Chapter 23: A Bad Year
It was Sunday night, January 5, the last evening of the holidays. Today's Tribal Gathering had been pleasant, mellow, and relaxed. While the sex had been no less abundant and widespread than usual, there had been no sense of urgency. The intensity was down, although there was every bit as much affection and love as always. Everyone seemed relaxed and happy, almost satiated before they arrived. It may have been the sexual equivalent of offering a steak dinner immediately after a three-egg omelet breakfast. Over the holiday period, I think everyone in The Tribe had done more fucking than they ever had before, or at least, in the case of Joe and Joanne, for a very long time. Tethys and I agreed, at any rate, that we'd had more orgasms with a better distribution of partners than we could remember. The addition of Pete had been a factor in that, as had the length of the holiday season for me. I hadn't taken a full two weeks off without going anywhere in forever. It was possibly the least stressful period of time in my adult life.
The gathering had wrapped up rather early for the two of us tonight, as Megan had to leave to take the evening shift she'd traded off a few days before, and both Herakles and I had to restart a workweek tomorrow. Pete, Rick and Angela, being students, had a little more flexibility with their time, Henri's restaurant was closed on Mondays, Joe and Joanne were retired, Phoebe was a full-time housewife, Rena worked evenings during the week, and Tethys and Hera could set whatever schedules they damn well pleased. Fortunately, Tethys chose to go home with me. We'd showered and were cuddling in bed, not really tired, but not wanting to be busy with anything either.
That lack of business apparently didn't apply to my fingers and lips, as I began feeling very affectionate. Tethys wasn't normally real big on foreplay, at least not being on the receiving end. She'd always preferred straight-up fucking, and being an aggressive, oral, giver. She had a real love of both sucking cock and eating pussy in addition to being fucked, so foreplay for her was something she dished out, rather than received. But tonight, I wanted to be the oral giver. I'd gone down on several of the women during the course of the day, and found it pleasantly inspiring. I wanted the day to end with the taste of Tethys on my tongue. I started with gentle kisses on her forehead moving down the bridge of her nose, sliding off to her cheeks, and the centering back on her lips. She was unusually responsive, and as I kissed her face, my fingers explored the soft landscape from her breasts, sliding down her belly, stroking her slippery bare mons, to her even slipperier fleshy butterfly wings. The nub of her clit was expanded and sensitive, and she moaned into my mouth as the tips of our tongues flicked over one another.
With my non-genitally occupied hand, I reached up to gently embrace her scalp, and while massaging there, my face migrated downward, my lips inhaling, relishing, and exploring the sensitive skin of her neck, her throat, and the v-shaped notch at the joint of her clavicles. She sucked in her breath as my tongue explored down her chest, sliding over the contours of each breast, lingering deliciously over each nipple, taking it into my mouth and slowly releasing it. They were wonderfully firm and springy under my lips. The journey continued, my cheeks, still smoothly shaved, feeling the subtle topography of her abdominal musculature over her flat and powerful belly. I paused at her navel, dipping and swirling my tongue in the little pocket, bringing moans and giggles from her.
As I approached the core of her sacred hallows, the excitement in both of us grew and spread. I could smell the luscious aroma of arousal, hear the catch in her breath, and feel the quivering in her skin which somehow seemed in synchrony with my own. As my face glided smoothly towards that most desirable of flesh-altars, I was ready to make my most devoted offering, knowing that in no way would it be a sacrifice. I positioned myself where I could look directly into her juicy depths, gazed with awe for a few moments, and then presented my love offering, the tip of my tongue.
She bucked, squealed, giggled again, I responded by licking upward from the underside of her clit with the drooling flat side of my tongue. This elicited a more satisfied moan. My activity around her freely flowing pussy increased and diversified, with my tongue, lips, teeth, and even my nose brought into action. I took my time. How could I not? There was so much beauty, so much succulence, so much flavor, so much fragrance, and so many shared endorphins to experience. I stretched my arms over my head, reaching up to her breasts and nipples, massaging and tweaking them with my fingers while I licked, sucked, nibbled, and sipped the nectarous floral flesh that my face felt so much at home with. I tasted her special essence, as well as faint traces of mixed Pete, Rick, Henri, and myself. I wouldn't have been able to tell them apart, of course, I only knew which ones were there because I had watched, cheered, and taken part in their - and my -- ejaculations. Tethys sighed, squeaked, laughed, she howled, and even gurgled, past caring about anything but the overwhelming sensations of the moment. She actually farted once, which caused a short pause while I withdrew to find some oxygen, she emitted an "oops!" and we had a chance to reset our romantic mood and steel ourselves for the next round.
Most of her orgasms came from deep penetration and a particular rhythm and angle that she usually maneuvered by fucking on top. For her to be cumming repeatedly on her back, controlled and manipulated by oral mauling, was an infrequent and inspiring change of pace. It triggered an escalation of our lechery, and within a few moments I was on top of her, thrusting my wide flight deck into her heaving sea of depraved ecstasy. I forgot to be sensual and romantic, and simply pounded the fuck out of her while she screamed for more. When I squirted my hot goo into her equally hot cunt, it was as intense as any group sex I'd ever experienced. I couldn't help but take a panting moment to compare the pleasure I felt when there were several of us stimulating each other to the intensity of a one-on-one debauched delight with Tethys. I knew I needed both, and would never be able to completely enjoy the one without the other.
There was no need to clean up, our sweaty and leaking secretions were part of the lingering afterglow. We simply held each other in our arms for several long minutes, then drifted easily into a relaxed state of contemplation and appreciation of the day.
"That was a deep conversation you were having with Pete while you were riding him," I recalled. "I'm surprised he was able to stay hard inside you, considering the topic."
"I think he enjoys that kind of discussion, because he shot a big load up my cunt right in the middle of it," she laughed.
"I noticed! But the topic was pretty near to your heart as well, not just your pussy."
"Well, of course it was near to my heart. It was my idea! I thought it was original with me, but when he started talking about making a distinction between ethics and morality, it felt like he'd pulled it right out of my own brain!"
I nodded. I'd been pretty surprised when he brought it up as well. "So it's either a matter of great minds thinking alike, or maybe its not such an unusual idea after all," I offered.
I'd never heard anybody else mention it before I thought of it, and I had to mull it over a long time before it made sense," she said. "I never expected to be hearing it from a kid. And it IS an unusual idea, because even though the distinction has been made before, I've never seen it characterized the way I do. The other distinctions I've read don't really make the differences all that clear. They aren't consistent, either. They talk personal versus community values, or external versus internalized beliefs, or rules versus principles, things that can be thought of as interchangeable. I don't look at it that way, because I think the distinction is greater than that. I do agree with the rules versus principles concept, but not in the way I've seen others argue it. You've heard me talk about it before: morals are rules that are defined within a specific cultural context, things like who you can fuck and when, how you dress, how you show respect for people, and specific behaviors and taboos. Ethics is a set of principles, but not principles that are set by a community. They are principles that derive naturally from our common humanity, based on the reality of fundamental human equality."
"Yeah, you've explained it to me," I smiled. "More than once. I had to look it up myself, and believe it or not, your take on it makes more sense to me, and it's easier to understand than most of what I read. Some philosophers claim there's no distinction at all."
"I think those are the post-modernists," Tethys scoffed. "They don't believe there's anything that defines humanity other than culture, and every human emotion or value is some culturally dispensable thing. To them every cultural belief is equally valid, so by definition there's no possibility of moral progress. There is no Enlightenment in that approach. I think the very diversity of culture is what demonstrates that culture is an aspect of humanity, not the whole of it. We are shaped by our culture, but we also shape our cultures. You can be moral within the standards of your culture, but your culture itself can be inhumane, and therefore unethical."