We entrusted each
Other with our unloved selves.
Love’s arc descended,
And we extracted
Blood in proportion to each
Prior sweet caress
We entrusted each
Other with our unloved selves.
Love’s arc descended,
And we extracted
Blood in proportion to each
Prior sweet caress
I woke in agony; my guts clenching with terror. Panting, I felt the sheets, twisted and sweaty. Was my conscience awakening, after all this time?
I felt for Francesca in the dark. “Babe, can you wake up for a minute?” I found her shoulder and squeezed it gently. She murmured as I switched on the light.
“What is it, Hermie?” She brushed her hair out of her eyes. She was spooning the soundly sleeping Dove, her gorgeous twenty-year-old intern, who we had been sharing that night. Francesca is a well-regarded video artist, currently being exhibited at the MOMA. She is using the videos of our sexual adventures for a future project, designed to be sent into space. I look forward to being a posthumous porn star, with future aliens jerking off to my pasty ginger ass.
“I had the worst dream. Hellfire, laughing devils, I was being torn to shreds. I think I am feeling guilty. I never feel guilty. Was I wrong, fucking Carly like that?”
“Herman, you are a beautiful man who has had a terrible year. 2020 has been a drain. You have had so many overnights, double shifts, you get manic sometimes. Honestly? I think Tom and Carly were into the sex. I would have said something if I didn’t think so. You need to rest.”
She had a point. Tom and I are pulmonary/critical care physicians at a major metropolitan hospital center. COVID has been so exhausting, physically, mentally, emotionally. We had lost colleagues, friends, neighbors, and worked ourselves raw. I was not the best version of Herman Sherman, MD. “It’s usually fun and games, what we do. This feels different.”
“Wasn’t it something about the masks?” Dove offered, still half asleep. Dove was the daughter of one of my ICU nurses and a promising art major on scholarship to the best university in our region. Francesca had been the one to bring her into our lovemaking, first fucking her in the laundry room.
“It started with the mask disagreement. Lots of people have been eating during the conferences, and he went off on me in front of everyone. I get it; the masks are essential for stopping the virus. But I was twelve feet away from everyone, and those meeting go on forever. I was also really upset because I had to re-intubate someone who I had promised to get out of the hospital.”
Francesca stroked my hair. “You use sex as a weapon. We get that. Everyone has a kink. Like you always say, ‘if we’re all getting fucked, we might as well enjoy it.’”
I have found medicine so frustrating as a profession. Knowing the exact right answer still meant little compared to the weight of human depravity and limited resources. Francesca got me into sadomasochism to allow me to express that anger in a self-contained manner. In lucid moments, I know I’m a narcissist and suspect I’m a sociopath. That said, I am trying to make it all work. There must be a balance.”
“Sometimes I think I want a war. I want an enemy to fight. Medicine is unsatisfying because you’re fighting someone who’s a victim, and there’s nothing to hit. It’s nobody’s fault, and I’m the one to picking up the pieces. We use manipulation to build up people’s egos and then pull the rug out from under them. We take advantage of their selfishness, loneliness, jealousy. We can fight and win without shedding a drop of blood.”
Dove yawned. “Herman, that video was totally hot. Francesca made me come three times while we were watching it. When you grabbed her by the neck and pulled her off your dick …” Dove bit her lip and moaned. I noticed the covers were rustling softly around Dove’s waist. I looked into Francesca’s eyes and grinned, then leaned over and kissed her on the mouth.
“You two, I’m turning over a new leaf. I’m not revenge fucking anymore. I want to reconnect with the intimacy and the sense of fun that I used to have. I spend way too much effort on mind games and manipulation.
“Babe, you really think they weren’t into it?” Francesca asked. Dove was quietly gasping now, likely finger fucked by Francesca under the covers. “You could always just call and apologize.” She nuzzled Dove’s ear, and bit it, gently, whispering “darling, my husband is preoccupied with his newfound guilt and he’s ignoring your sweet little pussy. Let’s help him find it, shall we?” She reached down and pulled the blanket away from the nude Dove in a single motion. Francesca had three fingers inside her, fucking her briskly. She slowed down, shifted her arms, reached between Dove’s thighs, and firmly spread her legs apart.
My mouth dropped open, watering. I had my boxers off to free my erect cock in an instant. I crawled over to them. “Dove, dear, your pussy is so tempting. But I’m afraid the woman of the house gets first dick.” The women giggled, and I put one hand down to test Francesca’s snatch. It was warm, wet, and open. I fit my cock into Francesca; after all these years, our privates know each other better than anyone. I grasped Dove by the waist, bringing her open pussy onto my lower abdomen and pubis, so that I was rubbing her clit and pussy as I fucked her boss.
Francesca was necking with Dove, and I stroked the young woman’s chest lightly as she undulated. There is something so beautiful about a woman loving another woman; I breathed and absorbed the vision. I could rub Dove’s crotch and watch the tremor of pleasure move through her. When it passed into Francesca, I felt her torque her pussy on my cock even harder.
I leaned down and suckled Dove’s small breasts, reddening and moistening them around their areolae. I gave Francesca a burst of power, fucking her harder and harder, and I pulled her tight to me, kissing her over Dove’s shoulder as the young woman was squeezed between us. When Dove was breathless from the pressure, and Francesca was breathless from the force. I slowed down and pulled out of her.
“You bastard,” Francesca smirked at me, knowing my next move. I picked up Dove by her pink flushed hips and entered her. She gasped and breathed deeply, her eyes wide. I fit a hand beneath her back and lifted her off Francesca, who luxuriously pulled herself up to a crouching position.
I laid Dove on the bed, and she obediently reached between Francesca’s thighs. Francesca situated herself, and Dove pulled her face into Francesca’s crotch. My wife grinned wickedly and licked her lips, and I pulled her in for a kiss as I began wildly fucking Dove.
Francesca and I made out passionately as she ground down into Dove’s lovely young face. Dove matched the strength of my thrusts, strength she’d developed in years with the women’s lacrosse team.
The triangle that we made with our mouths and hips was so harmonious and exquisite. I could not last long, but it was Francesca who came first, purring and then moaning, finally grasping me around the neck and screaming into my mouth as we kissed. I shot young Dove full of come.
Panting, I slid onto the bed beside the sweat and pussy-slick Dove. She kissed me softly as Francesca crawled down to the floor. She grasped Dove’s waist and roughly turned her hips. Dove responded by flipping over. Francesca delivered a few brisk spanks to her ass. “Get your mouth on my husband’s dick,” she ordered, my warrior woman.
Dove looked me in the eyes and took my wilted penis in her mouth, rousing my old soldier back for another adventure. I could see the crest of Francesca’s hairline behind Dove’s spread asscheeks, and I knew the slurping sounds I heard meant that my wife was sucking and swallowing my come from her intern’s pussy. Dove started to move her head and neck in rhythm to the slurps. I grasped her head and fucked her mouth and throat more forcefully. My cock was diamond hard.
Francesca stood and playfully smacked my hands away from Dove’s head, taking a handful of her thick hair to control the young woman’s cocksucking. With her other hand, she reached back and grabbed Dove’s crotch again. “Yeah, bitch, take it,” my wife grunted. Dove came hard, clenching and twisting her whole body. My cock loved every spasm of it.
When Dove was finished, Francesca rolled her off me, leaving me aching, twitching, needing release. Francesca stood over Dove’s nude form and crooked her finger, motioning for me. She slapped her ass and spread her asscheeks. I quickly was off the bed and behind Francesca, mounting and fucking her from behind with ferocious intensity.
Dove squeezed and kissed Francesca’s generous tits, basking in the attention she was getting. I grabbed Francesca by the wrists and pulled back as hard as I could, driving her face into Dove’s chest. She sucked on Dove’s tits and drove her ass back into me. Soon, I came again, releasing Francesca’s arms and spooning her on the bed as she clutched Dove. We were all tired, enjoying the glow of our closeness. I reached down, covered us with a blanket, and we fell asleep.
The next day, I was in my office, reviewing charts electronically ahead of morning rounds. I had a few minutes to spare, and called Tom. He was home on an admin day.
“Herman!” Tom cheerfully answered. “Great to hear from you! How’s life?”
“Tom, it’s great to hear your voice. Listen, I really don’t feel right about the other night. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. You didn’t deserve it. I know you’re phobic about germs, too. A few days before the dinner, I had a negative COVID test and a negative STD test. I had a vasectomy three years ago. I don’t blame you for being angry, but I had to talk to you.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone. “Herman, could I ask you to give me a call back in a few minutes on the video conference? I’d like to bring Carly into the conversation.”
I sighed and told him I would. I bit my lip and died inside as I waited to call back. I tried to check more clinical data, but the numbers and words didn’t mean anything to me. I logged into my conference app and called him exactly five minutes later.
Tom answered, seated at his dinner table, with a big shit eating grin on his face. Carly rested her chin on his shoulder. “Herman, like I said, I’m glad you called! I got to tell you, I’m new man! Carly and I are like teenagers again, always making out and touching each other. We had talked about swinging a few times, but we didn’t know where to start.”
“And the germphobia! I feel so much less anxious about it now. I can handwash once without repeating it. I went to the grocery store without getting a panic attack yesterday. This is the greatest gift you could have given me! My therapist says she wishes all her clients could get their wives banged in front of them!”
They seemed happy. My head was spinning. “You guys are sweet. But I don’t deserve it. How can I make it up to you?”
“Well, we have to do it again! I’ll stick to seltzer this time, you old dog,” he chuckled. “Carly, show him your love note.” Carly blushed and stood up. Tom repositioned the camera and moved back from the table.
The young wife addressed me. “Hi there, Herman. You look terrific.” She squeezed her breasts together under her long t-shirt, thrusting them into my view. Then she stepped back and bent at the waist. She slowly skimmed her fingers along her legs as she moved upward, raising her t-shirt over skimpy maroon panties, revealing a message scrawled in lipstick on her taut abdomen. I leaned forward to read the words ‘HERMAN’S COCK HERE’ with an arrow pointing down to her pussy.
My heart was racing. I was rock hard, of course. I croaked out, “Carly, you’re incredible. Listen, if you don’t hold me accountable, I’m not going to learn my lesson. You can’t reward my bad behavior.”
Carly sat back on Tom’s lap and they kissed over her shoulder, his hand under her shirt, squeezing her tit. She tilted her head toward the camera and said, “Herman, if you want to be punished, I can do that for you.”
I coughed. Goddamn. “You two are wonderful. I have to go.” I ended the call and stood up from my desk, willing my erection to lie back down. How was I supposed to be a better person now?
Read previous chapter at: https://www.literotica.com/s/a-dish-best-served-cold-5
You see this cock? This is your cock now. You are going to make it come harder and stronger than it ever has before.
Now your mouth is my mouth. Your cock, my mouth. Get it?
You have the most incredible smile. I love the way you smile. Open up your mouth as wide as you can. Come on, wider. Let me see. OK, I’m gonna stick my fingers in your mouth so you start getting used to what it feels like. Yeah, OK, you see how when I push down, you drool a lot? That’s the kind of pressure I’m talking about. I want you to be just salivating all over this thing like it’s the most delicious sausage you ever ate.
Start by kissing it on the side. That’s right, take it in your hands, kissing, lick it all over. Run your mouth back-and-forth on it. It’s nice, right? It’s soft and hard at the same time, velvet and smooth. Like the most incredible adventure you’ll ever enjoy.
Take the head, and roll your tongue around. That’s right. Grab it by the base, and just lap at it like it’s a popsicle. Good. Good.
Feel my balls with your hand, yeah, kiss them and rub them on your cheek. Take the skin and just hold it between your teeth, just a little bit. Nice.
All the way in. Slow and easy. Push me back with your mouth. Work your cheeks. I know you have more space in your throat. You can do a lot better than that. Push! Okay, you’re getting it.
Open up your blouse. Yeah. Let me see those tits. God, you’re beautiful.
Now I want you to come from your neck and bob up and down. Try to keep your head and neck straight, and then move from your chest. Use your shoulders if you need to. Yeah, that’s good.
You’ve got to be breathing through your nose. You don’t have your mouth to breathe with and I don’t want you to get overtired. Try to breathe and pump and breathe and pump.
Don’t be afraid to drool a lot. Just let it wash over it. It’s not gross, it’s not disgusting, it’s what I want. Yeah, get it all over your face, get it all over your tits. Yeah, try and use your whole body going around it, that’s right.
Keep up the motion, and reach down and start touching yourself. Yeah, I like to watch you. I think about you getting dirty, it makes me hot. Yeah, get yourself wet. Open up that little pussy and show me some pink. Pink is my favorite color.
Baby, I’m about to come, and I don’t want you to waste a single drop of it, right? You keep breathing and you keep swallowing. Here we go, here we go.
Slow down, slowly. Gentle. Just hold me in your mouth and try not to move.
OK, let me go and come on up here. That was magnificent!
When I hike her knees
Up around my waist, and the
Action spreads her sex
Wide before me, I know
That she is surrendered to
Me wholly, all mine.
When she breathes in gasps,
Ragged, and begs me not to stop,
Sinew in her frame,
And pulls me closer as if
To envelop me
And I drive with force
Unrelenting, touching the
Deepest spots within,
For a moment we
Create a larger body,
Her and I are one.
I can’t have been the only teenager who saw Fight Club in 1999 and wanted to go out and beat the shit out his friends, in hopes that we’d all feel a lot better and understand ourselves at the end of it.
Chuck Palahniuk’s novel and David Fincher’s film named a dynamic that I’m only now elucidating, with some help from Jung, Crowley, and Nietzsche: why do I crave both beauty and destruction? Why are my playlists a mixture of Mozart and Metallica? Why do I, a good hearted, Christian husband father and physician, sometimes seethe with rage and crave a storm to wash away all this filth? Is nothingness freedom, or is it nothing? Is love a prison?
Nietzsche said that God is an artist, not a moralist. His moods are wildly variable, and while supposedly changeless, He’s in fact endlessly changing, protean. Christian morality is inherently pessimistic, nihilist. It wants the end of the world, it wants there to be nothing, nobody left. A sterile, changeless void.
Certainly, you could argue that Christian morality as taught is untenable. When your thought is a crime, and you commit adultery when you look at a woman, when you are worthy of hellfire if you call your brother an idiot, it’s impossible to follow. The more you read the Bible, the more you realize how strange and subjective the text is. You read the Gospels, and they contradict themselves. Jesus is a son of David in Matthew, not a son of David in John. Jesus is crucified on a different day in Mark and John. The epistles are dense texts addressed to people we don’t know about topics we have to guess about. Revelations tells a compelling story referencing multiple symbolic systems that we don’t have in our current canonical texts.
If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him. This is a Buddhist aphorism that summarizes a meta-dynamic I’ve sensed for years is at play within the Bible. The God you can understand is not the real God. If you claim to speak for Jesus, you’re a liar. You’re blessed when you’re cursed. You’re rich when you’re poor.
Through the union of opposites, we annihilate them both and find the unity at the center. Nietzsche said that tragedy was the emergence of Apollonian reason through the catastrophe of Dionysian forces. I’d say this is a pretty fair summary of the narrative of the Bible. Morality occurs from what you learn by engaging in the text and with life, and picking up the pieces from the wreckage of your annihilated life. Kind of like Fight Club.
In my journeys have I happened upon
The Garden Unforgetful, thrice did I
Eat her fruit. When first I sampled, learned I
To trip the light fanatastick, no longer
Bound by gravity, the chains were loosed, danced
For the rain. All the overseers could
Not fix me to this earth, for of the sky
Was I born; return to my home did I.
Second fruit, spoke did I in my one true
Voice, as pure and strong, the leader for whom
World ached. With deep resonance I did
Intone, command, withdrew Excalibur.
The last fruit showed me witnesses, a cloud
Kindred, broken hearts, so lonely, lovely,
Awaiting healing and communion. More
Than a year since I visited garden
Green, yet I have found it grows in me, and
Its harvest will soon become my supper.
Her; articulate voice, now
Mouthing vowels of love
Her first juices are
Lovely; the second nectar
Is velvet new life.
My pelvis to hers
Creates a circuit from the
Sacrum to her heart
Through her throat into
My mouth, down my throat and to
My heart, sacrum and
Back into her, a
Your mother did not
Neglect you because you were
Wrong, she did because
You were the part of
Herself that she neglected.
You are the part of
Her that always knew
What was right, but suppressed it,
For the feelings of
Others. The pathos
And gratitude you see in
That photo is her
Embracing her truth.
Your parents sought to preserve
You by keeping their
Evil away. Lonely,
But insulated. The best
That they could offer.
After we finish,
She purrs, “your sweat tastes so
Fucking good to me.”