The Fermata

14

TOWARD THE MIDDLE OF SEPTEMBER, MARIAN’S SEXUAL INTEREST inexplicably abated. She put all her dildi and appliances in the drawer that had once held David’s sweaters. The last two toys she had ordered — a tiny vibe, teasingly canine in appearance but molded from an impeccably comme il faut piece of pickled okra, and a giant Armande Klockhammer Signature Model — she didn’t even bother to try out before putting them in storage. She felt a mild snobbish contempt for people who devoted so much of their free time to solo sex-play. Her perennial garden, for example, was far more satisfying than a bunch of pastless, futureless orgasms. She read bulb catalogs avidly. After much study she ordered several hundred tulip bulbs from Mack’s. When they arrived, via UPS, she gently deflected the eagerly scrotal leer of her friend John in the brown truck. It felt exciting and strange to be more than a sexual being, to have interests. As she looked over the boxes of bulbs, however, she realized that she would need help cutting the beds and planting them all, so she hired the neighbor kid, Kevin.

Ever since she had been mowing her own lawn, she had lost touch with young Kevin. He seemed to have grown an inch or two. He had gone out for the high jump, and he had acquired a girlfriend named Sylvie, whom he said was “a really special person.” For a whole weekend and three cool late afternoons he and Marian worked together preparing the soil in the beds with bags of peat and then setting in the bulbs. The dirt was cool through Marian’s gloves. After shyly asking whether she would mind, Kevin brought over his radio. At first she was a little irritated by the sound, which disturbed her bucolic alpha-state — but over time several of the songs separated themselves from the others. In one, a woman sang something about Solitude standing in the doorway. She sang, “Her palm is split with a flower with a flame.” Marian kept time to this song, first with her troweling, and then with her chin. When she had heard it the second time, she asked Kevin (feeling a little shy herself), “Who does this song?”

Kevin looked up. “Suzanne Vega.”

“Ah,” said Marian. “I like it.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty good,” said Kevin. He was impossible to read. He dropped another dark bulb in a hole and gently mounded soil around it. Marian glanced at him several times. He had a gray track-and-field T-shirt over a gray sweatshirt. When he pushed on the earth over one of her bulbs, she imagined the muscle in the side of his arm, as she had seen it when he had had his shirt off that day, long ago, at the beginning of summer, before she had learned to mow. And later, when the song came on again, he looked up at her and smiled and then went back to planting — and Marian noticed that his ears were quite red.

She watered the bulbs in and forgot about them. The ground began to look cold — three long beds of very cold bulbs. As winter hit, Marian became caught up in a battle with a developer who wanted to build another mall outside of town. It was going to be enormous and in its own way wonderful — but there was already a shopping center with a discount chain in it that was working under chapter eleven, and the downtown would suffer, as it always did. She went out on several dates with a man she met at the mall meetings, and while she enjoyed talking to him (he was one of those men who have a passionate interest in some particular writer which at first seems sincere, and then finally ends up seeming almost arbitrary — in his case it was Rilke: he seemed to be getting things from Rilke that he could have gotten from any number of poets, while missing whatever it was that Rilke had uniquely), she nonetheless didn’t want to do anything more than kiss him cordially in her driveway.

When spring finally came, she went out every day to her tulip beds to watch for activity. It was an unusually dry hot spring, and she felt that she should water to give her beds a good start, but she despaired at her hose. The faucet still leaked tiresomely. The sprayer was rusty. What would make her bulbs really happy, it suddenly occurred to her, was if she could get a plumber to adapt her own Pollenex showerhead so that it would fit on the end of the hose. She needed a very light, very delicate but insistent spray for her tulips — no garden sprayer could offer that. She also thought that the hose water was much too cold — she felt that the bulbs would do better with warmer water. She realized that she wasn’t thinking all that rationally, but her idea nonetheless was: hook up the garden hose to the shower-pipe, run the hose out the bathroom window, and fix the Pollenex showerhead onto the terminal end. Other ideas of interest followed on this one; she called a plumber.

The plumber was a thin derisive man with the usual plumber body-smell who rolled his eyes at her plan, told her she could have done it herself, but agreed, since he was there, to do it for her. He fitted the hose ends and the Pollenex with Gardena quick-clamp adapters so that they could be quickly reconfigured for interior showering or exterior gardening applications. The shower-pipe looked exotic when he was done, knobbed with hex nuts and adapters, but the system when tested worked quite well. And the plumber, as he cleaned up, was cheerful, pleased by now that he had built something he had never built before, and that he would be able to tell his partner about the nutty job this lady had gotten him to do. He even showed her how to use Teflon tape and was expansive about its merits over older kinds of sealant. He carried his heavy red toolbox out to his truck and drove away.

Over the next few days Marian took her early-morning shower and then opened the window, hooked up the shower-hose arrangement, and turned on the taps to water her tulips. She used only the fine pulse-mist settings, treating her plants as she would want to be treated herself. The tulips responded with enthusiasm — after a week her beds were popping with color. They knew the difference between water from a shower, meant for human use, and water from a crude leaky outdoor faucet. She sat on an aluminum chair with the sun on her legs, reading The Machine in the Garden. Every so often she glanced up at her tulips. She felt happy. She had planned this to happen and it had happened: she had delayed gratification and now she was getting the payoff. Young Kevin should see what they had done together, she thought, but when she called, Kevin’s sour mother told her that he was at practice. Just as well, just as well, she thought. She began to give some consideration to her drawerful of dildae. But she didn’t need any of that; no, she’d moved beyond that.

Just then Kevin’s little gray cat with white paws showed up on her lawn, making untoward noises and acting oddly. Quite recently it, she, had been a kitten. Now she was clearly in heat, probably for the first time — and very irresponsible it was of Kevin or Kevin’s mother not to have had her fixed! She crawled along with her forepaws very low on the ground, making low desperate mezzo-mewings, her tail jerking back, her little narrow feline hips flaunting and twitching in the air, her rear paws working with quick tiptoe steps. Marian could see her gray-furred opening; wetness gleamed from within. She went over and pressed her finger lightly against the cat’s tiny slit; gratefully, the cat returned the pressure and tiptoed ardently in place. This was a cat in the grip of a new idea. Wiping her finger on the grass, Marian found that she had gotten hot looking at this creature’s fluttery haunchings. There was a purity and seriousness to the cat’s simple wish to be fucked immediately that Marian found refreshing. The cat didn’t want love — it wanted cat-cock.

Marian was not a committed zoophile, though — at least she didn’t think of herself as one. True, she and her best friend in sixth grade had made her friend’s black Labrador shoot two quick clear squirts of come once by gently squeezing his dense buried bulb as he lay on his back with his legs open and his eyes half closed, but one swallow doesn’t make a summer. Marian was a fan of human cock, for better or worse. (Dogdick did still have a certain appeal to her, in part because when it emerged it had a clitoral, almost hermaphroditic quality: something bisexual in her was triggered by the sight of it.) Mentally she again reviewed her dildos — how could she have (one or two late nights excepted) snubbed them all winter? The idea of running herself a bath, and then straddling the cold edge of the tub so that all her weight was on the soft place between her vadge and her ass, began to seem attractive. She could take one of the middle-sized dildi and swish it around in the bathwater and shake it off, so that it waggled obscenely, and stick it down on the edge of the tub and squirt Astroglide all over it. She could arrange herself over it, supporting herself with her hands on the edge of the tub, looking down past her hanging breasts at the slick dildo as it slowly disappeared into her sex-hair and found its thick way up inside her. She went inside to do just this, but by the time she had actually drawn the bath and gotten into it, she was much too aroused to do tame things in her bathroom. She got out and dried off and slipped on a dress. She had a new plan. She wanted to have a full-fledged Betty Dodsonian PC-muscled clasm outside in honor of her tulip garden.

She went out in her bare feet, scouting a location. Kevin’s cat had disappeared. After some pacing and gazing, she picked a place between two of the tulip beds, near where she had seen Kevin’s ears get red when they had talked about the “Solitude stands in the doorway” song. The problem was, what could she use as a stable base to affix her dildos to? The grass blades would be a ticklish irritant. Back inside, she tried a rectangular black lacquer tray in the kitchen, but it had a raised edge that, when she put it on a chair and experimentally sat down on it, hurt her butt. She considered a Thanksgiving serving platter but didn’t like the idea of its breaking; she pondered a small plastic plate left over from a premium frozen dinner, but it wasn’t heavy enough. Finally she went into her dining room and took the tea service off of her grandmother’s brass tray. The tea service itself was undistinguished, but the tray was a Viennese beauty, chased with circles of bouquets and thick-scaled fish and pine-cones and mythical panthery creatures in high relief. In the middle was a very stylized sun — it looked like a fried egg — and this proved to be the perfect surface on which to fix a dildo’s suction cup.

The famed male dancer at the Golden Banana, Armande Klockhammer, Jr., had only once in his distinguished career consented to have a lost-wax mold made of the trilogy-in-flesh that had opened so many doors for him. Along the underside of the slightly upcurved and alarmingly lifelike high-grade silicone cock-stalk, Armande’s own signature, taken directly from the licensing contract, ran, in such a way that the two bas-relief m’s of his surname appeared right over what would have been, had this been his actual dick, its most sensitive part. Marian arranged her virgin Armande Klockhammer Signature Model, along with many of its veteran colleagues, on a linen napkin unfolded on her brass tray and bore them out into the garden. She put the tray down in the thick grass in the chosen spot, leaving room on either side for her to plant her feet. There was a slight haze in the sky, so that it was sunny, but not uncomfortably so. When she moved the napkin aside, the light glinted on the tray’s ancient pattern, and, once she had squirted copious Astroglide over its head, on the surface of her chosen dildo as well — which looked opulently nasty poking up from that heirloom.

Then, playing hard-to-get now that she knew she had Armande where she wanted him, she went for a blithe little walk. She was wearing a jumper printed with big loose flowers and nothing underneath. She went to her mailbox, checked that the mail had been delivered, but left it in there. She nodded to a bicyclist going by — he was wearing a kind of skin-tight black cycling shorts that she normally didn’t like, but now she didn’t mind seeing his thigh definition. She stood at the end of her driveway for several minutes with her arms crossed, breathing deep breaths of spring air and feeling peaceful and content, or playing at looking like the woman out in the garden breathing deeply and feeling content, while actually part of her was thinking over what dildic wickedness was waiting for her in her back yard. On her way back, she bent and felt a leaf of one of the peonies in the tractor tire in her front yard, very casually, giving the road the chance to appreciate her shape under her dress, and murmured to herself, “Hmm, I think it may be time to do some watering.” She went in and got the water temperature just right in her shower, and then drew the hose into the bathroom window and hooked it to the shower spigot. Outside, she turned the stopcock on (the plumber had fixed it so that she could turn the flow of water on and off at the end of the hose) and toured her side yard, sending a frolicsome misty spray from her mobile water-source over the grass and over the mock-orange leaves. She hummed “Private Dancer.” She heard a truck drive past on the road.

When she rounded the back of the house, she surprised a deer who had wandered by, drawn by the tasty-looking tulip blossoms. It appeared to be licking the pink head of the Armande Klockhammer with its equally pink tongue. “Now, now, enough of that!” Marian called, and the deer sprang away. She glanced around to verify that she was indeed in private, and put her foot up on her lawn chair and hiked up her jumper, holding it in a one-handed bunch just below her breasts, and directed the crown of water-jets on her clit-site. The water was just right. “Oh, nice,” she said, watching the flow disappear into the grass. The idea that she could carry her daily shower around with her, outside, pleased her quite a lot. She dropped her dress and began watering again, working up the nodding tulip beds. Her maraschino tingled. She pretended to notice for the first time something alien and fleshy sticking up, pinkly out of place in the general verdancy beyond the near bed of tulips. “What’s this now?” She pointed the shower-water at it (making sure to rinse away any deer saliva). “What’s this sex organ doing sticking straight up in my garden? Does it need something to fuck?” She pulled up her dress. “Is this what Armande wants?” Again she pointed the showerhead up between her legs, now turning it to PULSE. Big dick-shaped bullets of water thumped against the skin surrounding her clit-pearl, against her vadge, and, as she rocked her hips, tickled against the poor-relation sensitivities of her asshole. “Oh man,” she said, loving it. “Listen you, if you liked that Bambi-tongue, you’re going to love my hot little box.” The dildo was unresponsive. She walked closer, confronting it. “Oh? So you’re not sure? You’re not even sure you want to be in my hot little ass? You’re shy? Well, I’m sorry, you have no choice now — you’re going to have to fuck me in the ass.” She took the bottle of Astroglide from her jumper-pocket and slid it between her cheeks and squirted herself with it until it trickled down her leg. Then she put her feet on either side of the brass tray and slowly squatted down until she felt the Klockhammer brushing against her butt-muscle. She directed the showerhead back on her clit. She didn’t care if her dress got soaked or not. Her thighs began to tremble with the effort of supporting herself over the dildismic pressure without sliding down on it. Finally she couldn’t help herself, and she opened her asshole to its big head and sat all the way down on it, until her cheeks touched the cold ornate metal of the tray. She rocked on the feeling of a hefty dickful of pleasure up her ass, adjusting to it. Her drenched dress hung over her thighs. She was fucking Armande Klockhammer’s autograph! God, it felt good.

“Hello?” came a voice. Marian looked up to see young Kevin and a girl standing hand in hand a little way off. She supposed the girl was Sylvie, Kevin’s new girlfriend. Kevin was looking recently showered, spruced up and proud of himself, though momentarily puzzled. Marian saw his eyes skip down over her exposed, wet legs. The two of them were wearing matching red-and-white-striped polo shirts. Marian made a quick attempt to pull her dress down and over some of the sex toys next to her. She began watering the tulips with little flips of the showerhead, as if she were conducting a Sousa march.

“Hi,” she said. “Pardon me, I was just doing a little watering. Come over. Let me turn this off. I had a plumber rig it up for me. Are you Sylvie?”

“Yes, hi,” said Sylvie. Sylvie leaned and shook Marian’s hand. She was a petite, perky, small-breasted girl with long light-brown hair and a pleasant sly sharp-nosed face. Marian liked her immediately.

Kevin said, “My mom told me you called, so we thought we’d come over and say hello.”

“I just wanted you to see all these tulips,” said Marian. “They turned out well, I think. Thank you for helping me with them.”

Kevin nodded. “I like the crinkly ones.” He turned to Sylvie. “Last fall I helped her plant all these.”

“They’re really really pretty,” Sylvie agreed. There was an awkward silence. From a distant part of the yard there came an odd hissing sound. Kevin’s gray cat appeared from behind one of the mock oranges. A huge golden chewn-eared stray was on top of her. Kevin’s cat crept forward a few inches and then stopped, and the gold cat, holding Kevin’s cat down and biting her neck quite hard, made tiny jerks of its hindquarters, holding its tail low and fluffed. The two animals, who didn’t seem to like each other much, stared at nothing at all while they fucked.

“Oh jeepers,” said Kevin.

“You really should have taken her to the vet, Kevin,” said Marian, though she said it gently.

“I was planning to.”

“I can take a kitten if there are some,” said Sylvie brightly, thinking ahead. “Maybe even two.”

Marian smiled at her. “That’s solved, then. Well!” It was time for them to be off. “I’m really glad you two dropped by. It’s very nice to meet you, Sylvie.”

“Nice to meet you. But can I ask you something?” said Sylvie. “What are all those?” She pointed to the sex toys laid out on the white linen napkin. Marian’s dress didn’t really hide them effectively.

“I don’t know that we should get into that,” said Marian.

“Okay, sorry,” said Sylvie. “I kind of know what they are anyway — I mean, it’s obvious, but I just want to know what you’re doing with them out here. Are you planning on burying them or planting them or something?”

Kevin’s ears were changing color. He was readjusting his notion of his employer. Sylvie just looked friendly and sly and curious.

Marian said, “No, I’m not burying them. I just thought it would be exciting to try out a few of them outdoors, and I wasn’t sure which ones I would want. It seemed like such a nice setting, my own back yard, with the new parrot tulips.”

“Can I look at one?” said Sylvie.

Marian passed her the most decorous dildo — a medium-sized clear Lucite thick-veined figurine that the catalog called the Ice Princess. Sylvie handled it carefully, using her fingertips, not, it seemed, out of repugnance, but out of politeness for another’s treasures.

“Sylvie,” said Kevin in an undertone. “I think she probably wants us to go.”

“She’s welcome to take a look if she wants,” said Marian casually. The Klockhammer deep in her ane was now beginning to reassert itself; it was silencing any objections she might otherwise have had to showing two teenagers wearing matching striped shirts her fuckable toys.

“Can I see that really long one, with the two ends?” said Sylvie.

“Ah yes — this is my Royal Welsh Fusilier. Here.”

“Wowsers!” Sylvie held the two dick-ends together, jerking on them so that the movable foreskins wrinkled and stretched in tandem. She offered one end to Kevin, who inspected it with fascination in spite of himself.

“I don’t exactly get why you would need something this long with two ends,” he said.

Marian hesitated. “Any number of reasons.”

“One of which is,” said Sylvie to Kevin, “if you misbehave with Karen in any way ever again, I’ll put one end right up your fanny and make you jump in your next meet with it in.”

“Karen is over,” said Kevin. Deferentially he thanked Marian, handing his end directly back to her. “Where did you purchase all these things?” he asked, with an air of serious inquiry.

“Oh, from a place in San Francisco,” said Marian. She was using every ounce of willpower she had to keep from announcing to the two of them that she had a massive dildungs-roman installed in her butt.

“Maybe sometime you could give us the address,” said Kevin, still very serious, very grown up. “We might want to order something or other. Right, Syl?”

“You never know,” said Sylvie.

Marian looked at them both and laughed happily. “God it’s nice to see young love,” she said. “Are you two lovers, then?”

They both nodded. “We’ve made love thirty-two times in two months,” said Sylvie proudly. “In fact,” she continued, putting a fond arm around Kevin’s waist, “we were just going out for a little ‘drive,’ because Kevin’s mother doesn’t like us going up to his room anymore — which I can understand.”

“Ah, a little ‘drive,’ ” said Marian. She looked at Kevin with amused surprise — the employer surprised at the precocity of the employee.

“Yeah,” Kevin agreed, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the road. “We’ll probably go on over to the fish hatchery.”

“Well, terrific,” Marian said. “Have a glorious glorious time, you two. I wish I could … I mean, I wish you well.” She shifted a little on the brass tray and felt the thick steadfast dilderstatesman issuing official pleasure-briefings down her legs and up to the warm unforgotten Fijis of her nipples. It was so fucking hard—so hard to keep from saying the things she wanted to say with it deep in there: she wanted to yank up her wet dress for them and say, “Go on and fuck each other silly! Take a good look at this monster cock jammed up my butt! I want you to look right at my asshole crammed with this big fat dick and then go out and fuck and suck each other and slam your bodies together!” Her skin prickled with the almost irresistible wish to be obscene. But all she said was, “I must say, I envy you both a little. I’m just sorry I can’t get up and see you off …”

Sylvie was immediately full of concern. She touched Marian lightly on the arm. “Are you okay? Can we help you up? You know your dress has gotten a little wet.”

“I know, I know,” said Marian, “I’ve been watering everywhere.”

“Everywhere?” said Sylvie. “Isn’t it kind of cold?”

“The water’s warm. It’s from my shower. Feel.” Marian turned the stopcock on and whisked the showerhead spray once over Sylvie’s outstretched hand.

“Feels really nice,” said Sylvie thoughtfully.

“The tulips love it,” said Marian. “In fact, will you two do me a favor and pick some for each other before you go? As my present to you? Pick the ones you like most. The Etruscan Prune variety is my favorite at the moment, but choose whichever ones you want.”

Sylvie and Kevin liked this idea a lot and set to work assembling reciprocal bouquets. Now that their eyes were off Marian, she was free to move on the tray again and make pleasure noises in a whispery undertone. She watched them circle her beds. She imagined them all breathless and loving and wide-eyed in a shady spot near the fish hatchery. They were beautiful — fit, healthy, incredibly young — so inexperienced that they thought that their two-digit courtship, or coitship, made them seasoned fuckers. She knew so much more than they did. She lifted the sodden hem of her dress just a little and pointed the showerhead between her legs and let it flood her twat-cleavage. “That’s not nearly enough, Kevin — pluck more!” she called gaily, wanting to risk his hearing the irrepressible vulval surges and catches in her voice.

When they stood in front of her again, holding their tulip bunches out to her for her admiration, she pronounced both arrangements equally lovely and told them to give them to each other. This they did with great ceremony.

“Thank you!” said Kevin to Sylvie.

“Thank you!” said Sylvie to Kevin.

They kissed. It appeared that their mouths were a good match. Marian, who normally felt squirmy and put off when she was a witness to heavy public pair-bonding, watched this particular kiss with nothing but good feeling. She was the public, after all. There was some tongue-action, but it had the license of youth and looked like it felt better than it looked. They hugged each other hard; Sylvie’s heel went behind Kevin’s and she used the leverage to press her blue-jeaned mound into him.

When they stopped, Marian said, “What a great kiss! You two are obviously great kissers. You must be beautiful when you … make love. Your bodies fit together so well. I wish I could—” She shook her head ruefully, her hand on her heart, and let them laugh at the impossibility of what she was thinking, so that they could start to get used to the idea. Then she slapped her hands on her legs and said, “I tell you what. If you would like to borrow any of these toys, feel free. Really. I don’t make any great claims for them — I’m sure you can do without them, but who knows, just for fun …”

They looked indecisive.

Marian exerted the slightest additional pressure. “Pick one — or a few, even.” She felt a trickle of sweat on her back.

“What do you think, Kevin?” said Sylvie.

Kevin shrugged. “Sure, I guess, yeah.”

Sylvie and Kevin knelt, not minding apparently that their knees got instantly soaked in the wet grass. Sylvie’s face, though averted, was very close to Marian’s. “Which one would you recommend?” the girl finally asked, having touched them all lightly.

“Mmm, well—” This was just too much for Marian. She felt her resistance give way completely. “My current favorite is one I just got,” she said. “It’s called the Armande Klockhammer. As you may know, Armande Klockhammer, Jr., is, or was, a male stripper at the Golden Banana. It’s kind of big, actually. Almost too big, depending on where you need it to go.”

“Which one is it?” Sylvie asked.

Marian cleared her throat. “I’m afraid I can’t show it to you right now.”

“Why not?” Sylvie looked at her with innocent curiosity.

“I just can’t.”

“But why?” Sylvie insisted. “Where is it?”

“It’s in use,” said Marian. She looked at her two young friends and then down at her wet dress.

Kevin looked surprised. He had finally pieced it together. “You mean that all the time we’ve been here it’s been …”

Marian took a deep breath. “Up my ass, yes.”

“Up your … It’s not in your … it’s in your …?” Sylvie, pointing to parts of herself to clarify her exclamation, looked genuinely surprised.

“It feels super, I must tell you,” said Marian. “But that’s not the crazy thing. The crazy thing is how badly I want to show it to you. While it’s in there, I mean. I’m doing everything I can to keep from hauling this dress up right now and leaning back and showing you how good it feels stuffed up my tight butt. Oh man! Just thinking about it gets me going. Are you repulsed?”

They continued to look a little surprised, but not repulsed.

Marian went on. “I’m afraid you caught me at a particular moment. Kevin, you can attest to the fact that I don’t normally talk this way.”

“She doesn’t at all, no,” Kevin agreed.

“It’s dildo talk, frankly,” Marian went on. “It’s the way I talk when I’m sitting on a big fat artificial dick. What can I say? My butt is stretched so damn tight right now — I wish you could see, I really do. I wish I could show you, and I wish when you saw it in my ass you’d take off all your clothes and make love for me right here. Is that so unthinkable? I don’t think it’s so unthinkable. Kevin, I was so good last summer. Do you realize that? I thought about your cock quite a number of times, I thought about sucking it and jerking it off — I even thought of putting a sprig of parsley in your tiny little cockhole, and yet I never once did anything! And now you’ve found Sylvie, this wonderful friendly open person, who probably sucks your cock beautifully, and it makes me feel so good that you’ve found her — it makes me want to see her suck on your cock. God, I wish I could show you what I have up my ass right now. It feels so fucking hot.” She paused. “See, that’s a sample of dildo talk.”

Sylvie was the first to speak. “You can show it to us,” she said. “We won’t mind.”

“Really?” said Marian. “Well, you take off all your clothes, then, both of you. I’m not going to show you anything until all your clothes are off. Take them off.”

Obediently Sylvie and Kevin took off their pants and underpants and pulled off their matching striped shirts. When the dangling and tugging and hopping had ceased and they stood naked in front of her, Marian couldn’t help whistling in amazement. Their bodies were so simple and perfect. Sylvie’s flattish slanting breasts, with sharp confident little suck-tips, were especially good for the soul. Kevin’s white straight penis lobbed and loitered below his tight brown balls; he had a Dennis-the-Menace touch of hair around each of his nipples. Marian had to turn the Pollenex on and point it up her dress in order to recover her seducer’s concentration.

“Now show us,” said Sylvie challengingly, conscious that her revealed beauty gave her power. She ran her fingers over her stomach and brushed the side of her hand casually against Kevin’s cock. “Show us what’s up your …”

“Ah, you’re such a beautiful couple,” said Marian. “You’re made to fuck each other. I’ll show you when it’s the right time. Right now, I need you to show me how pretty you are together. Show me how you like to suck cock, Sylvie honey. I want to see your pretty lips on that hot cockmeat. Kiss it for me.”

Sylvie, compelled by the conviction in Marian’s voice, knelt and kissed a path down Kevin’s cock until she came to its head, and then she opened her lips and let it fill her mouth. As he watched her and moaned, Kevin’s mouth mirrored Sylvie’s. He was standing with his hands crossed lightly at the wrists behind his back, his hips pushed forward, looking down at his girlfriend. As he firmed up, Sylvie’s jaw was forced open wider and her tongue was pushed down, and Marian was pleased to see her develop a cocksucker’s temporary double chin, which, because in reality the girl had nothing approaching a double chin, only made her face look younger and more captivatingly innocent.

“That’s so nice, so pretty, that pretty sucking,” said Marian, letting her showerhead do the talking for her. Areas of grass near her legs were getting a marshy gleam.

Sylvie turned and looked at her. Her eyes were dreamy with confused arousal. “Please show me and Kev what you have up your fanny,” she said again. She added rhetorical weight to her request by stroking three times on Kevin’s cock.

Marian pulled her dress up so that it was very high on her thighs, but not so high that anything was revealed. She lifted her weight onto her hands for a moment and then swiveled her hips. “It’s all slicked up with lubricant. It feels so snazzy in there. I want it in there always. I want to show it to you as it fucks my butt, but I need some inspiration. I need to see your cute little asshole first, Sylvie. That’s only fair. Squat right over my feet — I want to see your beautiful back and your open ass and your hot little asshole while you suck your boyfriend’s cock.”

“But—” said Sylvie.

“You know you want to show me everything about your body. You’re not ashamed of anything, are you? You’re proud of your body. You know you want me to look right at your ass while you suck that luscious dick. Don’t you?”

“Yes,” said Sylvie. “I want you to watch me sucking on Kevin.” She planted her feet on either side of Marian’s ankles and squatted, her back to the older woman. Marian twisted the showerhead to PULSE and aimed the spray in circles over Sylvie’s ass globes.

“Pull your cheeks apart — I can’t quite see you, and I need to see you,” said Marian. Sylvie got two handfuls of her ass and pulled up, and Marian saw the dark little dot where they met and joined. She pointed the water’s pulse straight at it. Sylvie arched her back to get a more direct hit; her breaths began to come harder and more irregularly through her nose. Her hair bobbed as her mouth emptied and filled with cock.

“That’s what I like to see,” said Marian. “Kevin, I wish you could see how beautiful Sylvie is when she sucks on your cock with her sexy ass all open and clean.” Kevin looked up at her as she said this, and Marian, as she continued to murmur encouragement, gave him a brief secret show, looking straight at him as she jogged her tits under her dress and pinched her nipples through the fabric. Her fingers were wet, so they left dark marks where they had been. Then, when she knew she had his allegiance, she said, “Kevin, do you mind if I tickle Sylvie’s pretty butt with the flowers she gave you? You want her to feel good while she sucks your big dick, don’t you?”

“Go ahead,” said Kevin thickly.

Marian leaned forward and brushed the tulip heads across Sylvie’s shoulders and down her back. She slapped them lightly back and forth on the insides of the girl’s fine thighs and up against her popped-out clit. “Ooo, she likes it,” she said. Then she turned the tulips in a circle over Sylvie’s asshole. “Do you like my flowers tickling your pretty butt? I bet you do.”

Sylvie said something affirmative and sucked some more. Then she stopped. She didn’t let go of Kevin’s shiny cock, but she said, “Could I use your bathroom for a second? I’m dying.”

“Sure,” said Marian. “But you don’t have to. Why lose time? Just let it go. I’ll spray it away. Piss it right out on my feet.”

“Pee on your feet?” Sylvie exclaimed. “No way! I can’t do that.”

“Of course you can,” Marian said. “What’s the harm? Just keep sucking that tasty dick and relax. When I have a big rubber dick up my asshole I like to see everything. I want to see it. I want to feel it spray out all over my feet — warm up these lonely toesies.” She played the showerhead spray insistently over Sylvie’s clim-folds. “Suck and push, honey,” she urged. “It’ll feel good, believe me. Arch your back so I can see.”

Sylvie resumed sucking Kevin’s cock.

“Push for me,” said Marian. “Push that piss out.” But nothing happened.

“I’m really sorry — I can’t,” said Sylvie. “I’m a little shy about that in front of Kev.”

“Ah, I see. Kevin? You don’t mind, do you? Of course not. In fact, you know what? I’d love to see a little dribble of piss come out of that big friendly cock. I bet that would help Sylvie relax.” Marian moved one of her feet out where Kevin could see it. “Let her hold your cock and jerk on it a little and then point it straight at my feet and push and let go. I bet you can do it.”

“Really?” said Kevin. He held his dick for Sylvie to aim it.

“Of course!” said Marian.

“Okay,” he said. Sylvie gripped the base of his cock and Kevin’s stomach muscles tightened and he pressed his lips together and forced out a curve of hot piss that momentarily reached Marian’s foot.

“That’s the way!” said Marian. “How did it feel?”

“Felt good,” said Kevin. “Kind of burny.” He wiped the tip of his dick with his palm.

“Of course it did,” Marian said. “Now, Sylvie? You know how badly you need to let it go. You know what’s up my ass. How could you possibly be shy?” Again she tapped the flowers against Sylvie’s cunt. “Push and piss it out for me.”

Sylvie gave it a second try. She pushed very hard. After a moment, her tiny urethra opened and a clear spurt flared out. The flow stopped almost immediately.

“Good!” said Marian. “More!”

“But,” Sylvie objected, “I’m pushing so hard I’m afraid something else might happen.” She stood up. “I really need to use the bathroom — I’m not kidding.”

“Oh, but I want to see that, too,” said Marian. “I want to see everything you can do.”

“Gross, no way!” said Sylvie.

Kevin decided that it was time for him to intercede. “I really don’t think she can do that,” he said. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind at all if she did, but …”

Marian pulled off her dress in a quick motion. “Look at this dick up my ass.” She leaned back on her hands and lifted her knees back against her body. “See that butthole? See how nice and tight it is? Look at that tight skin. You can look for as long as you want. Look at me rock on it. Can you see it moving in and out? Foo, that’s nice! I like to see your eyes on it.” She looked at them both and shook her tits for them. “Now, Sylvie, it’s your turn. I’ve showed you, now you show me. Show me that tight little butt of yours again. See, I had no idea you were as full as I am. I want to see that ass open right up, just like mine is. Suck that cock of his and push it out for me. Once you do that, you’ll feel free to do anything that feels good, anything you want, and you’ll come extra hard, and that’s what I want — I want you to come extra hard, because you can be damn sure that’s what I’m going to do.”

“I really have to go,” said Sylvie. “I’m not kidding.”

“I know you do! Squat down just like you were and suck that cock. I’ll spray you clean, don’t worry. Pull up on your cheeks so I can see. Push and let it go.”

Sylvie took up her cocksucking squat. She started sucking more Kevin-dick, but faster than before. She pulled one of her cheeks open. Her asshole looked exactly the same — tiny, sexy. Then suddenly her piss gushed out everywhere.

“Ah, that’s it!” said Marian, frigging her clit. “Show me how you let it all go. Release it. That’s it. Let it all go. Feel it relax.” Marian whisked the linen napkin out from under her toys and held it at the ready. “Let that lovely butt open right up for me.”

Sylvie made a moan of warning. Her asshole domed out into a doughnut shape and began to open.

“Good!” said Marian. “Now stop! Tighten back up on it.”

Sylvie made a straining sound. Her hips rocked, and her asshole slowly closed.

Marian was frigging faster now. She let the spray drive into Sylvie’s ass. “That’s right, honey,” she coached. “Keep sucking that dick. I know you need to let it out. Push on it.”

“It’s really going to come out this time,” said Sylvie, somewhat frantically. “I can’t hold it.”

“I know you can’t hold it. I just want to see your ass open one more time. It’s so sexy to see it open up. Let it go. Push now. Give it to us. Come on, push.”

Sylvie moaned again. Her asshole domed and opened wider, and a big dark hard dickshape began to push its way straight out. Marian held the napkin underneath. “Oh yeah. Keep pushing baby. Push it all out.” She felt the weight drop in her hand and immediately folded the napkin over it and sprayed Sylvie clean. “Now we’re ready!” she said. “We’re ready to fuck, kids. Come on, Sylvie, get on your hands and knees over me. Open that cunt for Kevin’s cock. I want to see Kevin’s hard dick up your cunt while I pinch your nipples. Come on. I want to see some good hard fucking!”

But Sylvie didn’t obey immediately. She had rights now. She was free to do anything she wanted. Boldly she lifted one of Marian’s juggy tits and bent to slap it around with her tongue. Then, bringing her blond cunt-site close, she brushed Marian’s nipple-tip over her neglected clit. “Could you hold those tits tight and point them right at my pussy?” she requested, with the zeal of a convert. “I think I’ve got a little pee left over for them.” Sylvie pushed and let a brief spurt spray over Marian’s mildly surprised breasts. “Let me hose it off,” she said, and she took the showerhead from Marian and sprayed her mentor off.

“See?” said Marian, recovering quickly. “You can do anything now.”

“Yeah, and now I’m ready for some cock. I need to be fucked good, Kev. Give it to me good.”

She arranged herself on her elbows and knees over Marian’s legs. Marian grabbed the girl’s asscheeks and spread her open. Kevin got behind Sylvie; he stared at his girlfriend’s impish twat as if he’d never seen it before and pumped his dick in his fast fist. It was a handsome dick, no question; watching him, Marian felt she needed to hold that purple stanchion for herself at least once. “Sylvie?” she asked. “You won’t mind if I make sure your lover is good and stiff for you, will you?”

“No, just do it fast and get him in there!” said Sylvie, kissing her own bicep muscle. “Either that or shove one of those big dildo-dicks up my cunt and jerk him off onto my asshole. Your choice. But get something big up my cunt now!”

“I’ll get him nice and fat for your cunt,” said Marian. She surrounded Kevin’s cock with her right hand and registered its warmth and livingly resistant rigidity. It felt, she found herself observing, extremely realistic. She steered its head toward the opening of Sylvie’s pink slot and jerked its stem fairly hard in place a few times. “Feel the big head?” she said. “Wiggle a little for him. He’s almost ready.” She looked up at Kevin and mimed a licking mouth to show him how she would lick his dick if given the opportunity. He was aroused and slit-eyed, and, she noticed, he was gazing fixedly at her breasts.

“Could you please put him in now?” urged Sylvie.

“He’s going to push it in now,” Marian said, giving his dick a few last jerks. “Push that cock in her, baby,” She held his shaft for as long as she could until it disappeared into Sylvie’s cunt; Sylvie was very tight but equally wet, and the dick’s length slid in without bending.

“Oh, fuck, that’s good,” said Sylvie, sighing with relief. Immediately she and Kevin started slapping fast against each other.

“Oh yeah! I like to see that boy-dick slapping in there!” said Marian, turning the showerhead on her clit. “I can feel it in my cunt just looking at it! Yeah! My cunt is so empty and yours is so full of that sweet hot dickmeat!”

As they fucked, Sylvie focused on the dildos, which lay tumbled on the grass. The girl turned so that her face was close to Marian’s. Her hair was in her eyes. In an uneven whisper, she said, “I need one of those. Pick one and put it in my ass, will you? Please?”

Marian brushed the tulips down Sylvie’s back and tapped them against her asshole. Then she replaced the flowers with her middle finger, resting it lightly on the opening. “Is that where you want something? Right in there?”

“Oh,” moaned Sylvie, “I want what’s in your ass.”

“Honey, I’ve got something much better than that for you,” said Marian. “Kevin, look where my finger is. Isn’t that a pretty little asshole? Has your cock ever been in there?”

Kevin shook his head no. His hands were on Sylvie’s hips, and he was pushing with a circling motion of his hips, making gravelly grunts.

“I want to see that dick up that gorgeous little butt. That okay with you, Sylvie? You want your honey’s big burning dick up your ass? Believe me, it’ll feel good. You know you want it, don’t you.”

“Yeah I want it, I want it,” said Sylvie.

“You want it straight up your ass, don’t you,” Marian repeated.

“I need it up my ass,” Sylvie pleaded. “Kev, I need it up my ass!”

Marian grabbed the four-foot-long Welsh Fusilier and turned it on. She whispered to Sylvie, “Slide this up my cunt.” Sylvie fumblingly obliged. “That’s good. I want our slutty cunts to be connected while you get fucked up the ass for the first time,” Marian said. She handed her end of it to Kevin. “Pull out of her, baby. Push this in instead.” Kevin’s long glossy dick emerged from behind the horizon of Sylvie’s ass-curve and with evident reluctance he fed the end of the double-vibe where he had just been. Sylvie made a surprised shout and arched her back and started fucking against it.

As soon as Marian saw Kevin’s cock reappear, she knew she had to suck it. This was her one chance. “Oh, God, that’s a pretty cock,” she said. “I need a real dick in my mouth for a second, just for a second. Come over here for a second, baby. Sylvie, he needs to be super stiff for your tight little butt. You don’t mind if I get his dick good and stiff for you with my tongue, do you? I’m sorry, but I just have to suck on this dick.”

“Suck him!” said Sylvie. “Ooh, God, suck him stiff for me. Just hurry and get something big up my ass. I’m so hot for it.” She circled Marian’s clit with her end of the Fusilier, gazing at the base of the Klockhammer buried in the older woman’s ass. Marian, her mouth stuffed with purple cock, groaned and opened her legs for the pleasure. As Sylvie felt Kevin jabbing the other Welsh-head in and out of her own buzzing cunt-lips, she reached back and spread her asscheeks open and said, “That’s enough. Stop sucking my boyfriend’s dick and get it in my ass!”

Marian pulled her mouth off of Kevin’s dick. “Okay,sweetie, it’s ready for you.” She squirted lube on Sylvie’s asshole. The squirt bottle made rude noises, but nobody cared. She pulled Kevin into position by his cock and tapped the head of his dick on Sylvie’s now-sloppy asscrack, circling it over the opening. Then she pointed it and held it still. “Okay, push in slow, Kevin. Open up for him, Sylvie. He’s going in.”

“Push it in me! Fuck this ass!” cried Sylvie.

Marian held Kevin’s cockshaft while it began to drive slowly in. It bent a little as he put his weight behind it; then, as Sylvie relaxed for him, it straightened out and filled her.

“There he goes,” said Marian.

“Fuck me with that dick, oooooooo!” said Sylvie. Kevin began making very slow long strokes.

“That’s it, Kevin — fuck straight into her perfect ass — you’re getting it.” Marian took hold of the end of the vibrator in her cunt and started pulling it in and out in rhythm with Kevin’s steady dick-thrusts. Its length curved up and disappeared into Sylvie’s clim. She kissed Sylvie on the shoulder. “God, I like being connected to your sexy pussy, sweetie!” she said. Sylvie was looking straight ahead, taking little breaths as she pushed back on Kevin’s thickness. “You like him in your ass, don’t you?” Marian asked her.

“I like him to fuck me hard!” said Sylvie. “Fuck my hot ass, Kev. I’m getting closer to the smiley face!” She looked at Marian. “That’s what we say when we’re going to come soon,” she breathlessly explained.

Marian sprang into action. “Hold on, though — one last thing.” She picked up the little okra-sized dildo and slipped it over her middle finger and squirted some Astroglide on it. “Can I put this in Kevin’s ass?” she whispered. “I want to feel him fucking you when you come. Can I?”

Sylvie blew up on her bangs and nodded. “Just hurry.” Marian flicked the okra-dick over Sylvie’s nipples and then dragged it down Kevin’s ribs and slid around to the base of his back and gripped the near cheek of his ass, so that her four fingers were near his asshole.

“What are you doing?” Kevin said, freezing suddenly.

“I’m putting some okra up your ass so you won’t feel left out,” said Marian. “I want to help you fuck Sylvie. I want to feel you fucking her ass, and I want your asshole to feel you fucking her asshole. Don’t trouble yourself — just let it in and keep fucking.”

“Let her do it, Kev!” Sylvie called earnestly.

Kevin overcame his uncertainty and resumed his slow, deliberate ass-fucking. But now, each time he pulled out for the next thrust, Marian drove the okra-dick a little farther into his reluctant male hole. He seemed to like it more after a minute or two, and as he began to get his own butt in gear, Marian started urging and guiding his movements, making him go a little faster, getting him to angle his thrusts, the way she knew Sylvie wanted it. Every push he made made his high-jumper’s maximus-muscles bunch memorably under Marian’s cupping hand. “See how she likes it faster?” Marian said. “Fuck her like this.” She controlled his pumping torso with the okra-plug like a puppet-master and he said, “Oh, jeepers! Get it up there!”

“Pinch my nipples hard!” Sylvie ordered Marian in an urgent whisper. “I’m right at the smiley face,” she called to Kevin.

“Let’s get off together,” said Marian, pinching as she was told. “Come on. Come on, come on. Fuck her, Kevin! Shoot that come in her. Look at this cock up my butt, Sylvie. Come over me. Oh! Oh fuck!” She let go of Sylvie’s nipples and held the Welsh-head tight to her love-bean as her orgasm gathered the necessary signatures. The autographed Armande had been in her ass for so long that she felt the biggest climax of her life had to be well on its way. But she wasn’t quite ready for it. She pushed her breasts forward and said, “Suck my titbags for a second, Sylvie. Suck them hard, bite them, bite them. Oh shit! Now come for me. Come around that hot dickmeat.”

“Oh, God!” said Sylvie. She tried to suck Marian’s nipples but couldn’t concentrate on them and arched her neck, staring forward at the invisible pleasure in her head.

“That’s okay — come for me baby. She’s starting to come, Kevin! Shoot that hot juice up her ass for her! Fill her ass with that burning come!” Marian finger-fucked the okra-dick faster in and out of Kevin’s asshole, and he leaned forward to take it and then straightened up, lifting Sylvie by the hips right off the ground and pulling her back against his cock. “Now, Sylvie?” he said.

“Oh, fuck me good, Kev! Fill my fucking fanny!” Sylvie shouted, looking in Marian’s eyes and then down at her toy-filled fuckholes. “Harder! Oh, yes! Fuck me real good, darling! SHOOT THAT HOT DICK UP MY FANNY-HOLE! OH! OH!”

With an astonished expression, Kevin made one last long lurching shuddering push and started to come.

“OH YES!” said Sylvie, feeling Kevin’s cock empty ounce after ounce of boiling scream-cream into her ass. “AH! I’M COMIIINNNG!!!!!” As pagan pleasures wracked her body, she did indeed make a huge grimacing smiley face.

It was Marian’s turn now. She allowed the idea of Kevin’s squirting dick in Sylvie’s ass to merge with the sensation of Armande Klockhammer, Jr.’s in her own. She conjured up the sight of the dollar bills stuffed in his asscheeks as he danced with his back to the audience. She thought of the shouting women; the whomping music; the sight of him turning on the stage and tossing his heavy live meat around inside its black silk pouch as he looked out at all his women. All these memories were up her ass. She opened her eyes and said evenly, “Please watch me come, now, you two. Watch my asshole and cunt come around these huge horny cocks!” Then she threw herself back on the wet grass and lifted her legs and rested her feet on Sylvie’s back; she let them watch whatever they wanted while the brutish, hunky orgasm ennobled her body. “Oh nice … so nice … so nice …” she sighed as the clit-twitching ebbed.

When the three of them had recovered a little, Marian rinsed off Kevin’s softening cock and lifted herself off the Klockhammer and sprayed it fresh.

“Can we pick some more of your tulips sometime?” said Sylvie sweetly before she and Kevin, dressed once again in their matching outfits, left for the fish hatchery.

“Anytime you want,” said Marian. “I love young love.” Naked, replete, she put her toys and her abandoned book on the tray and went indoors. Over the next year, with Kevin and Sylvie’s weekend help weeding and planting and mowing, her back yard became the envy of her neighbors.