Chapter three: Friday, March 20, 2020.
I woke up the next morning to an empty bed. I groped around for my phone and saw that it was already 10:00. Way to sleep away the morning, you lazy bum, I thought, and stumbled downstairs in my pyjamas looking for coffee.
Everyone else was downstairs sitting around the dining room table, working on their laptops. Sonya looked up as I came in. "Well, well, if it isn't sleeping beauty," she taunted. "Did you get your beauty sleep?"
"You seemed to be having trouble sleeping last night," Katherine said. She wasn't wrong. I passed out after our lovemaking, but I awoke soon after and spent the night tossing and turning, unable to get thoughts of Sonya and George, George and Katherine, Katherine and Sonya, me and Sonya, out of my head. "So I decided to let you sleep. But some of us have been up working for hours already."
I sighed. So much for awaking to the orgy I dreamed of. I guessed we still had to figure out how it was going to work.
Sonya stood up, and as she passed me, she grabbed my ass. Well, that was promising. "Co-distancing house meeting at two," she told me. "Get your work done by then, because no working or Covid talk after that."
I spent the rest of the morning actually doing my job by prepping for next week's classes. I was still figuring out what it meant to teach online, especially without access to my books, which were back in the city. I found that letting go of expectations helped. But as it got closer to two, I had a harder time focusing.
Around two, Sonya and I emerged from the rooms where we had been working. George and Katherine were already in the kitchen, getting wine for all of us. They led the way to the living room carrying the wine. I brought up the rear, with Sonya in front of me, and as we walked, I gently stroked her back. She looked at me over her shoulder and smiled. The house we were renting had a large living room with two big sofas-daybeds, really-facing each other, flanking a fireplace and a coffee table. George and Katherine set the pattern by sitting next to each other on one sofa, and Sonya and I sat next to each other facing them.
"I have an idea," Sonya offered. "How about each one of us talks a little about what we're hoping to get out of this new sexual order."
"So," I prompted, "who wants to go first?" I hope that by asking the question, I wouldn't have to start. Clearly, despite our general enthusiasm, we were all still a little shy, because nobody clamored to go first.
Sonya looked at her husband. "Why don't you start, honey? You did a great service with your story yesterday."
George cleared his throat and took a big swallow of wine. Yesterday notwithstanding, he was still clearly feeling a little insecure. "So, I've been watching a bunch of porn," he said nervously, "and I recently watched one that I was really into. Do you know about bird-dogging?" I did, as it happened, but Katherine looked confused. "It's basically amateur videos of women going out to the countryside-I think it's mostly an English thing-and getting gangbanged, usually in their car or near their car. Do you remember that French book that came out when we were just starting grad school that people were really into because it was smutty but high class? The Confessions of M? Catherine something?" He was sure to pronounce the name in the proper French way. "I can't remember the title."
I remembered the book. "Yeah, about a magazine editor or something like that who liked gangbangs. Right?"
"Yes," George confirmed. "She would go around France and her husband set up events where men would line up to fuck her. Dozens of them. You can see why Americans were into it: it let us read about the prurient French while also getting to read about group sex, and because it was a woman and she told it as a story of self-empowerment, we could feel good morally about it. It was perfect because it simultaneously let us feel superior to the French for being more puritanical, inferior for being less intellectual and free, and we could still get our rocks off. Anyway, these bird-dogging videos are like that, but they're English so they're much less sophisticated."
Katherine broke in. "So you're into gang bangs? Unfortunately, we've only got two dicks here, not dozens." She laughed, but she used the opportunity to get closer to him and move her hand next to his leg. He ignored her interruption.
"One of the things about bird-dogging videos is that the camera is usually held by the husband, who's watching and facilitating the gangbang. Sometimes he directs people to stay in the frame or move so he can get a good angle. But his character isn't fleshed out, and we're never told what he's getting out of filming his wife fuck and suck a bunch of other dudes. But there was one I watched recently that had a totally different dynamic. It started in a similar way, with a dyed-blonde woman sitting in a car seat with the door open, going down on a tubby man with his pants around his ankles. Then it cut to her lying on the car hood, her skirt hiked up and her legs splayed out, with a different guy fucking her. But what was striking is how she kept looking over at the camera, as if testing to see if she was doing it right.
"We hadn't seen the first guy come, but the second guy finished by pulling out and coming all over her shaved, hairless pussy. He grunted and backed away, and that's when we heard the husband-cinematographer speak. 'You enjoy my little slut?' He was talking to his friend, who pulled up his pants, came over to the camera, and seemed to high-five the husband. 'Yeah, mate. She's a right good lay.' Or some similar ridiculous English thing. Then a third guy appeared, and the husband told him to enjoy himself. He took his dick, wiped the other guy's cum with it, and pulled the woman's head up by her hair so she was sitting on the edge of the car and forced her to lick the cum off his dick. It was then that I noticed the woman was wearing a collar with a lock on it. I realized this was some sort of BDSM scene. And the woman sank to her knees beside the car, but as she was sucking off the third guy, she kept looking over at her master for approval. 'Slut,' he said, 'remember that you are my gift to these fine gentlemen, and by servicing them you are servicing me.'"
This was not, I had to admit, my particular kink, but it was still pretty hot. My cock was safely in my pants, but it was straining as it got harder. Next to me, Sonya's nipples were standing out prominently. Across the way Katherine's bosom was rising and falling and she breathed heavily, and she had gotten still closer to George. He was restoring the effect he'd had with his story yesterday, turning all of us on.