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High on a Bluff

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She sat in my lap, humping my finger for all she was worth. She was crazed, totally out of control. The wail of a wild animal, a small pebble in the wrong place under my hip, both woke me up. I looked at my watch, 6:18. Damn. Great dream. Why do I always have to wake up just at the best parts?

I grabbed a yogurt from the cooler and sat on the low flat rock on the other side of the fire, small flame, mostly embers now. A piece breaks off, flames shoot up. Down below, the ocean waves crashed. Across the valley, in the notch between those 2 peaks, was the top of the sun just sneaking out of its bed for the morning. Hope it got a little better rest than I did. The foggy cool air blew against my bare back, my naked hips. Not cold, but comfortable. The hard rock pressed against the bare souls of my feet. I wiggled my toes.

A bite of yogurt lay on my tongue, sliding from side to side. I looked down at Susan laying on her girly L.L. Bean sleeping bag, unzipped and laying wide open, like her legs. It said a lot about her, tan on the outside, light pink on the inside. She even had her pillow from home with a matching pink pillow case still laying perfectly parallel to the edge of the sleeping bag. This stark contrast to my hand-me-down boy scout sleeping bag, the inside covered in images of all the merit badges, still smelling like Valley Forge or some long ago camping trip. I forget what my uncle had told me. My pillow crooked, laying half in the dirt. On the other side lay Sam, actually Samantha, laying on her stomach, her pale skin, still shapely hips, a small dimple, the smooth sway of her back, looking so lovely against the dark brown of her sleeping bag, her face pressed against her arm.

What a rat pack we were. Many decades past our youth, it was still nice to get away for a weekend alone. Since we shared a house, it wasn’t like we weren’t alone with each other all the time. Just nice to get out and lay around naked under the sky.

Sam’s Aunt had owned these nearly thousand acres for years. It was her great, great, grandmother that had claimed this land after her husband died when their wagon train had been attacked on the way to the gold fields far to the east of here. There was only one road into this part of the property, and it wasn’t nice. Even in Susan’s Jeep, it felt a lot like we were in a covered wagon as we bounced over the dimpled holes and parted ridges that formed the ruts.

My tongue lapped the last bite of yogurt from the bowl of the spoon. Susan’s hand rested between her legs. Another drop picked up by the tip of my tongue. Her finger pressed inside. The drop rolled along my tongue. Her eyes opened and watched me looking at her.

I tossed a small stone. It landed just below her navel, against her forearm. “Penny for your thoughts.”

“Wondering which you’d like to lick? That yogurt or …”

“You baby.”

Her knees spread even further apart. Her finger rolled lazily over her clit. “Well?”

“You looked mighty content just touching yourself. Was just enjoying you with my eyes.”

One of her fingers continued to circle the clit, one from the other hand slowly teased the labia. Her head leaned forward to watch herself. The fingers spread her lips, slid up and down the insides edges.

“Bet you can’t resist much longer?”

I couldn’t and she knew it. My fingers squeezed a nipple, the other hand stroked the underside of the breast. A little of the yogurt flavored moisture from my mouth on a finger lubricated my nipple. The smooth flat purple rock between my legs had become darker, become wet.

Sam now watched Susan, her hand cupping a breast with a finger rubbing her nipple. Soon, her mouth closer to Susan, a finger sharing the touch. A tongue replaced the finger, a touch become a lick, then a kiss. Susan released a low groan, a erzurum escort louder moan. Sam’s tongue dug deep. A wail by the fire like in my dream, another from the far away trees. Sitting up between Susan’s legs, Sam’s arms out to her sides in celebration, she let the morning sweetness slide down her tongue into her mouth.

A clear cool stream ran through the property with a small shaded pond off to one side. We used the stream to rub our hands over each other, pretending to slide soap over our skin, paying attention to all parts, all being special. We would take turns holding each other, legs parted pointing upstream, letting the swift current make love to us, the small waves washing over our mounds, through us, purifying us, the Earth Goddess restoring us. Afterwards we would lay, still wet, on our towels, letting the rays of the sun slowly dry our skin. Looking more like lovely aging nymphs, we pranced across the grassy land, carefree, touching, exposing, loving each other as the need flowed over us.

Sadly, we walked back to the camp, hand in hand. We knew this was our last day, that after lunch, we would have to begin our drive home. Of course we would have many more weeks like this one, right here.

As a couple, made of three women, we often attracted attention. Sometimes arms wrapped around a waist, or hands between the three. A kiss here, then there. We often caught the timid look, an obvious stare, an open mouth. We tried to just ignore it. Having been a couple of two women for a long time, I had gotten used to the stares. Now that Sam made our circle larger, it was causing attention like before. Time made that pain, more a discomfort, fade like a boo-boo for a child.

It was a nice vacation for Susan and me years ago. A great resort in the desert, warm days, cool nights, great food, and bedroom pleasures. A few more days left before returning to our place in the Napa Valley, a small vineyard, a nice house. A far cry from our early days with the stress of work, never having much money, the stares. The more recent years had been a dream, one I never wanted to wake up from. I’d been in several relationships with women before Susan that were slightly worse than being alone. I often would stand by a dumpster waiting for the truck so I could just toss myself in as it was being picked up. The royalty from my writing now making nice salve for all the old dreary days.

Laying on the chase lounge, sun warming my skin, I remembered once talking to a woman about exploring poorly formed feelings for other women. Not a clue in the world why that floated through my mind. She had been reading some erotic lesbian stories and developed a curiosity about what that might be like. There seemed to be a good female friend she wanted to approach, but was terrified that she would wreck the friendship. I’d offered some suggestions how she could ‘test the waters’ so to speak.

Susan lay on a lounge chair close to me, arms dangling, her fingers intertwined with mine.

“So nice being with you Kate.”

“Can’t imagine anything better.”

Our hands swung back and forth a little. I could feel the love flow back and forth through the connection of our fingers. Fingers are a good conductor of love.

A woman passed by our feet. “Why me?” She was crying softly, a few gasps and sobs. “Why?” She wiped her face next to her nose with a finger. If fingers are the conductor of love, tears are the conductor of sadness. Often purifying.

I looked at her. She looked back as her finger left her face. “Sorry. Not a good day I guess.”

“Want to talk?”

“It’d ruin your day.” She took a big sip of her Corona. “But thanks.”

“You’re making me want one of those. Grab a chair.

“I want one too.”

A waiter passed by. “Excuse me eskişehir escort Sir. We’d like 3 real cold Coronas. No glasses. Just the bottle will do.”

“Right away.”

She pulled a chair so it was facing us, between us.

“I’m Samantha, everyone calls me Sam. Thanks. Think I’d like to just shoot the breeze for awhile.”

“Here alone?”

“Seems like it. My girlfriend packed up and left me. Took the car.”


“About an hour ago. She screamed ‘I’m out of your life’ and she was gone. We’d been together for a few years too.”

“Sorry Sam. I’m Kate. This is Susan. We live up in the Napa Valley.”

“The City. Too bad it was in her place. Not going to be fun packing up.”

Seems everyone that lives in San Francisco just calls it ‘The City’, and woe to the person that calls it ‘Frisco’. Probably more than a few tourists have floated face down under the Golden Gate Bridge for making such an utterance.

Sam chugged the warm remains of the old Corona and handed it to the waiter as he handed us icy cold fresh ones still in the bottle with the top removed.

“Our new friend.” I held up my bottle. We all clinked the bottles together and smiled at each other.

Sam stroked the long neck of the bottle as if trying to give it an orgasm.

She stared at the ground like she was reading a book. “The wetness makes me think how my pussy would get. … Sorry, shouldn’t have said that.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” I wiggled my big toe against hers.

“Thanks. You’re being nice.” She started to tear up a little. “Maybe I should be alone for awhile.”

Susan noticed my toe against Sam’s. She did the same to Sam’s other foot. “I would like to believe we might understand. I’ve been dum … left more than once. At our age, probably all of us have.”

“Of course … you’re right. It’s just so fresh. Hard to just say ‘fuck her’ or ‘more fish in the sea’ you know.”

“Do what makes you feel better. Maybe we can have lunch? After you take a nap?”

“I’d like that … a lot. It’s 10:15, maybe if I hide for an hour.”

“We’re in 198, but we’ll meet you right here.” I held up my nearly full Corona. “Not a fast drinker.”

As Sam walked away, I looked over at Susan.

She squeezed my hand. “You’re so kind. That was real nice of you.”

“Check her nice ass wrapped in that skimpy one piece.”

“Yup. Noticed. That and the rest of her fine body. A nice romp.”

“Oh baby, you’re wicked. One of the things I love about you.”

I rolled over. “Any volunteers for putting a little suntan lotion on me?”

Wake up lazy head. Lunch time.” I looked around and found Sam kneeling by the edge of my lounge chair. Her hand resting on my back. Her fingers rubbing, the tips probing the sun warmed and greasy skin.

“Careful. May make you do that forever.”

Susan slapped me on the butt. “Hey? I thought that was my job.”

“Depending on what she’s like between my legs, you might become second string.” I looked at Susan with a huge grin. We all laughed, much to the shock of an couple even older than us that had overheard me. Her mouth was dangling open, concrete marks visible on her chin, and he wasn’t much better off. I was ready to scream for the medics.

Susan rested her hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Well first string. Let’s eat lunch at the restaurant, then a little dessert in the room.”

Lunch was a bundle of laughs, some hand holding, and acting like we’d known each other all our lives. As we walked down the hall, there was no question of what would happen. Sam’s hand had a firm grip on Susan’s hip, and her other arm around my waist.

Susan and I lay on opposite sides of Sam, our faces next to hers, taking turns kissing her lips, parting them with gaziantep escort our tongues, our tongues licking, touching, batting, almost fencing, against hers.

She mumbled something. We stopped long enough for her to say “This feels so … right. To be with both of you.”

Susan and I looked into her gray blue eyes for a moment, nodded our heads yes, and resumed our kissing. Our hands explored her body, her small shapely breasts, her flat stomach, her mound, the indentation of the material over the valley to her soul.

A low soft moan escaped her mouth around our tongues.

While Susan kissed her, I pulled her fabric between her legs to one side letting her labia to rise freely into the air. I rubbed my fingers across it almost as if I were rippling a deck of cards or making that funny noise rubbing a finger over the lips of my mouth. “So pretty.” A finger crossed her clit. A gasp, another moan.

We met for dinner. Sam had a half empty cocktail glass.

I waved. “You look pretty nice with clothes.” I smiled, letting it turn into a big grin. A man at the other end of the bar also smiled and held his glass up.”

The three of us sat in a rounded booth, Sam in the middle.

Susan placed her hand over Sam’s. “Nice to have you between us. Nice to be between parts of you.”

Sam reached over and placed her other hand on mine. “Both of you have helped to take the sting of this morning away. I love you. Hard for me to put it into words.”

Susan and I leaned in and kissed Sam’s face at the same time.

“We talked before dinner and want you to know we would love for you to join us for the night.”

The bright red numerals on the clock showed 1:30, the PM dot now gone. A face, a hand, lay between each others legs. Hard to tell lips of mouths from lips of pussy with the same lightly crusted dried fluids covering them. A radiant glow over everyone as we lay exhausted, almost asleep. Heads shifting to rest on a nearby thigh.

It wasn’t until a few unheard knocks on the door had gone unheard too long, when a maid stood in the doorway and let out a soft “Excuuuseee me! I’ll come back later.”, that we started to wake up.

“9:30. What lazy bums!” Sam slapped my ass. A loud whack echoed through the room.

“Who just killed who?” Susan mumbled still half asleep.

“She mortally wounded me.” I grabbed my chest. “I’llll try to live. Don’t forget me … please.”

That was our first day and night with Sam.

On the way home she sat, all of us talking about our lives, continuing to bond. It was already like a tight knit family, this was just smoothing out the little pills off top of the weave. Stupid jokes, silly sing-a-longs to silly songs on the radio, it was all good. It was all wonderful.

We drove to our place, deciding to leave her things at her ex’s place for a few days. Phone calls are often more comfortable for awhile. After all, with a little laundry, she had plenty of things to wear. And she had us.

“This is a fantastic place. A pool? Oh my God!”

With my arm around Sam’s waist, I lead her into the master bedroom. “Put your things in here. We can move some stuff around in the closet later. Nice king sized bed should be big enough for the 3 of us. Do you have to work tomorrow?”

“Just a struggling photographer. My studio is in The City, but actually I do a lot of landscape photography around here. An Aunt has some land up the coast.”

“There’s large extra room if you want to move your studio here. Not sure what the needs might me. We could help you find a place for it in town. Maybe you could set up a gallery and shop.”

“I can’t believe how both of you have just taken me into your lives. We were strangers, now it feels we have been a family forever.”

The years continued to be wonderful, kind to the three of us. Our long straight hair now starting to accumulate some gray, maybe too much. Our skin not quite as fine as before. With work, our bodies have maintained a little of the youthful shapes we used to have. It was nice aging together. For some, age can be so mean. We were lucky. Lucky to have each other too.

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