Piles and Heaps

Dacia sat outside my door, her bag by her side.

“I told the girls you would be on time,” I apologized. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“It’s cool. So Shelby and Theresa are here?”

“Yes,” I kissed her hello and unlocked the door. “We just ate at a diner they wanted to try. They are picking up provisions while I set up for the party.”

“Very good,” Dacia dropped her bag and removed her shoes. I hung my jacket and kicked off my shoes. We chatted as I set to cleaning up from the afternoon’s project—sorting Jefferson’s mail.

Between rounds of sex that afternoon, Theresa had noticed the pile of papers that stretched across two counters. “What’s this?” she asked.

“That’s his mail,” scoffed Shelby. “He gets a ton of it and never reads it.”

“It’s mostly unsolicited press releases,” I offered as a weak excuse. “I should sort it . . .”

“Oh, may I sort it for you?” Theresa asked.

“Really? Well, sure, be my guest.”

“Thanks! I love sorting mail.” Theresa is a compulsive organizer. She once went into my very clean and orderly kitchen and found an hour’s worth of work to do.

I should check—I’d bet my spice rack is now in alphabetical order.

“Then I will make your day,” I said. I opened a cabinet and produced four more bags of unopened mail.

“Ooh, this is fun!” Shelby clapped, gathering her kimono to squat on the floor with Theresa.

They sorted, disposing of three large garbage bags of junk. In the process, they excavated an unopened Christmas card, three checks and a letter dated September 2001.

We felt that we had earned some more sex. And then dinner. But in our self-congratulations, we had left the floor a mess.

Shelby and Theresa returned from the store. “What are you doing to our piles?!” Shelby complained.

“Sorry, baby, I just have to clean up . . .”

“Ignore him. Talk to me,” Dacia demanded.

They were happy to comply, wanting Dacia to see the chocolate cake they had purchased to celebrate her twenty-fifth birthday. I busied myself with preparations.

A good crew was soon assembled in my living room, about ten people, evenly matched by gender. All were regulars but for Todd’s new friend, Farahnaz.

Farahnaz stepped out of her high-heeled strap-ons at the door, but retained her height. She is elegant and slender, with her brown hair long and styled like a 1940s movie star. She was soon regaling Mitzi with conversation about jewelry and travel, as a corner of the room listened in.

She’s the sort of young woman who loves being feminine, and rightly so, as she chose to be a woman.

Farahnaz is a post-op transsexual.

It’s hard to imagine that woman was ever trapped inside a man’s body.

Thomas arrived on the late side. He knew everyone else in the room, so I introduced him to Farahnaz.

“Oh,” he stammered. “We’ve met.”

Of course they had met. Thomas the bisexual straight boy has a thing for trannies.

Only Farahnaz, Todd, Thomas and I were aware she was not born to her chosen gender.

Farahnaz asked Todd when people would begin to get undressed. “I think now,” he replied, taking her by the hand as he stood. She stood next to him, and they walked to the bedroom. We followed suit, dividing into different combinations.

Theresa and Thomas found a quiet place to kiss and slowly undress. But most preferred the heap on my bed.

Farahnaz sat up among the entangled, kissing bodies. “I thought we were going to undress. I don’t want to have to be first.” Everyone dutifully tugged at buttons and zippers. “Okay, so I don’t mind being first.” She pulled her dress up over her head, revealing her nude body.

There were audible gasps, just short of applause. She was stunning.

Nudity was soon the standard rather than the exception.

But not for Dacia, who sat watching from a chair, dressed all in black like Johnny Cash, not altogether sure she was ready for a full onslaught of group sex after her recent illness.

Mitzi kneeled before her. “May we at least see your feet?” she asked.

Dacia allowed that. Mitzi removed a sock to reveal a bare foot with bright red nails.

“Can we see that again, but slower, with the other foot?” I asked, as I twirled Mark’s chest hair.

Mitzi tossed back a shoulder and slowly, slinkily removed the remaining sock. She took Dacia’s toes in her mouth, her eyes locked on mine.

“That is a wrap,” I said. “Nice work, Mitzi!”

“And . . . scene!” Mitzi smiled at me.

Mitzi’s eyes were often on mine. She peered at me from under Todd’s ass as she licked his balls. She glanced at me as Mark licked her pussy. She looked up at me as she sucked my cock.

I enjoyed the connection.

As we lay in the tangle, my arm around Mitzi, my head against Farahnaz, who was getting fucked by Mark, Donny came looking for me. He plopped himself on the heap, squeezing into the bed next to me.

“Hello Mitzi. Hello Jefferson,” he said, massaging my cock.

“Hi Donny. What are you doing to Jefferson’s cock?”

“Getting it ready to fuck me.”

“Oh, I would very much like to see that,” Mitzi cooed. She had, in fact, asked me to fuck a boy that night, as she had never seen this. “May I be of some assistance?”

“Yes, you could suck his cock. That would be nice.”

“Oh, gladly.” She glanced at me as she set to her task.

Donny lubed his ass and opened a condom. “He looks plenty hard to me, Mitzi.”

“Oh he is hard, Donny. Are you ready for him to fuck you?”

“Yeah, just as soon as I get this condom on him.”

I rather enjoyed the way they talked about me as though I were not present. I was just the life support system for the cock they shared.

Donny lowered himself onto me. My hands held his slender hips, then caressed his tanned, muscular body. He kissed Mitzi as he rode me, fondling her breasts.

“Okay, I want on top,” I said. Donny pulled off me, and I struggled my way out of the tangle of bodies.

Donny lay on his back near the bed’s edge. I pulled him closer to the edge, pushed his legs back and entered him. I stood on the floor, legs apart for greater depth.

“Wow,” Mitzi smiled.

“This is something nice to see!” Farahnaz agreed. She maneuvered her body to kiss Donny as she was getting fucked on all fours.

Her hair fell in his face; his hand reached to caress her cheeks.

I was slow at first but moved fast into a higher gear. I grabbed his gorgeous tits and squeezed.

I fucked him hard, spanking him, stroking his cock until he was near orgasm, when he would stop me. “Not yet,” he whispered. “Not yet.”

I was fucking to the limits of my ability, fast and hard for a long time. Sweat from my brow fell unto his taunt belly.

He finally relented—“Enough, I’m good, I’m good.”

“Let me know when you want more.” I pulled out, full of swagger, barely able to stand.

We washed up in the restroom.

“When did you start spanking?” he asked, rubbing his torso with a washcloth. “That was new.”

“Got some new tricks, I guess,” I said, adjusting water temperature for a shower.

“Not usually my thing, but that worked.”

“Always innovating.” I soaped myself, admiring the body of the straight boy I fuck.

Cleaned and restored by bourbon, I reclined on the bed. Todd lay next to me, Farahnaz poised on his hips.

“So are you done, or do you have another fuck in you?” Todd asked her.

“Well, let’s see,” she put a finger to her mouth. “I have fucked you, and Mark, and Jake . . . but I have not fucked this one.” She put her hand on my cock.

“Ready for more, Jefferson?” Todd asked.

“I believe I have room on my dance card, yes,” I replied.

“Good, whatever that means,” Farahnaz smiled. “Now, I liked the way you did that boy. I want that too.”

“I think I have it in me,” I said, rising. At least, I hoped I did.

Farahnaz’s mouth had me instantly hard. Some lube and a condom, and I was in her, again standing beside the bed as I pushed in.

She rested her long legs on my torso. I licked her ankles, tracing my mouth to her toes. I sucked an ensemble of long toes.

Donny licked her large breasts.

“Harder, you can fuck me harder,” Farahnaz moaned. “I know I’m tiny but I won’t break.”

Her foot in my mouth, I grabbed her legs and kicked up the speed.

“That’s what I want . . . you are doing it just right . . .” She moved her head left and right.

I enjoyed the vision of this lovely woman giving herself over to pleasure.

She opened her eyes and looked at me. “I want you to bite me,” she said, “Here.” She pointed to the muscle of her right shoulder. “Bite me slowly, but make it hard.”

“Yes.” I lowered her legs and bent forward, taking her soft skin into my wet mouth. My tongue found the right spot. My teeth bit in—gentle, slow, but unrelenting.

“You have it,” she moaned. “Now fuck me hard.”

I gave it to her.

“Enough,” she said. I released her from my mouth. My teeth were etched deep into her skin, but never close to breaking the epidermis. “You know how to bite,” she smiled.

“I like to bite,” I said, my face revealing my hunger. “I want more.”

“Nice. Then you may bite me here,” she said, pointing to her other shoulder.

I took her flesh in my mouth again, fucking her hard in gratitude.

“Enough.”

“More.”

I was panting.

“Here.” She offered me her forearm. I took it as a hungry dog takes a bone.

“More.”

“Here.” The other forearm.

“More.”

“No. Now you fuck me.”

Denied the flesh I craved, I gave her a sound fucking. She drew Donny’s cock into her mouth, moaning. I held her tiny waist as I fucked.

When the three of us fell apart, it was like waking from a dream.

“I will bite you again,” I said.

“Oh, I want to be bitten by you again and again,” she smiled, kissing me.

It was, all told, as fine a night as one could hope.

Or was it?

Mitzi had misgivings.

We spoke as she left. She really enjoyed seeing me with Donny, and she liked Farahnaz. The parties, she felt, are great.

But given recent events, she wondered: was she cut out for this? Can she really share part of her life with a man who shares his with so many?

What if, she fretted, she really liked me?

sex
sexblogs
group sex
bisexuality
gay
transgender
foot fetish