My Polyamorous Girl

Should I Marry The Polyamorous Girl?

Chapter 4 -- Fuck That Long Weekend!

An exhausting anniversary celebration of our first year.

Thanksgiving day was a day with my family, and we ended up at my mother's house for a big Thanksgiving feast.

"You know what's going to happen," I snarked as we got in the car for the drive over. Every time we get together with my family, they're going to ask me why we're not married yet, and they'll ask you separately why we're not married yet, and then they'll compare our answers for a gotcha."

"The easy response I'll give them is that I'm a dirty slut who likes to fuck three different men and a woman every day," she laughed. "They won't ask again after that!"

"Well, every relationship has it's quirks," I grinned.

"I give them the same answer every time -- I'm a free spirit and don't want to get tied down to obligations."

"That's not so different than 'the dirty slut' answer," I chuckled.

Tethys became serious for a moment. "I know on some level you're afraid that I'm going to fall into a 'loose lips sink ships' type of confession, because I'm always so open and explicit with you about who I'm fucking and when and how and why. That's not something you'll ever have to worry about, Taylor. Just because we don't have secrets between us doesn't mean we can't have shared secrets. Our sex life is nobody's business except ours and the people we have sex with."

"You haven't revealed anything sensitive yet, so I feel like I can trust you," I responded. "It doesn't upset me, in fact on some level it thrills me a little, but I'm still not really used to how direct and casual you are about discussing your sexuality. Sometimes I cringe instinctively because you don't use 'socially acceptable' euphemisms, you just come right out and chat like it's every day conversation about how you're fucking me or Carl or Henri or Sonia, and about cocks and cunts and cum drinking and all that good pornographic stuff. I mean, it's kind of cool how boldly obscene and lewd and nasty you talk, I love it. I'm just glad you don't talk like that to my conservative and fragile-eared family."

"I know my audience," Tethys smiled. "For people that are not part of our sex life, the priority is to be discrete. Except in an environment like Hippie Hollow where I love to show off my fucking and sucking capabilities to naked strangers! But then again, it's still a matter of context. For you and Carl and Henri and Sonia, being one hundred percent explicitly honest, with no room for diplomatic ambiguity is an ethical choice that I made consciously. In fact, I made it the night I finally admitted to myself I was actually polyamorous, before that date where I opened up to you about it. Until that moment, I hadn't even used the term to describe myself, I didn't even consider whether it applied to me. When I realized I wanted to have a deep emotional relationship that I could share with both you and Carl, it was kind of frightening, but it was also liberating. I wanted to be able to flaunt my sexuality and not suppress it, and you and Carl have allowed me to do that. And you know what? It's fun to be able to talk like a filthy whore without being judged for it. It's kind of a turn-on, actually."

I laughed, "So you're an

ethical

filthy whore!"

"You laugh now, but you have no idea what's on my bookshelf, do you?"

"All I've noticed is art books and a few novels."

"I got a new one a few months ago. It's literally titled

The Ethical Slut.

It deals with how honest you have to be to handle the partners you're involved with when you're polyamorous or just promiscuous. Honestly, it gets a little sanctimonious in places, but it's kind of refreshing to know you can be ethically immoral."

"Ethically immoral," I mused. "I never thought of there being a distinction, but I like where I think you're going with this."

"It was kind of a sudden revelation as I was reading it," she agreed. "Then as I thought about it more I realized it applies to everything we can classify as right or wrong."

"Everything?"

She was warming to the topic now. "Part of it is how you define the ideas. It makes the most sense to me to think of morality as the behaviors and attitudes and beliefs that a particular society considers desirable. Since cultures are different, moral standards differ between them. But ethics is not rooted so much in culture but in our human identity, our sense of sympathy and empathy. In its way, it transcends culture. Which means ethics transcends morality. You might be in a position where you have to choose between them, and for me, that means ethics takes priority over morality."

"What an interesting take," I encouraged her to continue. "You can do some deep analysis that way."

"Exactly!" she enthused. "It's very useful. For example, I was thinking about the Aztecs of ancient Mexico. They had such a high civilization, a sophisticated priesthood, even religious handbooks. Everything I've read indicates that they had a well-developed sense of morality, and they could explain it and teach it on a philosophical level. But as human beings, to cut the beating hearts out of thousands of people based on a superstitious religious belief can't possibly be ethical. So here's a huge contradiction between morality and ethics."

I was impressed. Not only could Tethys blow my cock, she could blow my mind as well. I felt lucky to be exposed to both her body and her mind. Sharing her sexuality with whoever she chose was a small price to pay in return.

Thanksgiving with the family turned out well, the men enjoyed the football games, the women enjoyed their girl talk, the kids enjoyed vying for our attention, and of course we all enjoyed the turkey dinner. No major bombs were dropped, no major scandals were revealed, and no major embarrassments ensued. Even the political discussions remained even-keeled, unlike so many others I'd heard about. The next day and night, Black Friday, Tethys and I stayed at home, spending a quiet evening celebrating the first anniversary of our chance meeting in the mall.

"Quiet", is of course a subjective concept. It's one way to describe the most extensive night and day and night of sex I had ever spent in my life up to that point. Getting back to my place on Thursday night, we threw off our clothes, brushed our teeth, and jumped in the shower. What followed was essentially thirty hours of fucking, sucking, licking, caressing, orgasming, groaning, moaning, laughing, gasping, panting... with a little necessary eating, sleeping, pissing, pooping, and additional showering thrown in as breaks in the action. And then we did it all again.

Tethys didn't consider herself a foreplay kind of girl, she was actually kind of off and on with it. It's probably more accurate to say she was an

afterplay

type of girl. When she was horny she wanted to fuck first, and once she'd taken the edge off of her desperation, she settled down and got into slow sensual touches and tastes. That was lucky for me on that day, because it gave me at least a little recovery time. As it was, by the time Saturday morning rolled up, and she headed off to Carl's for her sloppy seconds adventure, I was more than ready to donate her to him.

I was usually good for two ejaculations on a good day, and I could do three if I'd had a no-jizz day prior. From Thursday night until Saturday morning I counted five, and then I was useless for the next day and night, and not just sexually. I could barely get out of bed, and when Tethys texted me a video of her and Carl fucking on Saturday morning, and then again Saturday evening, all I could do was hang my head and moan "better him than me!"

For anyone who thinks these tales of Tethys are exaggerated for the sake of erotic fiction, I can certainly understand the suspicion. And sometimes I wish that were true. Every man fantasizes about having a sexually insatiable woman, especially men who's general experience is women with libidos much lower than their own. The truth for most, is that those perma-passionate babes just don't exist. They're marketing memes manufactured by advertising agencies and porn producers. For those very few who actually do stumble upon such a woman... be careful what you wish for.

It began easily enough, Tethys and I had a rewarding shower together during which I shaved her pussy thoroughly and she responded with an enthusiastic, intense, but not to completion blow job. Shaving her pussy never took long because she wouldn't let it grow out much at all. She loved it smooth, and hated even the hint of stubble. She called it "sandpaper pussy." When not with me or with Carl, she shaved it herself, but she preferred one of us to do it because she always worried that she'd miss a hair. I could guarantee her completely smooth results, and I enjoyed it as much as she did.

After the shower and the shave, she was naturally lubricated as well as any outside concoction could ever have provided. We cheerfully dried each other and dashed to bed, where I started off as the aggressive one. I shoved her backwards onto the mattress cover, and almost before she could complete a full, laughing bounce I'd grabbed her legs and draped them over my shoulders, leaning over her so that the opening of her cunt was pointed almost straight up in the air. I hesitated at the opening of her pussy just long enough to confirm that there was enough slippery liquid accumulated to thoroughly coat my wide cock, and then plunged it quickly into her. She cried out in joy, and the cries turned to grunts as I unceremoniously pounded her with all the energy my abs and glutes could muster.

One thing Tethys often did that completely thrilled me was how she stared at me as I fucked her. She might talk dirty or she might not, she might moan and squeal or yelp, or laugh, or she might not, but whatever else she did she fixed her eyes on me with a glare that might even look angry to one who didn't know her better, and the closer she got to orgasm the fiercer that stare became. When she'd finally cum, she became incoherent, blabbering intensely but incomprehensibly, while those eyes, even in mid orgasm, remained fixed on me, entrapping, enveloping me as completely as her tight muscular tunnel, and pulling me into her world of utter immersive lust.

"Thrust, baby! Thrust! Deep, deep deep!" she was almost whispering as I was giving her all I had, but she ended in imperative yelling. "Fill me! Wide cock, wide shaft! So beautiful! You beautiful fucker! Your cock is beautiful, Taylor. I want to stare at it when it's not inside me. I want you naked all the time so I can see it. I always want to see it. I want you to show it to me. Display it for me. Let me study it. Let me examine it. Let me love it. Let me feel it slamming into my fucking cunt! Pound me you mother fucker! Goddam it! Fuck me like an animal! Slam it home, baby! Want more! More! Fuck!"

Sometimes I found her porn prose more amusing than erotic, especially, and maybe conversely, when it got especially creative. I'd been known to giggle when she really got into it, but that reaction of mine never bothered her, because either way it had the desired effect on my balls and prostrate, and all those other cooperating glands that have to conspire to fill her with the love that flows from me. I often laughed and spewed at almost the same moment. So whether it was intensely erotic or absurdly slapstick, it all ended up the same.

That night my fantasies were aligning with hers, and the words were powerfully grabbing my desires. I could see and feel her getting closer, and she gave me one last command while she still had her wits about her.

"Look at me when I cum, you fucker! Watch my eyes while I scream! Don't fucking blink. Look in my fucking eyes!"

And then the scream came, long, drawn out, wailing and repeating twice more. She never shut her eyes. She held me trapped in her spell the entire time, staring at me, glaring at me, even while the wails slowly faded to gasps, then to pants, then to sighs. I slowed my thrusting to match her breathing, but kept the strokes long and deep.

Only after she had half caught her breath did she blink, and smile. "That was beautiful, Taylor. You are so fucking good. So fucking sexy! I could do this all night!"

That's what I was worried about.

"Keep fucking me exactly the way you're doing now, slow and deep, while I catch my breath. You gonna be ready to go again? Did you feel me gush all over your cock?"

Oh, I'd felt it. I smiled and nodded. It was now dripping off of my balls, and smearing onto Tethys' inner thighs. I would have heard the gushing sounds too, had they not been overwhelmed by her vocals.

We went through a couple more cycles of her orgasmic passion, and each time she kept her eyes open and focused on mine through the screams, the words, the tears, and the laughter. (Another thing I love about Tethys is the unpredictable gamut of emotional responses she displays during her orgasms. She may cum three or four or more times during a session, but no two are ever quite exactly alike. Yet she still manages to keep her eyes open.) I had pretty good control from the start, and it had gotten better since I'd been seeing her, but at the moment it was starting to feel seriously challenged. Her legs were no longer draped over my shoulders, but wrapped around my waist and pressing down on my lower back. Our faces were closer together, and we could kiss intermittently between strokes. Tethys could sense my oncoming orgasm as well as I could sense hers.

"Keep your eyes open when you cum. Stare at my face while your cock shoots those big sloppy hot creamy jets deep inside me. Fill my fucking cunt, overflow me, and watch me feel you cum. I'm going to feel your cock twitch inside me, I'm going to feel that hot gushing semen, and it's going to make me cum right along with you. Keep your fucking eyes open. Look at me! I want to watch your eyes while you cum! I want you to watch my eyes while I cum with you. We'll cum together, we'll see what we feel. Fuck me with your eyes! Fuck, Oh, fuck!"

It was all I could do, but I did it. It was amazing. It wasn't the first time we'd cum like this, not by a long shot, and it wouldn't be the last. But then, and since, there had never been anyone who had made my orgasms feel as explosive and immersive as that Tethys woman. It was my first orgasm of the night, and as much of me as it drained, it might easily have been the last one of my life.

Tethys smiled. It was a big, broad, victory smile. For some reason, her breathing recovered faster than mine. I lay embedded within her for what seemed forever, and we kissed long and deeply, and repeatedly. I was sure my smile was as big as hers.

She spread her legs and pushed me back. I pulled out of her and stood beside the bed. "Feed me!" she ordered, and scooted closer to the edge to give my dripping cock access. I moved it to her face, and she enthusiastically sucked it into her mouth. She rolled it around, licking, kissing, sucking some more, and when it was reasonably clean and tongue-scrubbed, she grabbed it at the base with her free hand, and lifted it upwards so that her lips could reach the still-sloppy scrotum. She was nothing if not thorough.

At the same time, she was dipping the fingers of her other hand into her seeping vagina, pulling out creamy globs on her finger tips and bringing them into her mouth to suck clean.

"I know you're not the biggest fan of your own cum, poor Taylor, otherwise I'd be getting you to lick me clean. But it's your loss. I keep telling you how delicious your cum is, and now I get to be the one eating it, not you."

"I lick you clean sometimes," I argued weakly.

"Only when I ask, and you never act like it's the best tasting snack on the planet, which it is. I have to feed it to someone who appreciates it, and that's me."

She gave me a sly look.

"Sonia appreciates it. She laps Henri's cum right out of this cunt, and she loves it. She loves Henri's cum anyway, but she said it tastes even better when mine gives it extra flavor. I'll bet she'd like yours, too. Maybe someday she'll lick your cum out of my cunt. And maybe someday I'll lick your cum out of her cunt. Would you like that?"

It was one of the fastest erections I'd ever re-acquired. I was still in awe of the video I'd seen of their threesome, and I'd watched it several times already, twice with Tethys and at least once alone. Sonia was, to say the least, in every way admirable.

Although my erection was back, my energy levels weren't quite there, but Tethys wasn't one to let a little thing like that stop her. We cuddled and pillow talked for a while, we kissed each other in lots of places, and yes I did eat her pussy clean again, which wasn't so difficult now that she had already wiped away most of my jism, and much of the remainder was diluted by her still-flowing juices. I could still taste it, but as Sonia had said, mixing it with Tethys made it infinitely better.

When Tethys was ready to go again, she had me on my back, my flight deck facing downward over my belly, but being pulled upward by the tightness of my erection, the pulses of internal blood flow easily visible. Tethys straddled me and mounted me, and sat on my hips, comfortably impaled. For a few delightful minutes, she moved silently on top of me, breathing and smiling, even closing her eyes occasionally, savoring the relaxed pleasure. Then she lowered herself onto my chest, resting her head on my shoulders while I gently reached down and squeezed her butt cheeks.

"Fuck me to sleep, Taylor. It's been a long, wonderful day, and you're what made it wonderful. Just keep your cock inside me, and move it slowly. Rock me to sleep, you make my cunt feel so full and safe and relaxed and loved. I need your cock in me, Taylor, even when I'm sleeping."

"Can you get the light?" I asked. The control was on the nightstand beside us. Without lifting her head, she reached over and grabbed the little device, and with a faint click we were in darkness. I felt the amazing sensation of her nipples pressed against my chest, her lips kissing my shoulder muscle, and her tongue occasionally licking my ear, and of the exquisite tightness of her pussy wrapped around my manhood, occasionally squeezing it with her powerful kegels. The smell of sexual fluids permeated my sinuses, the taste of her and my mixed cum still lingered on my tongue. Her breathing grew slow and calm, and her pulsing heartbeat slowed until both of us were in sync. My hands remained firmly grasping her ass cheeks, and my mind was empty of almost everything but joy. A thin driblet of drool slowly escaped from her half-open mouth and tickled on my shoulder. She was unaware of it, and I was honored by it. Inevitably during the night, my cock softened and slipped out of her, but by then we were both sleeping far too deeply, peacefully, and blissfully, to be aware of it.

Then it was Friday. Black Friday. Not an official holiday for me, but a pretty much expected vacation day. There was no way I was going to be at work, and Tethys and I planned to make the most of it. Our first anniversary, which meant by far the longest relationship I'd ever been in to this point. If I were to describe the events of the day, even just the sexual events of the day, in the same detail that I described the previous evening, Tolstoy would have felt like a quickie. Of course, the sexual events of the day were, for the most part,

all

the events of the day, except for the previously mentioned eating, drinking, pissing, pooping, showering, napping, and oh, a noontime run which we managed to get in.

Even that doesn't do it justice, since to a certain extent even the eating drinking, pissing, showering, and even running all carried their sexual overtones. At some point early in our relationship Tethys decided, as part of her fascination with my oddly shaped (beautiful to her) cock, she wanted to see how I used it to aim at the toilet when I pee. I told her that I pee like any other man, my cock is only misshapen when it's erect (It's not misshapen, it's beautiful, she rebutted), and I've used it perfectly well all my life, thank you very much. She was unmoved. I suspect that she would have wanted in on the action regardless of my penile features, and I hadn't asked her yet at that point, but I suspected she did the same thing with Carl (Update from the end of that conversation, I was right). First she watched me pee, very closely. I felt I was being drug tested. She observed how I held it, how I aimed it, and how I managed the stream. Then, of course, she wanted to aim it. I didn't want her to. She insisted.