David E Balaam - Nothing Is Sacrosanct

Marcus eased me off his knee and swept me up in his arms. I instinctively put my arms around him to steady myself as he moved, with purpose, across the floor to the open staircase leading to the first floor. Rosa was following, but I saw Chas still standing in the lounge rubbing his crotch.

From the first floor, Marcus took a shorter flight of stairs leading straight into a large sparsely furnished room. It was lit with candles, and again, sweet incense perfumed the air. Instead of a bed, the floor was covered with four large mattresses adorned with rugs and cushions.

Each mattress was covered in a different coloured satin sheet; burgundy, matt black, cadmium yellow and Prussian green.

Marcus laid me down gently on the black bed, my head against a silk crimson pillow. “I will see you soon.” And he kissed my forehead and backed away, touching Rosa on the cheek as he left us alone.

“I thought . . . that is . . . he and . . . Chas . . . and you.”

Rosa knelt by my side, un-phased by my nervous stammering. “There are times when we don’t need men around us,” she said gleefully, unbuttoning her satin top, adding, “Have you ever had a massage?”

“No, never,” I replied, now feeling more anticipation than apprehension.

*

Downstairs, Marcus poured Chas another whisky. “So, how was Rosa?”

“Need you ask?” Charlie replied, smirking.

Marcus grinned at the answer. “She is always a pleasure. Cheers.” And the two men sipped the warm liquor. “You were getting hard again just now. Are you still aroused?”

Chas looked at Marcus not knowing how to answer truthfully. “Charlie, can I call you Charlie?” Marcus asked, seeing Charlie's apprehension.

“Yes, of course.”

“Charlie, you did not know what experiences you would encounter this evening when you accepted my invitation back here, did you.”

Chas shook his head ruefully. “No, of course not.”

“I realised you and Isabel were special. I saw something in you both that could be nurtured . . . could be cultivated perhaps. Notice I said both of you, not just Isabel. I also want you to appreciate new sensations and acquire experiences perhaps not yet known to you. Making love should always be special, but you do not need to be 'in love' to make love. Do you follow?” Marcus asked, seeing Chas was finding it hard to concentrate.

“Yes, I think so,” Charlie answered cautiously. “You want to have sex with both of us?”

Marcus shook his head. “No. Make love. Sex is just a word - it means nothing. Making love means so much more. It says you want to be intimate, caring, loving. Allowing both of you to give and take - not just take.”

Chas nodded as if he understood, but in truth, he really was not sure what Marcus was talking about.

*

Rosa stepped out of her satin pyjama trousers, leaving her in a pair of white laced pearl thongs. I stared at her sculptured pubic hair and the two strings of pearls connected to the front of her lace thong. As she turned I saw she had a most colourful and intricate tattoo of a unicorn adorning her back, which started at the shoulder blades and finished just above the base of her spine.

Rosa touched the pearls between her legs. “They are very . . . sensual,” she said, gently rubbing the two strands of pearls with her first and second finger. She knelt next to me. Her skin was warm and soft, and her breasts a perfect size and shape with dark brown nipples standing proud.

A small jewel decorated her belly-button. She ran a finger along my right leg, up across my wet knicker crease onto my navel, and came to rest on my lips.

“I can’t massage you with your clothes on,” she smiled and took hold of both my hands and pulled me up to a kneeling position in front of her. She reached behind me, her warm breath teasing the skin of my neck, and unzipped my dress. She skilfully lifted the dress from the hem and took it over my head, revealing my pallid breasts. On instinct, I cupped them – not knowing why. I was feeling both intrigued and uncertain at the same time. I knew what was happening, and I could still have left, but I stayed, and experienced something wonderful - something I could never have imagined would be so beautiful and fulfilling – with another woman.

“I've never had a massage,” I said, naively.

Rosa smiled. “Well, I could give you one - I am a trained masseur after all,” she said with some pride in her voice, “but tonight we will, how you say, cut to the chase.”

She knelt with one leg between my legs and gently eased me back onto the soft satin, placing my arms at my side. Her right knee pushed home into my pubic area, before lifting it onto my lower groin, swaying up and down, then left and right. I clutched the mattress with both hands, and arched my back, riding the passion that was washing through me.

Just when I thought I was about to come, she stopped, and leant over and kissed me. “Not yet,” she whispered, and took hold of either side of my knickers and pulled them off in one stroke. She parted my thighs. I did not resist.

Her manicured fingers moved deeper, gently caressing the inside of me in a rotating motion. The more I moaned the deeper she went. She then replaced her finger with her tongue, and I moaned even louder with the pleasure of this new experience – by a woman that is. Chas gave me oral once, but never like this – this was different – this was an artist’s brush-stroke, a poet’s sonnet, a woman’s touch.

Of course, I came prematurely, but that was only the first of three times over the course of the next hour, and I gradually learnt to control them with Rosa’s tuition. I, too, practised on her what I had learnt, and we kissed, cuddled and fucked - and it was bliss.

We lay, holding each other, drifting into a sublime dream world when Marcus and Chas appeared in the doorway, totally naked. “Are you ready for us yet?” Marcus asked, with a smile. Rosa untangled herself from our embrace, kissing me warmly on the lips. She stood and kissed Marcus, then, taking his hand, they walked to the other side of the room and knelt in front of each other on the dark green mattress. Chas sat next to me, and I leant over to kiss him. “What have you two been up to? I whispered.

“I’ll tell you later, but you must tell me what you two have been doing,” he smiled. I touched his thigh, then still looking into his eyes, took hold of his erect penis and massaged it, up and down. I half expected we were going to change partners again, and Marcus would have . . . well . . . had me, but he and Rosa made love before falling asleep in each other’s arms. I could not help looking in their direction when I was on top of Chas, seeing how good they were together in the shadows, how gentle they were with each other. I knew that night was going to change my perception of lovemaking and relationships forever and prayed it would be for the better.

We woke not knowing the time. The only daylight crept through the doorway from the landing window. All was quiet, and Marcus and Rosa were nowhere to be seen. “I smell coffee,” Chas muttered, face down on the mattress.

“Chas, look at me,” I said, shaking him. He half-turned. One eye open. “What?”

“What happened here . . . are you OK with it? I mean, now, after the event and all that, are we still OK?” I asked seriously.

Chas steadied himself on one elbow and cupped my face in this hand. “It was an unusual nightcap, I’ll give him that,” he said, trying to make light of it, and kissed me. “Are you asking if we are still OK, Bell? I am if you are. I think we put it down to a most unusual and memorable evening. I certainly learnt a lot about myself.”

“Me, too.” I agreed, a little more casually, taking his hand. “It didn’t seem . . . bad . . . it always felt good, as if it was planned in some way. Did you get that feeling, Chas?”