In the Nicers of Time

IN THE KNICKERS OF TIME CH.06: PRIMAVERA

By Norma Jane

1

In the mid-1908s, I met Edith, widowed after a long, loving partnership with Ailsa. As someone accustomed to regular sex, she was frustrated, and needing to grieve through 'the lovely feeling,' as she expressed it. I was able to help, and sought to extend her sexual education. A man ejaculated on her breasts, in the studio of Corinne, who had a side-line in painting erotic pictures. Edith's experience was next widened through love-making with Corinne and me. In Chapter 4, Edith met Cynthia, a transwoman who had never had sex, but who needed to lose her virginity with a virgin, which Edith technically was. They bonded at once and consummated the liaison. After which, fired up to frenzy, Cynthia needed to make use of Corinne and me, and the chapter ended with Edith and Cynthia leaving together in each other's knickers and me giving Corinne clitorylingus. In Chapter 5, however, first Edith and then Cynthia came to ask my advice, because Cynthia's priapic demands on Edith were causing strain in the loving relationship. I advised that a better balance in the active-passive roles should smooth the way. Whether this was effective is now the topic of the last instalment of their story.

2

Several weeks past and Corinne and I trusted the couple was happy and settled. She hoped, too, that they would be available for some intimate portraiture, because she was planning to depict them at the point of mutual orgasm, including every minute detail, though it was to be not simply erotic but moving and romantic.

Meantime she was exploiting the Arcadian, pastoral nymphs and shepherds theme, although in her large canvas it is shepherdesses, some trans, nymphs, some trans, and satyresses, all trans. I suspect this scene of prodigious coupling, set in a sunlit landscape of fields, woods and meandering streams will lead to a future fantasy by Norma Jane.

Eventually, there was a call from Edith and Cynthia, asking to come to discuss a special service they hoped we would undertake. And what they wanted was, in effect, for us to marry them. This was years before same-sex marriage was legalised, and, of course, unions involving transwomen are still legally problematic. But they wished to devise and move through their own ceremony, or 'enactment' would be better, because the concept was to move through the successive scenes so wonderfully portrayed in Botticelli's 'Primavera,' extending and adapting them after the manner of Corinne's pastiching other works of art. They also aspired to having Corinne paint their version of the great work. And since she was to participate in the enactment another artist would be needed to make the sketches for Corinne to work up. What follows is, therefore, an account of the event. But first I must give a little lecture on what is going on in that magnificent symbolical-allegorical painting. Which may readily be called on screen by any search engine for you to follow my elucidation.

It is a grand strip-cartoon, but with all the frames shown at once, and while superman and wonder woman begin their exploits in the leftmost box, Spring (Primavera) begins on the right. Where (1) Zephyrus (the Spring Wind) is fumbling the Nymph Chloris, causing her to issue flowers with her breath and become (2) Flora (Goddess of Spring), and she in turn scatters blossoms and blooms of the season at (3) Aphrodite (Goddess of Sex and Fecundity), attended by (4) the Three Graces, dancing in joyful celebration, in their diaphanous shifts. To the left stands (5) Hermes, representing the spiritual dimension of the succession of the seasons, being the Psychopompos, who conducts the souls of the dead to the afterlife. Overhead flies Blind Cupid, firing his dart at the Grace showing her bum.

The Graces are the subject of thousands of paintings and sculptures, usually depicted naked, hands or arms linked, dancing, bottoms and breasts akimbo.

This was, then, the story we were to act, and through the acting solemnise and celebrate the union of the loving couple.

3

It was a warm August day and Corinne and I prepared the studio, tidying away all painting equipment but one easel and sketching gear, sweeping and polishing the floor, then spreading it with as many carpets and blankets as we could muster, and throwing over them green sheets on which were stitched as many flowers cut from fabric as we had been able to make. We scoured out the adjacent shower cubicle. We laid ready on the couch, pushed to the wall, the costumes we would wear, and as we finished, the artist who would record the occasion, arrived. That she was Sandra, to copy Sandro (Botticelli), seemed appropriate, although she probably did not resemble the great Florentine artist, since she was six feet three inches tall and sinuously lean in build, with tumbling curls and ringlets of iron-grey hair.

Corinne and I rehearsed the postures and movements, the choreography, of the vernal ceremonial, thus briefing Sandra on the succession of images she would be recording. Then we took off our shoes, left them in the hall outside, partook of a light repast, as Sir Walter Scott would say, and awaited the arrival of the bridal pair. We were excited and eager, our romantic aspirations aroused, determined to imbue the occasion with meaning and love.

4

We heard Edith and Cynthia came in through the front door and leave their shoes in the hall. Then in they came, hand in hand, dressed, as planned and as Corinne and I were, in summer frocks, without underwear. The four of us crowded into the shower together and began our thorough ablutions. Each of us washed and rinsed the others, soaping all breasts, probing all crevices and cracks. The one foreskin was eased back and the organ gently laved. It did not erect, because that would have been premature, and despite all the handling of nipples and vulvas there was no arousal. We were too intent on fulfilling the marital mission.

We emerged to stand on the towels Sandra had laid down and dried each other off. Then we put on the costumes for the first tableau and took up our positions. Cynthia, in dark drapery, Zephyrus, or Zephyra, breasts exposed, her was holding onto Edith's, Chloris's left breast, beneath her arm, her body clearly exposed through the sheer muslin we had mocked up and lightly amped to cling. To her right I was posed as Flora, clad in flowery curtaining, and to my right stood Corinne in the nightdress we had engineered to fit her breasts as Aphrodite's are held in the Botticelli. Draped over her right arm and across her thighs and pudenda was a swathe of red material. We held the pose while Sandra sketched and then we varied it a little, for the fabric concealing Zephyra's lower body and thighs parted to show her half-hard cock forking at Chloris's left bum-cheek. This was obviously erotic, but it was as much aspirational as sexual, the Spring Wind instigating the metamorphosis of Nymph to Goddess.

It was time to move on. Edith, Cynthia and I came off the set to change into our Three Graces filmy nylon, as sheer as we could find, and move into our dance formation. It was my bottom that at this stage was on display, somewhat larger than the original. Corinne remained as before, posed with right hand raised in blessing. Again, Sandra's pencil captured our essence. Then Corinne moved away to change into the Hermes pose, the red material now his costume, gathered over his right shoulder and draped across his lower body and thighs, but open across the chest, magnificently bosomed. We held the postures while Sandra sketched, completing the first part of the operation. We were now to extend the allegory, to move through the sanction of the union to the consummation.

5

Corinne resumed her Aphrodite costume and her central position, while we Graces began to circle, so to first Edith's, then Cynthia's bottom held the central spot and our breasts began to be visible, and, as Sandra sketched, we became more explicitly naked and sexual. And at the agreed moment Aphrodite threw the red drapery over us, and as she swept it away again we whisked away each other's diaphanous covering and held the pose for Sandra to depict.

As we resumed our circling dance, Aphrodite moved into our midst and we stripped away her dress and all four huddled into a tight clinch for some moments, before the Goddess began to turn within the Graces' arms to run her hands across our bodies, holding our breasts, stroking out bottoms and kissing us in turn. And now we were becoming aroused, and it was interesting to notice that we were not only acting the arousal but feeling it. Aphrodite was reaching down under our bottoms and fingering into the two vulvas, and we were clamping our mouths onto her breasts and apparently imbibing increasing desire. Then Aphrodite broke the circle, so that Edith and I stepped aside and left Cynthia in Aphrodite's arms, and the Goddess turned her sideways and contemplated the now exposed penis. She sent a hand to hold and squeeze it and we watched it swell between her fingers.

There was no pausing now, as we had foreseen. Sandra would keep up as best she could.

Aphrodite drew Edith close, took her hand and laid it on Cynthia's full erection. Then she laid the hand on Edith's muff and slid her fingers down into the cleft. Edith shuddered and opened her legs for the whole hand to move beneath and feel for the opening. Aphrodite again turned Edith so her bottom faced Cynthia. Now my Grace became Aphrodite's aid, because I drew Cynthia close behind Edith and the Goddess raised her hand in blessing and Edith swayed forward and laid her head between the Goddess's breasts, so that she was bent at the waist, bottom ready for mounting. I moved her feet apart and then pressed Cynthia's bottom to bring her cock into Edith's crack. I moved the couple a little until I could slot the cock into the cunt, and Cynthia slid it smoothly home.

The whole sequence until now had been silent, but now the couple began to speak quietly. 'I love you, Cynthia. Come into me, darling, come and never stop.' 'I love you, Edith. Take me, take my essence, absorb me now and never stop.' Then Cynthia came with a little cry and Edith came similarly. Corinne and I inwardly rejoiced.

This was in every way the climax we had planned, but we were quite expecting further activity, improvisation and invention.

6

We were well aware that Cynthia was multi-orgasmic, and that she and Edith had developed a repertoire of love-making, so when they began to move again and took hold of Corinne and me we were ready for whatever they had in mind. But at that moment Sandra suddenly put down her sketch-pad, and pulled off her summer dress, revealing that she, too, was naked beneath it. Clearly the scenes she had so closely observed and recorded had aroused her, for she advanced towards us, saying, 'Oh, my dears, I just have to fuck someone or I'll go crazy. Can I have that lovely little cock, or is it reserved? If so, someone else will have to do me.'

We all gazed at in appreciation, and Edith and Cynthia with added interest, for Sandra's inner labia were unusually long, protruding several inches from the outer lips, forming something like curtains closed around her entrance. I should add that men and transwomen found that feature fascinating, because it meant that as they entered her the lips tended to be drawn into her vagina, and as they withdrew the labia followed, holding their shields to prolong the sense of being enclosed. Indeed, the labia clung round the glans, adding an extra sensation. This I knew from reports from those lucky enough to have had intercourse with her. Corinne and I had both enjoyed sex with her and I may write about that in due course.

Cynthia looked at Edith, who smiled and nodded, so Cynthia moved to meet Sandra., who at once lay down on her back and opened her legs. 'Go on in,' she said, 'I'm ready. Just go in and shoot. I love that.'

Cynthia knelt and moved between those long thighs. At the same time Edith knelt by Sandra, and said, 'I want to give her into you, and I want to feel her between your lips.'

'That sounds lovely,' Sandra said.

Corinne and I looked at each other and made a silent agreement, but we shortly found ourselves adapting our intention, because a group celebration followed, a fresh Goddess, Vulvabella (let us call her) calling upon Aphrodite and all the Graces.

Cynthia presented her glans to those glorious labial folds and Edith took the shaft behind it in hand and eased the cock-tip between the crinkly curtains, and as Cynthia edged forward the penis and the fingers holding it parted the drapes and the tip felt for the vagina. We all watched, fascinated, as if doubtful that the cock would find entry, and Sandra laughed. 'Oh, it's in there somewhere,' she said. 'Ah, yes, bullseye! She's lodged. Push on, darling, go in, and Edith, duckie, fold the flaps round her balls. Testicle-owners love that. It feels like they've got all their gear inside me.'

'Do you like it, too, Sandy?' Corinne asked.

'Surely do. It's like I've sucked them all the way in, as if when they come I'm squeezing their sperm out of them straight inside me.'

'Does that idea help you come?' I asked.

'Certainly does. Now, Edith, let go the cock and keep moving those lips about, all over the balls. Yes, that's good. And you other two, don't just watch. Get down here and do some squeezing, too. Don't come yet, Cynthy. Wait for me. Won't be long if those idle hands find some nippy and clitty work.'

Corinne and I knelt side by side against Sandra's right hip, and while Corinne attended to the nipples, now long and hard, I located the clitoris in the upper folds of the vulva. It, too, was long and hard and knew from past experience to rub around and pinch it, because it liked rough handling. As did the nipples, which Corinne was pulling at, rolling between her fingers and bending to nibble. She and I now fulfilled our design by giving each other a hand, that is to say reaching across each other to seek down into our damp muffs for the hopeful clits.

'Aha,' Sandra said, 'Looks like we're all on the way. Is the tide rising, my dears? Orgasamasms on the way? I thought so. Let Cyntha-Cynth call it. Oh, wait a minute, I think she's about to blow. A certain stiffening in the resolution.'

Cynthia had no need to comment, because Edith said, 'She's coming! She's coming!' And as I felt Corinne tense I hastily switched my hand to Edith's pussy to bring her along, too. Cynthia pushed in hard and keened in ecstasy. Sandra shuddered and shouted, 'Yes!' Corinne's bottom clenched and Edith made a little mewing sound. My own climax seemed to gather and then hesitate, as if needing one last prompt, and Sandra, alert to every element of this shared exaltation, reached her right hand up my thighs and homed in on the coy clitoris. Thus, all five of us, Goddesses and Graces, came together. A fitting conclusion to the occasion. Edith and Cynthia's union had been celebrated and consummated, and our revels now were ended.

EPILOGUE: Both Sandra's sketches and Corinne's colourful canvas derived from them, all nicely photographed, proved immensely popular amongst my clientele, and the original painting sold for a handsome sum to a wealthy connoisseur. While Edith and Cynthia sold up their abodes and bought a seaside villa in the South-West and lived happily ever after, and kept in touch, until they died in their eighties within a few days of each other. I know about this, because I received a letter from a solicitor, giving the news and enclosing a sealed envelope address to Corinne and me. Corinne had long since moved to a northern coastal town and was making a good living painting pictures of harbours and shipping. I went to stay with her, and we opened the envelope. Within was a photo, taken, we assumed by camera working on a timer. It showed the couple, naked on a beach soon after a summer dawn. They were clearly older, with short white hair and shrunken breasts, but clearly still fit and happy. Edith's legs were raised and parted and Cynthia knelt between them, cock in Edith's fingers and ejaculating onto Edith's now sparse pussy hairs. On the back is written: 'Love from Charmouth.' Corinne and I went straight to bed and caressed each other for a long time into valedictory orgasm.