Many thanks to Nouh Bdee for proofreading and editing this story.
----
"Clearly the main characters were not monogamous. They were capable of loving more than one person at a time. So all that drama was useless," Kora stated to end our discussion, as she slowed down behind a traffic light.
I shrugged. "The book was about more than just their sex life. I don't think polygamy was the point..."
"I beg to differ," she interrupted, with an annoying, passive-aggressive laugh. I twisted my face in imitation of what Kora said to make my wife, Sofia laugh. She was in the backseat of the car next to me, clearly amused at my attempts to revolt against the tyranny of Kora.
"I think the point was that the male protagonist was just a cheater...he was cheating in his career as a writer and parliament minister as well." I tapped on Tomas' shoulder for support. He smiled, but did not dare say anything against his wife.
"Yes, and?" Kora uttered condescendingly. "The female protagonist also cheated on her husband, which means what? That they could live an honest poly life and be happy. Problem solved. The drama was a non-drama. Really the book was, at best, meh" Kora wanted us to acknowledge that Elena Ferrante's Neapolitan books were not worth talking about on a Sunday afternoon after a jazz festival. "Anyway, I am glad you two also took Monday off. I don't understand people who go back home directly after a festival."
"Yes, I can't imagine driving home now with a massive hangover. We booked a hotel for today somewhere around here actually." Sofia pointed at a block of wooden houses in the centre of Pori. "We always chill on Sundays after a festival, and go back home only on Mondays. To be very honest, one more day away from children is a blessing," Sofia joked and Tomas laughed. Sofia then winked at me, "but going back to the previous conversation, I don't think in the 1960s or 1970s many knew about polyamory, or could see themselves as one, or indeed could lead such a free life for that matter."
"Grace Jones is the same age as the characters in that story," Kora said, annoyed, and then kept quiet as she drove. The reason she referred to Grace Jones was because Grace Jones was the last performer of the festival and appeared naked on the stage, preaching about sexual freedom.
Sofia and I shared a triumphant smile. We both like teasing sources of power. Tomas understood what we were up to and fidgeted in the front seat to turn around and give us a knowing smile. The moment he turned, though, Kora asked him to stop squirming. "I am trying to drive, Tomas! I cannot see from the mirror if you put your head in the middle." She then told us "you must excuse my husband. He always gets excited like this." Kora darted an angry look at him. Tomas' face twisted and reddened in shame, and peered outside the window.
"I think it's unfair to expect people to know what they want sexually." I addressed Kora. "To be honest, Sofia and I, in the year 2017 of our lord, still don't...we still don't know what we want in bed," I confessed, to my own surprise, and looked at my wife apologetically. The sentence I started as a joke turned so confessional all of a sudden.
Sofia was taken aback and hurt a bit. I know this because she tried to make light of what I said without acknowledging it. "Little baby is confused. Maybe it's all the weed you smoke." Tomas laughed at her remark.
"Aren't we all confused?" Tomas looked amused as Kora parked the car in front of an Italian restaurant in the seaside of Pori town.
"No, I mean it," I retorted. I felt hurt a bit that they made fun of me. I usually don't share emotions much and their comments made me feel attacked and insecure. Sofia narrowed her eyes, looking at me, and then got out of the car. After all, from her point of view, I was sharing this revelation in front of two strangers. Unlike Sofia, I was completely fine with talking about our sex life in front of Tomas and Kora. Even though we had only met them on that morning in the campsite of the Pori Jazz festival, the circumstances of that encounter made the topic of sex easy to share.
When I got out of the car, I could see from Sofia's face that she needed answers. "What was that about?" She wanted reassurance that we were fine. I smiled at her and kissed her forehead.
"Everything is fine, baby," I whispered to her ear as we walked towards the restaurant. "Let's have our lunch!"
The other two were waiting for us to go inside the restaurant. This time Kora had a triumphant smile. "Come on, weed boy! What's confusing you?" she said with another laugh. "Tell us from the beginning!"
I didn't tell them the whole story: just the outlines. Even I didn't know what I meant by my own comment. Nothing was clear to me. I tried to recreate everything chronologically in order to see if I understood my feelings better.
***
Sofia and I never honestly acknowledged that sex had become banal; that something was missing. And so, I had learned to escape to my mind from the monotony of monogamous life, and to fantasize about others. And festivals are fantastic opportunities in this sense because the whole ritual of dancing and having fun in crowds is paganistic, raw, and sexual. Especially for someone like me who is drawn to group sex.
Pori Jazz that year became different, though. What changed our lives forever was the final performance on Saturday night, the last night of the festival. Grace Jones, in her late sixties, appeared naked on the stage. Her amazingly firm tits were projected on several LCDs as she shamelessly wiggled them. She walked around the stage exhibiting her oiled up, naked body, and talking about how prudence is the enemy of art and freedom.
All this made many like me horny and randy. I guess, under the influence of alcohol or drugs, and seeing her gorgeous tits, many dared to dance shirtless and shameless. That's what Grace Jones advocated. "Get naked and free!" I, too, took off my loose shirt to feel the erotic brush of hands, torsos and sometimes breasts against my smooth skin. I felt a tingling in my belly and groin, and caught the gaze of many whose eyes were also burning with lust. But nothing was as erotic as the moment I grabbed Sofia by the waist and she shimmied off her long black coat. She revealed her glittered torso and legs, which were covered only with a tiny black bandeau and a mini skirt. I could feel my heartbeat as I wished to see her lose the bandeau. But, she didn't; she continued to twerk provocatively against me, using a lot of hips and breasts. I was horny looking at her and the other semi-naked sexy creatures who vibrated with lust and desire. I danced around Sofia's hot twirling body and groped her as much as I could in that crowded pit, full of people dancing to a rhythmic funk.
Soon, two strong, young men were pushed next to Sofia. They knew how to keep up with her moves, and had fun dancing suggestively with her, sandwiching my wife. I just couldn't take it anymore. I pulled Sofia to me, grabbed her waist, and pressed her ass against my cock. My tongue found her neck and back as my hands ran all over her chest. We were sweating, yet cool in that seaside weather. She knew no one but me would dare to touch her.
Seeing that, the two guys started moving away. I guess to them it looked like Sofia's ass would be only mine to drill. Looking at the guys, I made sure they understood they could stay. Sofia turned and put my hands against her ass, and pressed her tits onto my chest, kissing me passionately. The two men got closer and started brushing her naked arms and back with their hands. I felt my cock bursting out of my shorts; I grabbed Sofia by the hand and took us out of the crowd.
My cock painfully tented my shorts as I dragged Sofia through the crowd to the patch of woods near the stage. I assumed the two guys would follow, since I thought we all felt ready to move things further and they understood the meaning of my look. I looked back, but they weren't behind us to my surprise. I waited by the edge of the woods and then Sofia turned my head and kissed me passionately. I couldn't wait any longer. I took her into the woods and turned her around, pressed her against a tree, rolled up her skirt, and shoved my cock into her pussy with no hesitation. She was so wet that no further foreplay was needed. A cry left her lips, but the music was so loud that I could barely hear Sofia's moans. Realizing that no matter how loud she cried no one would hear her, she let go of all inhibition and roared with lust. I pulled on her hair and pumped into her vagina hard in the shelter of the noise, trees, and darkness. She was practically screaming. I, too, let go and grunted as much as I could, slapped her ass red, and talked so dirty that it was out of character. I still looked around in the hope that the guys would turn up and Sofia would suck them dry. With that image in mind, I came without warning and she just collapsed against the tree as I let go of her. After that, we went back to our tent, but we were still horny and kept fucking like rabbits.
Sunday morning, Sofia and I were sleeping half naked in our tent. We were spooning each other and sweating from the heat when the hubbub of people packing their tents woke me up.
