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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 poker oyna 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.
Oh, there were a dozen rejoinders I could have use in answer, comments to make it a humorous moment, lightening the mood. But, not this night; no, this night, I hugged her tight to me, relishing her body’s feel against mine, drowning in her scent, sinking into a restful night of sleep.
We both played decently that next day, finishing near noon. On a whim, we decided to check out and go home a day early so that we could find the perfect outfits to wear to Sharon’s Halloween Party that weekend.
“So, what do you think you going to go as,” Ali asked as we crossed the state line, back into Louisiana.
She was, of course, referring to my costume I would wear to the party.
“Not sure,” I mused, “Though if we use the truth-in-packaging rule, I should go as a lesbian whore,” not necessarily a un-truth, I thought after I said it.
“Well, hell then, that would make two of us, wouldn’t it?” Ali observed.
“How ’bout one of us goes as Cat Woman and the other as Xena, Warrior Princess?” I suggested.
Moving her eyes to glance at me, Ali smirked a bit, adding her thought; “No hidden meaning there now, is there?” laughing aloud afterwards.
I hadn’t thought about it that way but I guess she was dead-on right about that.
The three of us arrived at Sharon’s around eight that Saturday evening.
How it became three was the revelation that Sami didn’t have plans for that evening, and she was planning on just watching some TV back at the dorm. Ali thought that she should consider joining us at Sharon’s party, and when she talked with me, I agreed.
Sami was thrilled to join us and the three of us thought it only apropos that we go as a ‘matched set’; since Sami canlı poker oyna was the tallest of us, she would be Xena, and Ali and I would be two of her ‘warriors’, not a stretch by a long-shot.
We dressed at the gallery, after we closed that afternoon, a busy afternoon at that. We kept new works by various artists on a two-week show schedule and had a long list of those who wanted us to be their gallery. Not wanna’be artists, but solid talents that needed their big break. We were selling a lot of works and artists want to be where the action is, and for now, we were that.
“Damn sugar, you look smoking hot,” Ali commented when Sami had costumed up, and she was right, she was smoking hot, indeed. Ali and I didn’t look bad either, I must say, the attire being very sexily revealing.
“Thanks,” Sami said, “I hope I don’t disappoint your friends,” revealing the bit of trepidation she was feeling at being included at the last minute, though we had no problem with Sharon about it.
“Sure, bring Sami along, she’s more eye-candy for the boys,” Sharon remarked.
We had not shared, with Sharon, our off-work relationship with Sami, nor did we plan to. Sharon keeps no secrets, and this was private, of no concern to her.
Kissing Sami first, Ali asked if she’d like to spend the night with us, at the big house.
“When have you ever asked and I’ve refused,” Sami said, smiling at us.
“Don’t want you to think we take you for granted, baby,” I contributed.
“You guys can take me any way you want,” her face smiling, but her voice serious.
“Remember that you said that,” Ali jokingly warned, laughing a bit.
“I will,” Sami said, again, her tone serious.
As was always the case when Sharon threw a party, her parents were away, this time it was to Mexico for a long weekend at Cancun. There were costumes ranging from the very basic, togas, to the extravagant, Marie Antoinette and Louis the XIV, and the like. Many were revealing, both men and women alike, some, not so much.
Our little trio seemed to be a hit with the guests, and we had plenty of dance offers, most of which we accepted. If the asker was unknown to us, then we tended to beg off, feeling more comfortable with the husbands and boyfriends that we knew.
Around eleven or so, we looked for Sharon to say our goodnights to her and to thank her for the party, but once again, she was nowhere to be found.
“She’s not in her bedroom,” Ali said, “I’ve already checked the upstairs.” We had split up to look for her in an effort to save time, but to no avail.
“Anyone think to check the pool house?” Sami suggested. The pool house was closed for the season, and would normally have been locked and closed up for the coming winter.
Located out of sight from the main property and house views, it was tucked behind some huge Magnolias and Azalea bushes at the far end of the pool area. Eschewing the door, Ali crept to the side of the pool house, a cabana really, having to stand on her tip-toes to peek in the window while Sami and I just stood there, in the dark.
Holding a finger to her lips to indicate silence, she motioned for us to join her but to do so quietly. Rising on our tip-toes as she was, Sami and I peeked through the gap that the short curtain provided.
Sharon was having a ‘boys’ night, it appeared.
She was lying on her back, lying on top of a guy as he fucked her from underneath, his cock seemingly long enough not to provide a problem in doing that. The guy that was fucking her held both of her boobs in his hands as his hips thrust his dick into her.
Standing on either side of Sharon’s head were two more guys, one the husband of a classmate of Sharon and Ali. Taking a turn with each as she was getting fucked, Sharon was sucking the other two at the same time.
You’re damned right we watched; it was hot!
The friend’s husband orgasmed first, Sharon eagerly sucking it all down and without missing a beat, she switched to the other guy, getting him to come quickly afterwards. All the while, her fucking machine kept on fucking away, pumping his cock into her as if there were no tomorrow.
As if rehearsed, the three of us lowered ourselves at the same time, and silently crept away, back towards the party.
“That was hot, you guys,” Sami said, breaking the silence.
“Ya think?” I said, my crotch itching to be touched.
“Remind me, Lynn, to suggest to Sharon that she might want to get longer curtains for that window,” Ali said as we began our walk to the car.
“Or, not,” Sami said, her face in a huge, leering grin.
Grinning with her, Ali and I said, in unison, “Or not!”
This night, it was Ali and I who pleasured Sami, making her the object of our passions.
Laying her between us in our bed, we tasted her in every way we could. Her hands lovingly held onto our heads as we left wet trails internet casino of tongue exploration behind us, as we kissed our way to her sweet, young pussy.
Funny how the math works out, I remember thinking after our first time with Sami; she was ten years younger than me and when I was her age, twenty-two, she would have been twelve, about the age she began her night games with her cousin.
She wouldn’t have been a blip on my radar when I was twenty-two, but now, ten years later, she was more than a blip for Ali and me.
Ali and I double-teamed our little Sami’s fine, young pussy that first time, that night. Crawling between Sami’s legs, Ali’s tongue found its way into Sami’s warm slit while I held her love-bud between my lips and teeth, alternately sucking and biting her clitoris.
I was curled up, my back to Sami as my mouth worked her over; reaching to my ass with her hand, Sami began rubbing my crack, her finger straining to reach my nether regions. Scrunching backwards, I moved my ass closer to her which allowed her to finger my pussy, her long slender fingers driving deep into me
“Oh, oh, oh, don’t stop, oh, DAMNIT TO HELL,” she screamed into the dark, cool night when her climax burst free.
Lifting her head from between Sami’s legs, Ali reached for me to kiss and we did, tasting Sami on our lips; a very good taste was this Sami-girl, I thought.
It was to be an early night for the three musketeers this night, but before we called it an evening, Sami insisted that she be allowed to pleasure us, to taste us, one after the other.
Well, what’s a poor girl to do but honor that request, right?
“Got any plans for after graduation?” Ali asked, off-handedly, as the three of us were finishing breakfast, lingering over our coffees. We had worked up an appetite last night, that’s for sure.
“I’ve applied to Graduate School,” Sami said, after she swallowed the sip she had just taken, “So, I’m hoping I’m accepted but even if I am, I’ll still need to find a full time job and work my graduate courses around that.”
“You’re not thinking about returning home, to Jackson?” Ali asked further.
“Lord no, Ali, to return home would mean I’d have to go back into the closet and I’m not willing to do that,” Sami firmly stated to Ali, to us.
“Would you consider working for us, full time, as the manager of the gallery?” Ali suddenly asked.
Sami eyed us both, in turn, waiting for the punch line to what, I’m sure, she thought a joke.
“You’re serious; the both of you, you’re serious,” she finally retorted.
“Yep,” I simply said, Ali nodding in agreement with my terse answer.
“I’d love to stay with you guys, to continue working with you at the gallery,” she said, her eyes tearing a bit with happiness.
“Well, then I suggest that the three of us work out a plan and work out your salary and commission structure,” Ali said, rising to retrieve some legal pads from our office, in the library.
We did just that, working out a very sweet business plan that we all liked.
Sami would begin in her new position at the first of the year, after she graduates, after the Christmas Holidays. She would stay with us, at the big house for a short time while she searched for her own place, someplace nearer to the gallery.
It was decided that we’d ask Sharon to use her resources within the real estate community to find Sami a decent, affordable place.
It was decided that we would allow Sami to spread her wings a bit with some ideas she had about marketing “Lynn’s Alley”, about increasing awareness of our presence in the art community now. She would run her ideas past us, at first, but if we felt comfortable with them and her judgment, she’d be given free rein, in time.
This would free Ali and I up immensely and allow us more time to work with our own projects. This would be a good thing, I remember thinking as the plan took shape that Sunday afternoon, and I was even surer that I had made the right decision to take my life down this road.
“Thanks again, you guys,” Sami said to us as we dropped her at her dorm, “I won’t let you two down, I promise,” her eyes smiling at us as she leaned down to look through the car window at us.
“We know you won’t sweetie, otherwise, we wouldn’t have brought it to you,” I said to her smiling face.
“See you tomorrow, Sami,” Ali said, driving off slowly, waving back to her.
“That girl needs a car, Lynn,” Ali said as we returned to the house, “Wonder why she doesn’t have one now?”
“Her family is dirt poor Ali, her academic scholarship was her only chance at going to college. They barely have money for her mother’s medicines, much less to buy or help her buy a car,” I said to her.
“How would you feel about surprising her with a graduation gift of a car?” Ali asked after a short while.
“I would feel wonderful about that, but only if I’m allowed to pay for half of it,” I sternly said.
“Done! We’ll keep it a secret and spring it on her at graduation, okay?” She asked me.
As I’ve said before, Ali’s generosity knows no bounds, and I love her to death for it.
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