Three months after the Long Island adventure, Vic looked down at her lover keeping her warm in the small cool cabin in Woodstock. Three months after she envisioned the most likely subject to be the one for her, she was looking at him. She lingered over his long narrow torso, glanced at his penis, which was short and fat after it exploded thrillingly inside her a few minutes before. She would soon make it long and narrow again.
Paul was his own man. His shaggy bearded head, hiding a long, narrow, handsome face, revealed his hippie nature. Ostensibly he was a copywriter, but the little extra money he got reviewing the local performance art scene in and around Woodstock for the local paper was where he felt satisfied. The reviews had an attitude which was endearing. He set the scene for the performance, bringing himself into the review. He let the reader know his mood, so they could receive his review realizing what kind of day he had had and why he might not like, or might rave at a performance. He let the reader know it was just his silly opinion, albeit intelligent and well versed in the viewing of a performance.
Where he felt most relevant in his life was as a preacher of his own peculiar form of Unitarianism. His gatherings on Sundays were small, the tithing small and used for support of home schooling. They had met when Victoria accompanied Kristen and her son Max to discuss home schooling in Woodstock. Victoria and Miranda, Kristin's ex-lover and good friend, were planning to give Max his lessons. Kristen had become exclusive with Don, a man with a conservative soul, whom she loved. She didn't want to try the patience or the jealousy of her lover. Kristin set aside her lesbian tendencies for him.
On the other hand, Vic had found her man and expected him to accept his sharing her with Jim. And with Connie. And with Robyn, Jim's newest conquest. Vic thought of Robyn, the voluptuous, gorgeous, sexy African-American woman whom Jim modeled with and had fallen in love with a couple months before. She thought of the meeting of Jim and Robyn.
Vic stared at Paul's benign penis, when the disturbing thought broke through her inner peace. She was comparing this lovely cock to another's. It wasn't Jim's magnificent club, but one which was the closest in size to Jim's she had ever seen. A cock that would forever change her, despite its brief time in her life. The cock of a man who was as opposite a man as could be to Paul. Unlike Paul, Jamal was tough and mean and had a rigorous self confidence. Jamal was as much of the city as Paul was of the rural town. While Jamal was feral, Paul was as docile as a sheep.
The thought of the big black man's big black cock disturbed her peace. She got out of bed, careful not to disturb her sleeping lover, covering him with a couple layers of blanket to protect him from the wintry air that slipped easily into his cabin, then covering herself with a soft terry robe. Despite the memory projecting onto Paul's body, she needed to separate herself from Paul, keep the two men faraway from each other, even in thought. She made tea and nestled with it, soaking in the steam and its sweet warmth. She let the memory flow through her like the hot tea. The herbal tea was sweet and tangy. The memory of Jamal was bitter.
After flirting with fiasco during the adventure in Long Island, Vic decided on a darker voyeuristic adventure. Inner city hip hip hop black club in Boston. The place was dark and loud, which was a good thing in a way, but mostly it would get to be difficult communicating, having their voyeur subjects communicate. But the good thing was it was a really cool club, oozing a neon, pulsating atmosphere. The dancing was hot to the steady hip-hop beat. There were a hundred pas de deux of the most blatant sexual kind being performed by mostly African Americans, mostly beautiful couples. Both Vic and Jim realized it was to be a physical seduction. No verbal cleverness here. They found a spot to observe the movements of the bar, looking for subjects.
When Jim spotted Robyn, he felt like the cartoon wolf, his mouth gaping to the floor. Her voluptuous body was revealed by the tight, nearly painted on blouse and pants she wore. And her face was as breathtaking as Connie's. She was with girlfriends. He left Vic to attempt his seduction. A few moments later Vic was satisfied with her choice and sashayed her way beside the man.
The two couples hit the dance floor. Jim didn't feel like he fit in with his sweeping moves. He looked like a huge pheasant with his big body and long arms. But he enjoyed the feeling it gave him, so he went with it, holding Robyn's eyes as much as he could with all the swooping he was performing. She seemed interested, though on the edge of mocking him. She actually broke out laughing on more than one occasion, throwing off her impossibly sexy bump and grind. When the beats slowed, Jim snuck up behind Robyn and held her, pressing the hill of his growing club against the resisting though hard to resist roundness of her ass. He matched her sways. He felt the firm muscles of her stomach as she moved beneath his hands. He turned her to face him, bent his knees, sliding his hardness along her stomach and down between her thighs. She liked what she felt. Her hands slid down to his ass. She felt its bulge, its firmness, as she pressed his other impressive bulge harder against her. Her pink tongue slipped out and she touched Jim's ear. "Ooh," she sighed, a long sigh starting deep in her lungs and then throaty, then finishing just at the top of the throat at the back of the mouth a little high, like a quiet squeal.
Not a great dancer, Jamal was all about his intense dark eyes, watching the white flesh, aged yet firm, and the sexy, smart eyes and lips of this lovely forty year old blonde. He watched her every move as she shimmied to the thick beat. He pressed her against his loins during the slow dance. She could feel his powerful body and the thickness of his big cock beneath his classy shirt and slacks. He liked her flesh as well against him, its softness, the way her body fit against his, only a couple inches shorter than his six foot height.
By the end of the slow song, Vic steered Jamal and Jim steered Robyn to the same area of the dance floor, on the edge where their table was near. When the mid-tempo groove throbbed, the bass shaking the floor, Jim and Vic steered Robyn and Jamal together, trading partners. They danced beside the new couple. Hoping. Praying. Watching. Not able to keep their eyes off their discoveries, but trying to divert the attention of the new lovers away from them and to each other. Both Vic and Jim enjoyed lingering over these beautiful people. Both were stirred to the core, the place between the thighs. Even Jim's heart was stirred by exchanging stares with Robyn. It was left to Jim to move farther away, to give the new couple space to meet.
Gaining the distance they needed, Vic and Jim hungrily embraced, grinding their groins together to the beat.
"They're beautiful," said Vic loud enough to be heard as her tongue grazed Jim's ear.
Jim responded by pushing into her harder, hitting the spot near her pelvic bone that hungered for the friction. Jim's and Vic's eyes shut and they groaned into their lover's ear. The thrill of their encounters was reverberating inside. More grinding would have brought both of them to climax. They held to a vibrant plateau until the song ended, and they headed to their table.
Waiting patiently for Jamal and Robyn to end their pas de deux, they noticed the two were obviously appreciating each other's fabulous bodies, but weren't as energetic in their closeness. Their eyes would move away from each other and seek out the two matchmakers. After three or so glances towards the table, Jim signaled a drink to Robyn, who nodded her head, ending the dance. She sat across from Jim at the back of the table. Jamal sat across from Vic. Vic caught the waitress, and they ordered. The two hopeful new lovers sat together.
In the thudding silence, stares lingered across the table, broken by shared smiles between Vic and Jim. A couple of those smiles ended in gentle kisses
Eventually they shared names. By the time the drinks arrived, Vic paying for the round, they exchanged stories. Robyn was between jobs, between careers, having discovered she didn't enjoy elementary school teaching like she thought she would. But she wasn't sure what to do next. Jim could see she was a free spirit, an artistic spirit.
"I bet you have a hobby important to you," he said. She nodded her head and smiled. "So maybe you could turn that into some job."
"I like to draw and paint," said Robyn in her medium high and throaty voice.
"Really? I'd love to see them," he said suddenly.
"I'd love to show them to you," said Robyn. They smiled, lost in their eyes. Vic was concerned.
"So Jamal," asked Vic, "what do you do?"
"I'm partners in a clothing store downtown. Very classy clothes."
"I can see," said Vic, with the flirt well ensconced in the statement.
"I'm not a haberdasher, more a salesman. Promotion. I've made a few contacts. I'm good at the pitch."
"I can see you sell by example," said Vic as her eyes again traversed the terrain of his big strong body.
Jamal paid for the next round. Halfway through the drinks, Vic needed to use the toilet. She glanced at Robyn as she arose from her chair, catching Robyn's eye when she told the table her intentions. Robyn remained glued to her seat.
"Robyn, could you come along?" Vic finally asked. Jamal moved his strong body gracefully from the table, Vic noticing the large lump still there extending down his leg. Robyn slipped out. The two men eyed the voluptuous moves as the women departed, Jamal watching Vic while Jim was watching Robyn.
"Nice," said Jamal. Jim agreed. Jim took a deep sip, prepping for the question.
