings, into her yearning — fucking right into the emotional space within her where her lover had just been.

I relaxed into her and we did not move in that first moment — we held one another, and felt one another breathe, and my heart was racing. I felt us vibrate together and her willingness gradually became my own. Then she began trembling and as it happened I felt her slip into a pulsing wave of her own beauty, her own existence. Intuitively I lifted my face so I could look at her face and under my gaze she moaned and her expression melted. She overflowed and I sucked in her energy in a little stream through my cock, straining to drink her in, until a moment later a kind of membrane burst between us and I was vibrating and clutching her.

Her lover sat off to the side, naked on the futon as we did this, as she and I felt one another and bestowed the gift of mutual contact, of mutual freedom of self. He watched his lover get some of what she needed with honest desperation and acceptance.

Each time I would thrust into her and hold still, I would stir up her next release; it did not take much. She clung to me as she tumbled into each wave and ripple, and I filled up on her as she did. I flooded my feelings in her fountain of yin.

I know she wanted me to ejaculate into her, though after we settled into a gentle breathing pattern I gently withdrew myself and stripped off the condom as they both watched.

She nestled herself into Darryl’s body as he spooned behind her. He seemed relieved, and he clung to her and hid his face. I couldn’t blame him for this though I craved his eyes on me. I would not have that, not now, but I would have myself and I would have her presence and I knew he was aware what was happening. I was ready do expose my voice to all of us. I reached for a back framed mirror and I handed it to her. She held it out for me, to contemplate, to see, to see myself, which often comes with a feeling of reluctance. Now I had an opportunity to express myself and reveal myself and, since I had noting to hide, I felt my resistance and kind of played with it.

When I realized I was ashamed of what I was doing, I lubed a dildo and fucked my ass, looking at her face and moaning as if to say: this is what I’m doing, I’m fucking myself, and it’s okay because I just watched you fuck and I just fucked you and I can admit that I need this. I leaned over and raised my leg and fucked my asshole deeply, grunting in my raw feminine urge to be penetrated.

I pulled over a pillow so I could kneel in front of them and leaned over and I licked my hand and I masturbated freely. Then I remembered how they had made love, became aware that I was now making love, and I said, I’m making love. I was suddenly thirsty for my semen and I said I’m thirsty for my semen, looking into her eyes, and she smiled and she said so gently, then you should drink your semen. I leaned over and licked dry semen off of the mirror as she held it, which stoked my passion and my thirst.

I so desperately wanted him to see me do this. I craved the exquisite embarrassment of his knowing, and of their knowing that I could have, if I wanted, spurted my passion into the wet, full pool of her, without a condom, she had invited me to let myself go and this is something I had always wanted to do — but there was something I wanted more. I wanted to lose control in front of him and so I moaned.

I became aware of him listening, I became aware of the silence that surrounded us, silence that felt spacious and opened up into a space. First I felt welcome, then I felt reluctant, then I pumped the shaft of my cock harder and didn’t want the pleasure to end, pleasure that felt like a bulb of hot light gradually expanding inside me. I knew that eventually it would overflow and spill, whether I was ready or not. So I made myself ready by relaxing and looking into her eyes and saying, uh huhhh, uh huhhh, and she nodded and smiled and I raised myself up a little and arched my back and my asshole clutched the penetration.

I was aware she was aware of all of this, of my core filled up and my desire to expose myself and my desperate thirst and the hot ball of liquid that I was surrounding and playing with and I smiled and moaned and my water burst. I convulsed. She angled the mirror perfectly, catching every drop of my semen except for some that spilled onto her lovely hand. I grunted with each release and my pulses of my seed gradually gave way from urgency to relaxation, from convulsion to conscious release. I watched my spurts collect on the mirror and drip on her hand.

She did something I was not expecting which was to lick off her hand with a long, delicious stroke of her tongue and then I gave into my own thirst and lay on my belly and drank what I had just ejaculated, licked and drank and opened my eyes to see my expression as I accepted myself, the expression that was half-child and half-animal. My fresh semen dissolved the crust of dry semen, melting it into my mouth, and I licked the glass with the sensation of licking it to a smooth surface. As I sat up she held the mirror out to me so that I could see myself, and my face was love and fear, freedom and fear, shame and then the fulfillment that I was free from shame.

I felt sexual and womanly and I embraced my womanhood and looked at her with a reflection of that same sensation in her eyes and her mouth and her face. I took the mirror from her gently and held it in my hands and licked, having to consciously open my eyes, and licked the glass until I could see myself clearly and willingly and if what I was feeling was not love, it was a moment of freedom from self-judgment. And I was no longer thirsty. I was wet and full and fucked.

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