Triangle of Illusion and Desire
By Aleq de Satyr
"Don't lose your head, your brains are in it"...Anon
Part 1
It was a warm, hazy, lazy Saturday afternoon in June. I'd dozed off listening to a newly released CD by Bill Evans and his Trio, a really cool relaxing Jazz when the doorbell rudely awoke me.
The middle aged woman in sun glasses at the door seemed vaguely familiar but I couldn't place her. She also looked clean and sporty in her white shorts, white halter, white sneakers and white baseball cap.
"Well, if it isn't the lady in white" I smiled, noting the prominent soft bulge of her crotch, bisected by the seam of her shorts; a camel toe in porn parlance. I felt my cock stir. She smiled back.
"I'm Sirena and I'm here to pick up the package left for me by Marsha" she said in a husky voice.
Marsha, an Avon lady, was my neighbor in number 227, five houses down the block.
I told Sirena that Marsha had retrieved the package earlier, when she returned from her errands. I suggested she checked back there.
"I already did, but a note on the door said to pick up the package from 217". She said.
I was perplexed, so we both walked back to Marsha's but there was nobody home.
"Shit!" swore Sirena, clearly annoyed. "Marsha is so fucking disorganized, so help me", she added.
I suggested to Sirena that she could wait in my house for a while, until Marsha returned.
"I'm sure she's around somewhere, perhaps at a neighbor's, you know gossiping" I assured her.
"Thanks, you're very kind. I hope I'm not imposing and please excuse my language" she blurted. I could sense her impulsiveness, passion even bawdiness.
"Wow!" exclaimed Sirena as we entered my house. She seemed very impressed with the immaculate decor.
"God, I feel so welcomed, so much at home already" she said effusively.
She wandered around the foyer and the living room admiring the exotic carvings, sculpture and paintings.
"Such beautiful works of art" she said examining some bronze pieces from Benin. I offered Sirena some dry martini on the rocks with a platter of assorted smoked, spicy sea food and black olives.
"Rather quaint accent you have Raoul" she remarked, licking her fingertips seemingly enjoying the food.
"Afro-Cuban" I said.
"Kind of sexy" she smiled.
"So is your pretty name" I said.
"It's Mediterranean. And is derived from Siren, that mythical creature of seduction".
"Well, you certainly are seductive" I said.
"Yeah, right" she chuckled. She seemed lulled by the sensuous guitar music of Laurindo D'Almeda, the warm afternoon breeze.
We talked and joked and philosophized and griped, enjoying each other's company. We seemed to have so much in common. In the meantime we'd forgotten all about Marsha and the package. I refilled Sirena's glass again and again, surprised at her capacity to handle her drink.
Sirena was a social worker, a divorcee and mother of two grown daughters. She was neither beautiful nor glamorous, just a regular but wholesome woman and quite sexy in a subtle way. She was also clean and nifty. Her tanned face was lined with a few fine wrinkles, making her look a little older than her 46 years, same age as me. Her light brown eyes matched her raven hair, streaked lightly with grey. She lived in suburban Crete, ten miles south of me.
I thoroughly enjoyed Sirena's candid conversation, embroidered at times with colorful language. She told me about her life to the day, which was so interesting and instructive. She came across as a very intelligent, tenacious, courageous woman. She was between relationships and bursting with raging hormones and a definite buzz in her cunt.
"So you have multiple women lovers. How exciting" she said, her voice tinged with curiosity
"Yes and they are mostly mature, in their fifties mellowed, carefree, fiercely independent women who are always refreshingly horny...They are openly unabashed with a great affinity for the unorthodox and the outrageous life-style. Women who dare to be robust and consume sex like crabmeat, indulging in a down to earth female erotic liberation". Sirena was visibly aghast. "I love women, period". I added.
She was speechless. But more importantly, she seemed comforted even captivated by my words.
"It's amazing but I really do feel comfortable with you. It's almost as if I'd known you for years", she smiled.
Our conversation had become a kind of foreplay. Sirena was totally drawn into my sphere with a visceral attraction. I noted her rather coy visual exploration of my body clad in tight denims, and which pulled snug against my crotch, accentuating the large bulging cock and leaving little to the imagination.
It dawned on me then, that we'd been together for two hours already and seemed to enjoy every minute of it. Almost as if our encounter was preordained. Then I recalled where I'd seen Sirena before, at the City college symposium on personal development back in the Fall. She was a panelist.
Sirena wanted a tour of the house. She seemed a little tipsy and all giggles but very relaxed and steady. She'd politely turned down a joint I offered her. I started her off from the Den. She was astonished by the erotic art on the walls and the various collections of erotica: Books, photos and audio-visuals.
"My goodness, you're quite a connoisseur of erotica!" she cried, sampling some of the items.
"And they seem rather tasteful and artistic, not the usual sleazy, trashy kind most men go for. I'd love to spend some time enjoying some of the videos" she added.
"Would you like to see a video of women ejaculating?" I asked. "Umm...I'll take a rain check on that for now" she smiled.
A sudden image of what it might take to get into Sirena's panties flashed across my mind. I watched her from behind, feasting my eyes on her rounded ass so sensual in the tight shorts. Her red bikini panties, clearly visible thru the light material of her shorts.
All along we'd felt each other out, both of us expecting the other to take the first step or give the first sign of sexual interest. I knew Sirena was willing to be seduced.
I moved closer and wrapped my arms around her from behind, rubbing against her audaciously, lustfully, as she leafed thru an album of nudes. She leaned into me, pushing her soft ass against my crotch for a brief moment feeling my hardness. I let my hands wander over her body, caressing her breasts, her belly and finally cupping her crotch, feeling her tremble slightly the intake of her breath.
"You have a beautiful ass" I whispered.
"So, what's upstairs" she asked suddenly, breaking loose from me. "Let's go find out" I said, putting my arm around her.
I showed her around the rest of the house and finally led her upstairs, ending up in the master bedroom. She seemed fascinated with the decor, the layout with more erotic art on the walls.
"Oh, a water bed"! cried Sirena excitedly. "I've always wanted to get one but never seem to get around to it" she said, falling backwards on the bed her legs splayed out.
She moved her body around sinuously, seemingly enjoying the feel of the bed. We looked into each other's eyes deeply, sending silent messages. The air was thick with a distinct sexual possibility.
