Fall, in Louisiana, was actually a full season I was to find out. Fall, back home in Minnesota, could be as short as four weeks before we'd get slammed with our first taste of cold and snow.
Not so in N'awlins, I was so pleased to discover; Fall, an actual three month season, who knew?
As Fall inched its way through October, things were going just dandy in our life, thankfully. We brought on another part-timer, a suite-mate of Justine's; a pleasant young woman, Tiff, thus allowing Ali and I to get some time to work on our own art. Sami's behavior on the job had not changed since that first delightful threesome, and in fact, her already stellar performance seemed to have kicked up a notch or two, she seemingly growing very comfortable dealing with the moneyed collectors and investment types.
Not that there was a constant stream of pedestrian traffic in an art gallery, no, it was more about taking inquires from collectors, a lot of computer conversations, and some private showings at night.
So, with the third part-timer, Ali and I decided to take a couple of days to travel the Gulf Coastal regions of Mississippi and Alabama. Mississippi, more than Alabama, had taken a pounding from Katrina on that horrible August night, homes and structures gone in the blink of an eye.
"Before Katrina," Ali was saying as we drove slowly on hwy. 90, the 'old' east-west route that followed the coastline, "there were gorgeous ante-bellum mansions all along this route, homes that were well over a hundred and fifty years old, but lived-in, maintained in pristine condition."
I could see the 'foot-prints' of former home sites, the grass and brick walkways leading from the sidewalks to…nothing; blank spaces that should have been occupied by a structure but lay empty, debris still piled up, in some cases, utter emptiness in others.
"The Casinos are a relatively new thing to the Mississippi coast, and they took a pounding as well," she continued, "but with their deep pockets, filled with the money from people who can't afford to lose it, they were the first to start the rebuilding process."
Along the coast, on the water, Casinos that had already rebuilt and were up and running, had their parking lots filled with vehicles that had driven through the destruction in order to line the pockets of the operators. Some Casinos were almost finished and would be up and running soon; those that had opened had no difficulty finding people willing to throw their hard-earned money down the black hole that gambling provides.
As is usually the case with Casinos, they took far more from a community than it gave back, despite all of the ballyhoo made about providing a larger tax base, school funding, etc.
Again, as is usually the case when a Casino set its claws into a community, the people who could afford it the least, lost the most, and not just monetarily.
~
We drove on that first day to Gulf Shores, Alabama, a golf-course laden resort community that had escaped major damage when the storm roared into the belly of America.
We had a tee-time scheduled for the next day and after checking in and unpacking, Ali and I went to the hotel lounge for a drink or two, seeking to erase the images of destruction we had witnessed on the drive from New Orleans.
"Have you heard from Sharon?" I asked Ali as we sipped our Scotches.
"Nothing except for the phone call about her upcoming party," she answered, "seems like she's enjoying her threesomes these days with couples," laughing a bit after saying it.
It was true. Sharon's visits to our bed had diminished significantly, but neither Ali nor I were bothered by that fact. Sharon was a fun playmate in the bedroom but her need to play with others was greater than our need for another in our bed. Simply said, Sharon was high-maintenance when sex was involved.
Despite her excellent abilities at pleasuring women, Sharon still liked cock as part of her sexual diet; she, being a third wheel in a couples bed, provided her the opportunity to get her share of both pussy and dick and that suited Sharon just fine, thank you very much.
"How about Di? Have you heard from her since she's been on tour?" Ali asked me. Di was on, yet, another tour promoting her Jazz CD that was starting to gain recognition in that small world inhabited by Jazz aficionados.
"Yeah, I have, she called the other day, from Seattle I think," adding, "the tour is going really well and the label is thinking about putting her back into the studio for a follow up session."
"Good thing we have Sami to play with from time to time," Ali smilingly said.
That was also true. Sami had joined us a few more times in our bed since that first time, the three of us having a wonderful time when she did.
"I'm impressed with Sami's ability to keep our business relationship completely separate from our sexual fun-times," Ali said to me.
"Me too; she's been a real surprise on that level," I agreed, "much more mature than her twenty-two years," I added.
"Given any more thought to offering her the managership of the gallery?" Ali asked, ordering us another round of drinks, afterwards.
"We could do worse," I offered, "and she's handled most of the customer contacts anyway," pausing for a second or two, "so, all in all, I'm on board with it."
"Good, I am too," Ali said smiling, reaching under the table to rub my thigh, just below my shorts.
Smiling at her, I asked, "S'matter baby, getting horny thinking about Sami?"
"Nope, getting horny thinking about your sweet nookie," she answered.
Downing my drink in one gulp, I stood, looking down at Ali, saying, "Wanna' play, li'l girl?"
Slamming her drink down as well, she stood, saying, "You don't have to ask me twice, Princess," licking her lips suggestively at me.
Lying in bed, waiting for Ali to join me, I was enjoying the soft moonlight that found its way into our room, through the patio slider doors. My fingers were stroking my pubes, the sensation sending baby-flutters to my crotch as I thought about our last time with Sami.
She was totally satisfied being our bitch, though we didn't intend that to be so, it just became that in the few times she shared herself with us. Her need to taste pussy seemed insatiable, willing to be between our legs repeatedly, willing to wait for us to pleasure her, in turn.
That last time, she serviced our needs, our desires, one after the other, while the other watched her do so. After she had finished getting one of us off, she would lean on her elbow and look to the 'watcher', her eyes indicating that she was ready to go at it again.
She never made any demands or requests of us, seemingly satisfied with whatever it was we wanted to do to her. As Ali observed after that last time, she was the 'perfect' sex-slave, if you were into that, and we truly weren't, nor did we want to be that.
Ali joined me, slipping into my arms as I welcomed her soft kisses. We kissed tenderly, lovingly, she rolling so that her leg was between mine, pressing against my wet snatch; her pussy was on my thigh, rubbing slowly back and forth, her wetness leaving trails on my skin.
Cupping her breast in my hand, I slowly fondled her as we deepened our kiss, as our hips rubbed harder against the other's leg with our pussies, our orgasms finding their way to the surface, eager to burst free.
Ali's breasts feel simply wonderful to the touch, at least to me, to my touch; I loved copping quick feels of her, loving the softness in my hand. This night, it seemed more so, it seemed that her breasts were on fire, they feeling hot in my hand.
We each held off our climaxes as long as we possibly could but, as was usually the case, when one of us climaxed, the other soon followed. This night it would be Ali who pulled the trigger first, but I was a very close second.
"Damn, but I so enjoy making love with you, to you," she softly said as we held onto each other in embrace, savoring the after-shocks of satisfying sex.
