This is the second part of a four part story about free-love experiences in the 1970s. In the first part Jordan and his lovers share the joys of mΓ©nage-a-trois expanding their sexual horizons. In this part their sensual exploration continues, Jordan has a surprise encounter with a former professor and ultimately recalls a love affair with a beautiful black actress.
If you'd like to know how this journey of erotic discovery began, you can find it in "Sleep with me!" Ch. 1 in 'Interracial Love'.
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Part 05: Sweet Surrender
S-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-t-t-t!
I took another pull off the joint, looked over at the bed where Ronnie slept, and thought about the scene I'd walked in on just a few days earlier.
I was delayed at the office so it was dark by the time I got home. I knocked on Sherry's door but there was no answer. I walked up to the fifth floor and heard music coming from inside my apartment. Nothing unusual about that. I opened the door and was struck by the combined scents of pot and patchouli. I stepped inside quietly; adjusting my eyes to the light of several candles. I saw my two lovers together in bed.
Katarina was on her back with Sherry straddling her face. Sherry had Kat's legs splayed apart, and had her face buried in her delicious pussy, busily lapping up her nectar. The women were so totally engrossed in each other's charms that they never heard me enter. Silently I made my way over to the canvas butterfly chair and accepted the role of voyeur. I heard a familiar buzzing. Kat held the bullet shaped 'neck' massager that was one of their favorite toys. From my vantage point I could see the tip disappear into Sherry's waiting pussy. Their mutual moans betrayed the fact that they'd obviously been at this for some time and were well past their initial orgasms. The room was filled with their heat and the headiness of their feminine bouquet. I was transfixed and I could feel the increasing urgency between my legs, demanding freedom. I undid my belt, unbuttoned my pants and unzipped my fly releasing my raging hard-on from the cloth prison. I sat there stroking my dick, wanting to join in, but unwilling to disturb their intense concentration.
"Oh God Kat," Sherry blurted out, "I'm cumming again!"
Kat rammed the vibrator into Sherry's pussy over and over. Sherry threw her head back and wailed her approval. When the orgasm subsided she looked over and noticed me in the chair.
"You planning on keeping that thing to yourself," she asked almost matter-of-factly, "or would you like to share?"
"Share, if it's alright with you gals." I responded. My voice was so thick I could barely croak out the words.
I removed the rest of my clothes and left them on the chair. I maneuvered between Kat's lovely legs, facing Sherry, and slid inside Kat's drenched pussy without another word. I leaned forward and took Sherry's swollen nipples in my mouth, alternating left and right, while Kat replaced the vibrator with her velvety tongue. Sometimes you just have to surrender to the inevitable. We never did have dinner that night.
Part 06: Rolfing Rhonda
Ronnie rolled over, lifting the sheet, exposing her beautiful brown buttocks to my eager view.
What was it about the last 36 hours anyway? Parts were just a blur but I'd try and sort that out later. I knew that Sherry needed some alone time so I'd spent the entire night making love with Katarina. When I got back from Kat's, Sherry was waiting for me with a look that said, "Where have you been?" without resorting to the use of actual words. I spent the entire day trying to fulfill her carnal desires so by that night I was totally 'fucked out'. All I wanted to do was go back to my apartment, feed my Siamese cat and take a long hot shower. What this boy desperately needed was sleep.
When I emerged from the shower and was about to crawl into bed my door buzzer went off. I went to the intercom and, to my complete and total shock, my former professor, Rhonda, was downstairs asking if she could come up.
Ronnie was this tall, beautiful young black woman. She possessed an incredibly tight physique - all those dance and movement classes - ample breasts and long luxurious legs. Her skin color was like the finest milk chocolate and she always seemed to glow from within. When I was enrolled in her classes I was never able to take my eyes off her. She always wore skintight leotard tops and never wore a bra. Her nipples would press up against the elastic material teasing my imagination.
I buzzed her in and waited as she climbed the five stories of my walk-up. When I answered the door I could smell the alcohol on Ronnie's breath. She claimed that she'd been out with some of the other women from NYU and, since they were passing my apartment, she just decided to find out if I was OK.
"You never said anything to anybody at all when you left, Jordan." There was a definite slur in her speech.
"How could you just leave like that?" she asked as she flopped into the only chair in the room.
She couldn't understand. None of them could. The decision to leave was as exceptionally painful as it was irrevocable. But there was something else weighing on my thoughts. What was she doing here? Why was she in my apartment? The woman didn't like me. That much had been obvious when I was in school. Ronnie had never uttered a kind word from those talented lips, never a single word of encouragement. She never praised, or even seemed to like, my scene-work. My vocalizations were never crisp enough. I never seemed to be on her wavelength. So what was she doing in my apartment?
I was determined not to be a bad host so I asked if I could get her anything. She spotted the Triomphe Jar filled with buds on my coffee table along with an assortment of water pipes, rolling papers and roach clips. She smiled warmly.
"How about you roll us a couple of fatties?" she asked.
No problem. I could roll a joint in my sleep, which I was practically doing anyway. We sat on the floor with our backs propped up against the bed. I lit the first joint of the evening.
S-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-t-t-t!