It looks like you're new here. If you want to get involved, click one of these buttons!
As you approach Detroit, or at least, what was once Detroit, things get weird. You downloaded a "guide" of sorts to your phone. It's called "Chairman Bow-Wow's Little Red Book". It identifies the first 'anomaly' as a reproduction of the Watts Towers, destroyed in the "Big One" in L.A. eight years ago. From there, it's a kaleidoscope of a ride. You pass a cracked parking lot with a selection of art-cars worthy of Burning Man. A checkpoint "manned" entirely by women, where Reggie is required to vouch that you're not "an agent of the Patriarchy." A stretch of road where young men of many races but identical haircuts sit on lounge chairs on either side, VR goggles and gloves on.
Finally, you pass a sign that used to say "Welcome to Motor City". It's been graffitied so often that it would almost qualify as archaeology to uncover that, though. The most recent layer is a ten-character string that Reggie says is the current password for the 'municipal' wireless.
After you enter the password, "Chairman Bow-Wow's Little Red Book" blossoms into a full-on expert system. It actually speaks up through the phone. What is it that you hope to find, within the holy city?
Reggie answers. "The Thanatopsis Poker Club and Knitting Society, please."
"Ah, yes. Turn left after the giant hot dog statue."
You follow Bow-Wow's instructions past the Tesla R&D facility (gleaming chrome and glass integrated with nanostabilized brick caught in mid-decay), a large plot of cleared land (currently fallow), and an obvious "red light district," where the ladies and gentlemen whose wares are on offer seem very clean and attractive, on the whole.
"Stop in 50 meters. Destination is on the left. And the right. Whatever."
You're in the middle of a former industrial park, the buildings on either side extravagantly painted with murals of flowers and angels and cannabis plants.
Chairman Bow-Wow is a trip. He's a media mogul / VJ / artist. His commentary on the trip was amusing and interactive. He got us here, too.
I open up the door and get out, looking around. "Checkit. Pot art. This place is gonna be great, Gee Gee.." I point out the cannabis. Man, I could go for some bud. Been days since I partook, since I didn't want to bring a blunt on the plane.
"Gee Gee? This place does look neat, though."
From where you stand, you can see several doors. One of them has a hand-painted sign next to it reading "Thanatopsis Poker Club and Knitting Society" in looping, elaborate calligraphy. As you and Reggie lock up and approach the door, a very tall man walks through another door, on the opposite side of the little parking lot. He's at least six-foot-six, a black man in his mid-forties, rail-thin and wearing long dreadlocks tied back with a scrap of cloth. His long linen duster is spattered with layer-upon-layer of paint. "Yo! Visitors or recruits?"
I give him a wave and a nod, answering, "Visitors. Big fans of Eve, wanted to see something great that she helped breathe to life in the real world. I'm Trevian, this is Reggie."
He nods. "Cool. I'm Zero. About to head out and grab some groceries, I'm on cook duty tonight. But, let's see who's around to give you the tour!" He joins you, walking towards the door with the sign.
He swipes an RFID tag across an artfully hidden scanner next to the door and holds it open for you. Inside is a large room that's a part office, part gallery and part shared living space. A few groupings of comfortable chairs and sofas, two long dining tables, a desk with mail slots behind it, a swinging dooor that you guess leads to a kitchen.
Zero says, "Ah! Good. Erica's here." He takes you to the desk, where a young woman is sitting and poking at a computer keyboard in frustration. "Erica, this is Trev and Reggie. Do you have time to give them the tour? I'd do it myself, but I've got to go do some trading if we're eating tonight."
Erica looks up at Zero. "Sure. Not accomplishing anything here, anyway." She shifts her focus to take in you and Reggie. "Won't be as impressive a tour as it might be. The server that drives all the fabrication equipment—the CNC Router, the 3D Printer, all that stuff—is down, so I won't be able to show you the toys in action." She smiles, the frustration still present, but secondary. "Hey Zero, see if Jumbles has a new batch of that mozzarella? That was really good."
Erica stands up, clearly ready to begin, as Zero nods agreement and stoops through the door.
I was about to offer to go out with Zero, just to be nice. But then I see Erica, and she's pretty cool. I like it when girls color their hair. I bet Reggie would be hawt as a brunette (the carpet doesn't match the drapes, if you get what I'm... yeah, I know you do).
When she mentions the server issue, I can't help myself. "What kind of server are you running? I could... take a look." I'm not going to push, but it would be really sweet to see what hardware they're using.
"Hey, if you're good with that stuff, it would be great! My brother usually handles the tech, but he's got a gallery show in Atlanta, so he's down there getting his work installed. Either way, you should definitely stay for dinner, Zero's an amazing cook. And if you stay for dinner, you should probably spend the night. Detroit after dark is not where you want to be if you don't know the lay of the land, and we've got plenty of crash space."
She stops, looks you both up and down. "Unless you're serial killers. Are you serial killers?"
Wow, these guys are cool. I am so getting high with Erica. She has "that look", you know? In response to her question, I look offended. "Us? Hell no. I love cereal." I chuckle at my own joke, it's a thing I do to disarm people, and notify them that I'm harmless. "Seriously, though. We're big into TSol and wanted to check this place out. I think Eve was an amazing woman." I look over at Reggie, then back to Erica, "Wanna show me the server?"
Erica and Reggie both chuckle along with your joke, then Erica leads you to another door off the big common room, to a large server closet. Well, more like a server suite. The amount of computing power in this room is pretty astonishing. You see one group of boxes that are clearly dedicated to math-intensive graphics rendering, a big high-volume internet server attached to several big storage arrays, a few assorted boxes whose use is mysterious to you. Erica points out a group of machines in one corner, another rendering server connected to several cobbled-together machines.
"That's the bastard, there. All the processing for the fab machines is that big box, the controllers are connected to it."
Reggie immediately walks over and starts tracing cables with her eyes, assessing how the whole thing is put together. What do you do?
I walk over towards "the bastard", sizing it up. The case has been painted a few times, which isn't a good idea, affects ventilation and heat if you aren't careful, Cool graphic design, though. Then, I sniff. Sometimes if something overheats, you can catch a smell, sealant, glue, lots of things will give off a weird smell.
After that, I pull out my multi-tool and drop to my knees to check on the server. I'm sure I can figure out what's up with it. While I'm looking at the server, I ask, "Erica, what's your brother's installation like? What kind of art is it?" Artists love talking about art, usually their stuff, but it's her brother, so that should work by extension. Often, artists prefer to gossip about other people's art. Reminds me of gamers, in a way.
Erica lights up. "He does sort of nouveau machinima. He puts together scenes he's engineered from old games, but that's really just the beginning. He repurposes scrap TVs, monitors, even the case from an ancient Game Boy, and installs the files so that they run when you interact with the objects, somehow. It's cool stuff, he's getting to be quite the golden boy in some circles."
Reggie asks, "What about you, Erica? What sort of art do you make?"
"I do a couple things. I make moving sculptures, little ones usually, from bits and pieces I find in the ruins of the city. I paint. And, I do, well, performance art."
No plastic or glue or sealant smell, nor the sharp odor of melted solder. No obvious sounds of distress from fans or any of the few moving parts. You open the case with a little difficulty because of the paint, and start to look inside. Storage is an array of sold-state drives, and there are no obvious problems from a visual inspection.
As I'm prying the panel off the server, "That's keen. I love the mix of tech and creation. Did Eve see any of your pieces? And what kind of performance art do you do?" I'm going in to check this out, after I check to make sure the power's off, of course. I'll start pulling drives, looking for bad connections or anything physically wrong.
"I came to Thanatopsis just after Eve got sick. I mean, we didn't know she was sick, but we do now. Gino convinced me to come join him. So, I never met Eve, but I did send her a few things. A painting, and a little wind-up fiddler I bricolaged out of bits and pieces."
She gives a Mona Lisa smile at the question about her performance art. "I'll show you some video, later." Reggie quirks an eyebrow at you and gives Erica an appraising look.
Reggie's finished her appraisal and joins you. Between the two of you, you should be able to figure this out, right?
So, the difficulty here will be an 11. I'll roll 4d6 for Reggie's Organized Mind, you'll roll 3d6 for Trevian's Tinkerer. You'll keep the best three out of those seven dice.
Let's fix the server!
(Rolled: 4d6. Rolls: 4, 6, 4, 5. Total: 19)
(Rolled: 3d6. Rolls: 1, 3, 1. Total: 5)
I'm out of my depth a bit. But, Reggie's got my back. That's a 15.
In the end, it's not really anything technical, per se. Reggie notices that a piece of optical fiber cord that leads from the server to the junction that feeds into all the device controllers is kinked, and points it out. You find a replacement and install it, then clean out the inside of the server with compressed air before putting it back together and rebooting. The screen shows green for connections to all seven of the devices.
Erica beams. Gives you and Reggie both a hug and a kiss on the cheek, then hands each of you five little smooth round wooden tokens, with "Wooden Nickel" stamped on one side, and a 3-D barcode on the other. "That's our private currency, here in the PDR. Work credits, mostly. I'll take you to the market in the morning. You are spending the night?"
Reggie looks at you for a decision. It's clear she wants to stay.
I nod like 'of course', "You bet. I mean, how else can I buy some fat loot with my wooden nickels?" Erica smells nice. Is that body wash? I love her hair. I know I mentioned that, but yeah. I look over at Reggie, "Isn't her hair cool?"
Reggie agrees. "Very cool" She enjoyed the hug from Erica.
"So, tour. We'll start with my space." She leads you out to the hall, then to a corrugated metal stairway up to the second level of the building. Opens a door. Her atelier is a jumble. Canvases in different states of completion. Boxes and overflowing drawers of parts. Gears, little motors, tin toys and one fire-scarred Furby. Erica shows you a few works-in-progress.
A little Gojira composed of watch gears, milled pieces of leaf-springs from cars, and the ancient remains of one of those flint-and-steel spark makers that were used to light gas stoves back in the day.
A painting, almost pixellated, of a beautiful woman seemingly pleasuring herself against the gun turret of a tank.
Then, with an impish grin, she starts a video file playing on the big wall-screen.
It's "performance art" in that she's wearing an elaborate mask and intricate body paint that makes her shimmer in a moire flicker. It's also her having enthusiastic sex with two masked-and-painted people. One male, one female.
Reggie draws in a breath.
My jaw's on the floor.
I'm not sure how to react. It's erotic, it's also art. I'm drawn to look at them, but then I look over at Erica, too. And Reggie, because well, Reggie. And Reggie's history, and I'm just...
I swallow quietly, try to collect myself. "Uhm.... wow. That's really impressive. Performance." Not sure where else to take it. Reggie, save me now.
After a few heartbeats of brain lockup, I add, "I think i get it, Erica. It's a statement about social morals and sexuality. Plus, the juxtaposition of one's true self and one's hidden ideal self." i look at Reggie, hoping she gets this next part, "In a way, it reminds me of TSol, how we live out these amazing imagined lives under the guise of an avatar, doing things we only wish we could do in meat space. That's really cool, Erica."
I can't help but watch the video a little longer, "Were you, ah... acting? It looks like you had a. Well, a fantastic time." Is it getting warm in here? Lil T, calm down, bro.
Reggie's ears have gone a little red, a sure sign that she's turned on. "Erica, that... was really beautiful. And, uh, super hot." She tucks her hand into the back pocket of your jeans.
Erica smiles at your analysis. "Those things, Trev, but it's also a little like what we're all doing here with what was left of Detroit. Almost all of the artists here find pieces left behind when Detroit shook itself apart, put them back together to make something beautiful. That piece? It's us admitting that we're a little broken, too, and reassembling ourselves. And yes, it was fun. Lots of fun."
That last sentence? She's looking Reggie right in the eye when she says it. Your girl squeezes your ass, but you have the feeling that she doesn't even know she did it.
There's this mix of heat in here between them, but the words Erica's saying about making beauty out of broken things, that really appeals to me. I smirk at Reggie's ass squeeze, btu respond to Erica, "I think this place is amazing already. Wish I had any talents other than hack-slash-rinse-repeat and an occasional server fix, I'd find a way to move in." I look at Reggie, then back to Erica, "How many artists live here? Any other cool stuff we should check out before spaghetti dinner? And, please don't hate me, but is there a chance I could pitch in for some recreational refreshment of the cannabis variety?" I give her my winningest smile.
It is a very winning smile, and Erica returns it. "No need for a guest to chip in for that." The video is still running, by the way, and it's reached, shall we say, a climax. Reggie squeezes your ass again, then seems to notice she did it and takes her hand out of your pocket.
Erica clicks off the video and walks toward the door, passing very close to Reggie as she does. "C'mon, let's finish the tour. There's a lot to see!"
Yay, some pot! Although, it occurs to me I should hit Erica up for some E or something designer. I'm sure they've got it, and Reggie could enjoy, too. I watch the two of them together, or more like "near each other". It's adorable.
I hang back with Reggie and ask quietly in her ear, "What do you think of Erica?"
"I think I might like to get into performance art," she says, in a husky whisper, "You?"
"I'm into you." I answer without hesitation. "But I'd love to see you perform. I think she's into you."
"Let's see what happens... maybe we can both cross 'Never have I ever had sex with more than one person at the same time' off the list?"
How do I react to this in an appropriate fashion? I don't want to blow things with Reggie, but erhmagerd, I want this! I nod. That's good, right?
Reggie has a gleam in her eye as she takes your hand to pull you through the door after Erica.
"Okay, not everyone's here right now, but I can show you around." And she does.
You meet Deva, who's currently mixing pigments from the various rust and sludge patches from around the city. She's preoccupied with her work, but flashes you a brilliant smile. The canvasses lined up against the walls are washes, like watercolors, showing scenes of nature trying to recapture the city.
Andre is working in a space that looks more like a garage than a studio. He's putting together huge Transformer-like statues out of bits and pieces of abandoned cars.
Regina (yes, Regina) apparently works on a much smaller scale. She's not here right now, but she's got tiny assemblies of 3-d printed pieces organized in bins, and an amazingly detailed array of pervo Tinkerbells and Peter Pans assembled and ready for "finishing touches."
Next, she shows you the "fab" space. Several 3-d printers, a computer-controlled router, even an experimental "nano-assembler" (still not living up to the promise, apparently). Now that you've fixed the server, the various machines are pumping out bits and pieces, undecipherable to you. Something that looks like an arrowhead pops out of the CNC router.
"No time to show you the rest of the spaces. Sgetti sauce is on the stove, which means it's time to be social. Ready?" She's addressing Reggie, not you.
I nod, smile and wave at the new people. Deva's work is really impressive. Simple but vibrant with life. I am really into her work. Can't wait to ask more about it later.
When Erica offers up food, I don't answer. I wait for Reggie, I know she'll be interested. She's interested in just about anything Erica offers right now. I am enjoying the game they're playing.
Reggie makes a sort of "Me Hungry" growl, which Erica definitely notices. Reg glances at Erica.
"I could eat."
"Sounds good to me, too." I bet you're hungry, girl. I smile at Erica and follow her to wherever they eat. "Man, this is like a playground of ideas and inspirations. How long do you get to stay here? Is it like a school?"
Erica leads you back to the big common room, and you smell the food before you get there, that rich aroma of Italian spices and tomato and garlic. About half a dozen people are standing around, drinking wine or beer or coffee, chatting. Reggie makes a quick trip to bring Jack Aubrey's travel cage in from the car.
"We stay as long as it makes sense for us to. There's plenty of space, so as long as folks are contributing and getting along everyone's welcome. Zero's been here since the beginning, worked with Eve to set everything up."
Once Reggie gets back and puts Jack Aubrey's cage down, Erica takes you in and starts introducing you around.
"You've met Zero, Deva and Andre. This is Regina, whose studio I showed you earlier." Regina is a tiny woman, probably not even five feet tall, in her early forties. She looks to be Indian or Pakistani, and a hint of the singsong accent of that area in her voice as she greets you.
"And this is Jose." A broad-shouldered young hispanic man built more like a linebacker than any sort of artist you've seen grips your hand firmly and kisses Reggie's.
"And, last but not least, Darla." A tall, buxom blonde woman smiles and gives you both a hug. "Glad y'all are here!"
As everyone starts migrating toward the big table, Jose says, "Holy shit! Wait, Trevian Marks and Reggie Cooper? Are you still at the top of the leaderboard for Eve's quest?"
I nod and smile to each of them. Darla's accent is adorable. The hug was nice, too, but that's probably because the heat between Erica and Reggie has me sort of fixated on, you know, things.
Jose's reaction takes me aback. I smile, answering lightly, "I dunno, probably? I haven't checked in a few days. You play TSol, man?"
Jose shrugs. "Used to, a little bit. But you'd have come across my feeds even if not. That interview you did a couple days ago's been syndicated. It's showing up everywhere."
You wind up sitting between Zero and Reggie, with Erica directly across from you. There's a big bowl of spaghetti and two kinds of sauce, one with meat and one without. A platter of garlic bread and a turned wooden bowl full of salad also sit on the table.
People chatter as the food goes around the table, obviously comfortable with each other and anxious to make you feel welcome.
Reggie asks Darla about her work, but she shakes her head with a smile. "Sugar, we don't have many rules here, but one of the few we do hold to is 'No shop talk at dinner.' There'll be time later, I'm sure." She gives a look that includes both of you. "Where y'all coming from, and where are you goin' to? If you don't mind me askin'.".
Heh, no shop talk is smart. I like that rule. I answer Darla, "We drove down from Lansing, Reggie's home. She's moving to the Research Triangle to go to school. Which, lucky for me, is where I live." I grin. "Reggie suggested this stop, and I have to say, I was worried about the PRD, but this place. It's amazing. Just like all of you." I raise my glass of some microbrew that Jose suggested, "To new friends."
Everybody raises their glasses to join your toast.
Reggie says, "I'm with Trev. I can really get behind a place like this. Do you have any problems with security? It's pretty lawless out there, isn't it?"
Zero explains some of the building's security, and the ways that the current residents of Detroit have learned to keep themselves safe. "It's not perfect, mind you, but with a little caution most of the reclaimed areas are actually a lot safer than in the last few years Detroit was actually a city."
As he's talking, you feel something in your lap. At first, you assume it's Reggie being playful, but it's the wrong angle for it to be Reggie's hand, and the wrong shape. You realize that it's a bare foot, coming from directly across the table.
Erica smiles as she takes a sip of wine.
Oh. Oh, that's unexpected.
Lil T, he's ready already. Damn, man, you are so easy. So yeah, in seconds, her foot's rubbing against Lil T all standing at attention. Really, really glad Reggie mentioned us crossing something off our list. Erica's a twee little thing, but there's something about that tight, devious smile of hers, and I've already seen how she is in bed, and that's crazy. Oh man, this might actually have a chance of happening.
I'm trying to pay attention to Zero's security talk. I hope I don't end up having to stand up with a hard-on again. I need to, you know, practice some yoga or something. Something to help me calm Lil T down.
I don't touch Erica's foot, but I give her a look like 'I know what you're up to. I don't disapprove.'
The talk shifts to the soccer team Andre and Jose play on. Apparently they're very enthusiastic, but not very good, and some of the stories are pretty hilarious.
Apparently, one particular story, about their goalie stopping a ball with his crotch and the resultant girlish scream, gives Reggie an idea and you feel her hand on your thigh. You feel her finding Erica's foot, and she chokes on her wine, a little cough. Her hand stays there, though, stroking you and Erica both.
Reggie looks at Erica. "You all seem to have a lot of space. Are the living quarters nice?"
"Very. I'll show you guys mine later, if you want..."
When Reggie reaches over, I freeze, just for a second. But then, she's touching me and Erica and I'm in heaven. Lil T is about to bust out, no lie. Oh man. I'm enjoying the soccer story more than I should, I bet. Laughing and smiling and this is the best dinner ever.
When Erica says she'll show us her, ahem, quarters, I don't quite choke on my beer. But I work into a chuckle, and do not respond audibly. I'm sure Lil T did the talking she wanted to hear. I look over at Reggie. I swear, I'm like a kid who's making his Christmas list. "Can I have it? Can I? Can I? I'll share!"
To your disappointment, Erica's foot leaves your lap. She stands to get another bottle of wine from the rack, and refills your beer from a big 3-liter growler in the fridge. Reggie, perhaps realizing that you might be a little too close to the edge, stops playing, too.
"Oh. Do you all mind excusing us for a minute? We should grab our bags if we're staying over." You don't bother with coats, since the car's close. Once you're outside, Reggie gives you a fierce kiss and says, "Just so you understand, we are not setting a precedent here, but I would really like for the two of us to get a little piece of performance art tonight." She opens the car and hands you your bag, then grabs her own.
It's cold, so you head back in quickly, where it's warm and smells like spaghetti and sounds happy.
"Not setting a precedent, got it." I repeat, crisp and clear, as sure as her. I'm glad we're both clear, and I grab my bag. I lean into her ear as we're walking back quickly in the chill. "I think maybe I should go fire one off beforehand. You two have me so worked up, Reggie. Especially you." I kiss her cheek. This is gonna happen.
Holy shit, this is gonna happen.
Reggie whispers back. "You are not 'firing one off' all by yourself, Trev. You're going to be my dessert. And if they have dessert, you're going to be my second dessert."
Back at the table, everybody tells stories, bullshitting about their day or recalling something from the past. Trev, when it seems like 'your turn,' what story do you tell to give these people some idea of who you are?
Hot damn, I love this woman!
I chuckle and answer back, "Okay, I'm your milkshake. You give me a shake, I'll provide some milk." No, my milkshake does not bring all the boys to the yard, thank you very much.
We get back inside and I've calmed down, so has Lil T. They start telling stories and want one from me? Cool. I think I'll roll out the story about the time Jake and I went out ballin' and I tried to earn a little scratch betting on the games. We took three games in a row, earned four hundred bucks. Then this guy, Jermaine who was pretty tall, he talked me into going double or nothing. He and his buddy, Akintunde, they mopped the floor with us. It was the worst drubbing I'd ever gotten, and Jake was even better than me, and he said he'd never lost that bad.
Turns out, as Jose might have figured out, those guys were the sons of Magic Johnson and Darryl Dawkins, pros for the Hornets. They were hanging out "in cognito", decided to show us a thing or two. And yeah, I even admit that Julie, the girl I was dating at the time, she left with Akintunde. It was a lose-lose situation.
Most of the stories are like that. Self-deprecating and funny. Reggie talks about the time her mom talked her into trying out for the cheerleading squad, and Darla's eyes dance with delight when she describes the way the entire pyramid came crashing down.
There is dessert. Tiramisu, in fact. Zero says, "I picked this up from Mama Zabretti. The rest of the family makes custom chassis for high-performance golf carts. She bakes, and oh my, does she bake."
When everyone has expressed their appreciation, Zero offers to take you up to your room and grabs linens from a closet along the way. The room is big, but decorated plainly, clearly waiting for someone's creative spirit to imbue it with life. There's a small en-suite bathroom. "Decided every room should have a bathroom, so there wouldn't be squabbles about waiting for the shower or whatever," Zero explains. "Oh, and you're welcome to stay as long as you like, but from tomorrow on, you'll have to take work duty. And do find me before you go, whenever that is. I've got something for you."
He turns back as he's leaving. "Erica's room is up one flight. There's a daisy painted on the door." He might have winked. You're not sure.
I head in and drop my bag on the bed, turn to her. "So, uh... did they let you keep the cheerleader outfit?" I pull her into a kiss, keep my arms around her. "I think everyone down there knows we're going to try and sleep with Erica. Not that she tried to hide it. These guys are pretty tight. You know, we could hang out here a few days. I mean, if you wanna."
"There will be no sleeping. Also, no trying. The signals are clear." She reaches down to unzip your jeans. "Still feel like you need a little warmup?"
I give a curt nod, "I'm already burning up, but if you don't want me to pop in two minutes flat, I could totally use some dessert time." Oh shit, I'm going to get hot and bothered whenever I think of dessert for a while. Fuck, I hope she goes down on me. I just want to hold her head and see if she'll swallow everything. I love this woman. And I'm about to share her with a really kinky little girl.
Suffice it to say, Reggie likes to swallow her dessert, and she really enjoys milkshakes. After you've cleaned up and she's swigged some mouthwash, you head up to the next floor and find the door with the daisy. It's ever-so-slightly ajar.
You know what they say. An open door is an invitation. What do you do?
I look back at Reggie and give her a sly smile, then gently push open the door, "Hello, Erica." I walk in, grab for Reggie's hand and pull her with me. "I hope you don't mind visitors."
ADULT CONTENT BEGINS BELOW
Erica's room is a riot of colors. Clearly at least some of the flowers that grace the outsides of the two buildings occupied by the Thanatopsis Poker Club and Knitting Society were painted by her hands. She's sitting in a comfy looking but oddly shaped swivelling chair, in a loose silk kimono, reading a book. She swivels toward you when she hears your voice. "Ah. Welcome to my lair. I almost borrowed your cat, so I could have it in my lap to complete the evil villain picture, but I'm a little allergic."
The kimono's hanging open slightly, and you catch a glimpse of nipple.
The grin that splits my face at what we've found is huge. "Oh... you look pretty evil to me." I let go of Reggie's hand, hang back a bit to let her move up if she wants. "Reggie and I talked. We would like to, ah, do a performance piece. With you."
"Egggselent." Erica temples her fingers and twiddles her fingers together. She shifts out of the cartoon villain persona for a second. "I think maybe no video, though, since you two are celebrities? At least for some definition of celebrities."
Reggie does take a step forward, and Erica stands, letting the kimono fall completely open. It wasn't obvious in the video, because of the body paint, but she's completely shaved. Her crooked grin takes you both in. "So, how shall we begin?"
Dayum. Erica's a tiny little thing, but she has some nice shape to her. And the video didn't show her, uhm, her piercing. I mean, yes, the nipple rings, I saw those. I mean, the other one. That shit had to hurt. But it doesn't look new. The paint covered the dragon tatt on the left side of her tummy. Her tummy has that beautiful model's shape, shadows in the right places.
If Reggie and Erica are all excited about this, I'm walking up behind Reggie, because holy shit, I have to see this. I start working at the base of Reggie's shirt, working it up enough to show her sculpted abs, hard from years of running and working out. "You know what they say... ladies first."
Reggie lets you undress her, mostly from behind, while Erica watches. You take her shirt over her head first, then unsnap and remove the bra. She presses back against you while you work the button and the zipper of her jeans, and moves away so you can slide them down over her hips, taking her panties with them. She switched into low-heeled slip-on pumps before you ventured up to Erica's, so shoes aren't a problem.
Once your elf is naked, Erica shrugs out of the kimono entirely and moves forward to take Reggie's hand, lead her to the bed, which is a large futon on a low platform. "You might want to let your little friend out of his prison, Trev, even if you just want to watch for a while."
They stand next to the bed, slender Erica and athletic Reggie in sharp contrast but fitting together well. They kiss. Tentative at first, but not for long.
I forgot to breathe from about the time they joined hands to the first kiss. I think my brain exploded during the kissing, at some point. I strip down and head over to that comfy chair, swivel it to watch them. So happy I was dessert, I don't have a driving need to get off. I can just enjoy this.
Greatest day of my life.
I've got a front row seat to the best show ever. I cannot believe this is happening. My elf, this crazy hot art girl. Me. It's all okay. This is Penthouse Letter shit right here.
After that long, slow kiss, they lay down on the bed. Reggie lets Erica take the lead, and the girl with the ash-green hair shows no hesitation. Her mouth is on Reggie's left nipple and you see the right harden in response almost immediately. Erica takes her time, though, and it's clear both of them are showing off for you a little bit, enjoying the audience.
Erica trails kisses down a path you've followed more than once, lavishing attention on Reggie's defined abs, the ridges of her pelvic bones, the upper reaches of her inner thighs. As she finally dives in to sweep her tongue along your lover's pussy, she settles with her hands on Reggie's hips and her ass up in the air, pointed directly at you.
You recognize the sounds Reggie's making, although you've never heard them from this vantage point, and see that the blissful expression on her face is just as you'd imagined.
Trev, what is it that happens, after Reggie's first orgasm of the night, that motivates you to get out of that comfy chair and become a participant and not an observer? Does one of them say something, or do something, or has being dessert just finally worn off?
Listening to Reggie from this far away is sweet torture. I watch as she writhes on Erica's bed, but my eyes keep drifting to Erica's ass. That dragon tattoo of hers was some real work. The tail sweeps across the inside of her thigh and ends up swirled near the bottom of one cheek. It's gorgeous ink, almost alive. And the ring in her labia, as she twitches back and forth, I can't help but think of "going for the brass ring".
So hey, I don't need any more invitations. I've seen enough, I'm calling an audible and putting myself in, coach. I walk up to the edge of Erica's futon, right up behind our hostess. While I'm looking down at my lover, I put a hand on Erica's dragon hip, and with the other, I gently probe inside her wetness, flicking the ring, and making sure she feels my hardness behind her.
Reggie is still shuddering with the aftershock of her orgasm when you push your fingers into Erica. Your first flick against her labia ring is rewarded with a surprised yelp of pleasure, and she pushes back against your hand.
Reggie slides out from under the green-haired girl, gives her a deep kiss. She stands and moves to join you, leaning in for a kiss. After a long moment, she breaks off the kiss and looks down to where you're pleasuring Erica with your fingers. A lewd smile breaks across her face. "Erica, how do you want Trev's cock? Do you want to taste him, first, while I lick your sweet naked pussy, or do you want him balls-deep, right now?"
Erica chuckles throatily. "I think I'd like him in my mouth first, Reggie. Especially if you're going down on me while I do it." Neither of them is consulting you, but I suspect you don't mind.
Erica arranges herself so that she's on her back, with her head at the foot of the bed. Reggie climbs between her legs and starts nibbling at her thighs and the lips of her pussy, while Erica reaches for you, bringing you close so she can take your balls into her mouth and stroke your cock with her right hand.
I don't mind being their object, not at all. It's hot, plus it will help keep things cool with Reggie. As much as I want this menage a trois, I do not want to ruin things between Reggie and me. And, as a much smaller concern, I don't want to eff up the quest, either.
Right now, though. I'm looking down at Erica's pretty green eyes and watching her red lips and tongue on me, then running my eyes along her body to watch Reggie feast on her. So glad I was dessert, this alone is enough for me to pop.
After a few strokes from Erica, I'm reaching down to run my hands along her chest, idly playing with the nipple rings, lightly running my nails across her sensitive skin. "Erica, you are a pretty, pretty girl. Reggie and I think you're wonderful, and we're going to make you feel incredible tonight. My elf's already said there will be no sleeping tonight, so I hope you don't tire out on us."
Reggie looks up at the "elf" comment, eyes twinkling. "She also tastes good, Trev." Soon, Erica is unable to continue sucking you, she's in the throes of her own orgasm.
After she calms down, she looks affectionately at Reggie. "Seems like we owe someone an orgasm, Reggie."
Reggie smiles, then finally addresses you directly. "Trev, I want you to know this is not a trick question. As far as I'm concerned, there's no worm in this apple, so don't worry, okay? What do you want, right now?"
I look back and forth at the two of them. There's no choice, when we leave. But now, there is, and I know exactly what I want. I sit down on on the futon and scoot back to the pillows, "I want what any sane man wants. Both!" I'll beckon Reggie over to one side of me, urge Erica to sit on the other side, and see if I can coax them into, you know, both going down on me. Because, seriously, I could die tomorrow. And this. It would make my life so much more complete.
It must be your night, if that wasn't already obvious. The girls improvise a duet on your instrument that goes well beyond what you imagined. Lips, fingers, tongues. You know it can't really last forever, but it does seem that time just stops. Also, maybe, your heart, once or twice.
Here's the situation when you finally blow. Reggie's straddling your chest, her ass poised about eight inches above your face, with your dick in her mouth and her hands in Erica's hair. Erica is between your legs, licking and nibbling at your balls, one hand urging Reggie to take you deeper. Just when you reach the point of no return, you hear Reggie call for Erica to join her.
Your elf takes you out of her mouth, and two different-sized hands stroke you to completion. Your cum jets across four breasts, two tummies, two eager pairs of lips.
Speaking of lips, Erica licks hers. "Yum..."
I watch them together. Can't say I've been super thrilled with, you know, cum play or whatever it's called. But watching them share mine... it's unreal. Lil T is down for now, but I can tell he aint out. I hop up and head to the bathroom to wash myself off, bring back towels for each of them, handing them to Reggie, then Erica, "It's halftime for Lil T. If you girls wanna keep going, go on. Otherwise, I just wanna cuddle and recoup for the second half." If Reggie wants to play with Erica, I'll watch on the chair. If cuddling's in mind, I wouldn't mind wrapping my arms around Erica and spooning with her for a bit.
You do cuddle for a while, a Trevian sandwich with two very delicious pieces of bread. The three of you even doze off for a couple minutes in there somewhere, despite what Reggie said earlier about sleep. The rest of the night is something of a blur, but a few specific moments do stay with you.
What's the capper, Trev? The one thing you do this night that tops even the tandem blowjob? The thing you're not sure Jake will believe actually happened, even if you decide to tell him?
Well, my personal highlight is when I finally mounted Erica. Wow, that sounds primal, but it pretty much was. The moment that stuck in my brain was Erica's face buried between Reggie's legs. Reggie hit this sort of sexy little whine, then reached out for my hand. So I've got one hand on Erica's "dragon hip", the other holding Reggie's, and it was this crazy connection between us. I could feel the ring in Erica and I was looking into Reggie's half-lidded eyes when I finally hit number three. It was sublime.
The two of you do return to your room sometime in the wee hours, grab a few hours of real sleep. When you wake up, Reggie is still sleeping, a smile on her face. She wakes a few minutes later. "Wow... just... wow. I always imagined that a threesome would just be awkward." Apparently, your moment was hers, too, because after you talk it through for a while, she agrees. "It was like we were in an electrical circuit and the connection closed, current flowing through all three of us, you know?"
You lay there, contentedly chatting, for a while, until Reggie declares that she's hungry, then take a quick shower, get dressed and head downstairs to see who's around.