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                                  Katya

A Tangle of Limbs

                          by Vivian Darkbloom

   "So, you know tinker toys?" asked Isadora.

   "Of course, mom," replied Katya with annoyed impatience. Seeing
   the two of them, voluptuous mother and gangling daughter, so
   close together brought into sharp relief the contrast between the
   rich, full, pleasant curves of the one, and likewise the equally
   pleasant simplicity and straight lines of the other. Their
   opposite qualities brought out the best features of the each, the
   way a painter contrasts deepness of shadow with gilded
   highlights, or like a hot and sour soup.

   "Well, sex is basically like tinker toys. You have pegs, and you
   have holes, and the peg goes into the hole, like a finger through
   a ring. Simple."

   "So a guy has a peg, and a girl has a hole, and the guy puts the
   peg into the hole," said Katya.

   Isadora smiled knowingly. "Yes, but that's where it gets
   interesting. See, for example, a mouth can be like a hole. But it
   can also be like a peg, and match up with a hole, like this. . ."

   And she bent over and flicked her tongue into her daughter's
   forbidden crevice. Katya gasped with pleasure.

   While Isadora continued to delight her daughter with her tongue,
   Nicole, who had been teething playfully on the head of the snake
   through the fabric, now pulled at the elastic around my waist.

   At this point, the swollen force between my legs was a crimson,
   raging impulse surging to be set free. I could resist no longer
   the teasing and tickling of these merciless females, and
   surrendered as the youngest pulled down my drawers, liberating
   them from my ankles and feet, and proceeded to take me directly
   into the slippery moistness of her tiny little mouth.

   Isadora was probing Katya's vagina with a finger as she slurped
   and slopped with her tongue.

   "Careful, mom! I'm still a virgin, you know."

   Isadora gazed up at her, sadly. "Still?! At your age? How old are
   you now, dear?"

   "Eleven."

   "Where did I go wrong?" sighed Isadora.

   "I think I'm the only girl in my class who hasn't popped it.
   You'd think I was a lesbian or something."

   "Well, dear. That's what I'm here for. To provide you wisdom and
   guidance. Now, there's nothing wrong with being a lesbian."

   "I know, but. . ."

   "But it's high time you got to feel what a climax can feel like
   when you're riding the swollen fullness of male libidinal
   impulse."

   "Huh?"

   "Whilst replete with the plenitude of masculine carnality,
   undulating with internally throbbing male virility in
   freewheeling abandon, a robust fest of unfettered
   saturnalia. . ."

   "Mom, could you possibly use some shorter words, like, that an
   eleven year old girl might understand?"

   Mind you, I could only barely make out this sophisticated
   improbable conversation through the rushing in my ears, and the
   sighs and other sounds of approbation I heard issuing from my own
   mouth in response to the skillfully operating tiny tongue and
   fingers.

   "Sorry, dear!" apologized her mother. "I think what would work
   best is a demonstration. A good mother should provide effective
   guidance in such things to her lovely young daughters!" Glancing
   over at Nicole, who did not seem to require much in the way of
   guidance.

   "Now first, let me demonstrate, and then you can follow in my
   footsteps, so to speak. Here, can you unhook my bra?"

   And the gorgeous beauty of her two pale wondrous knolls sprung
   forth, twin sprights playful with the plush athletic virtues of
   tantalizing delight.

   She shed her panties, revealing the gnarled curls surrounding the
   dripping temptation within, and I felt a surge of thickening
   within the tiny mouth that nibbled so cherishingly below me.

   Isadora hopped up backwards on the bed, and spread her legs
   towards me with a long, meaningful wink. Nicole looked up, and I
   popped from her mouth with a sucking slurping noise. Smiling,
   Nicole led me over to the bed.

   Katya climbed up to where she knelt at her mother's head,
   curiously observing the procedure.

   "That's it, baby. Put him there inside of me, that's it."

   Nicole's tiny fingers guided my larger finger accurately to the
   waiting arms of the wedding ring of flesh that took hold of it,
   the elastic circle of slippery carmine carnality that bristled
   with the tension of anticipation.

   Isadora let out a tiny yelp of delight as I broke through,
   rhythmically working myself deeper and deeper in lengthening
   strokes, each one eliciting a call of approval "Yes, yes, yes,
   that's it, deeper, oh yes!"

   I smelled the rich, warm aroma that her breasts had worked up
   inside the bra, as they lolled joyously free in the open air. I
   ran my tongue down the middle between them, taking one and then
   the other nipple briefly between my lips.

   I felt the enjoyment building below me. Nicole watched with rapt
   attention from beside.

   I would have kissed Isadora's mouth, but her eyes were shut with
   the intensity of cries of passion and building climax, that I
   chose not to interfere. Instead, I leaned over her to where Katya
   kneeled at her head, and planted a juicy kiss on the flat surface
   so skin a few millimeters below her belly button.

   Katya squirmed momentarily at the unexpected affection, then
   turned her pelvis forward to place her opalescent crimson folds
   within range of my eager lips. I dove in, plunging my face into
   her sweet spot, and soon the electricity surged through my body
   between the feminine duet, the two pegs between which I was
   stretched, like a lute string.

   Isadora's eyes opened briefly, and saw that I was enjoying her
   daughter in this manner, which inspired in her a similar craving.

   "Oh Katya, let me taste you. Please, I've got to press your cute
   little clitoris to my lips! Oh, I just love how cute and tiny it
   is."

   Katya shrugged her thin shoulders, and turned over, now face down
   on her knees, so her mother could reach up with her tongue like a
   flame, licking and biting. She reached up and prodded with her
   fingers.

   She was good. Damn, she was good. Soon Katya was moaning with
   equal diligence, the sweet smooth half-moon of her buns bouncing
   across from my face, above the lolling breasts, as I pushed and
   prodded with my hot poker lost inside the tantalizing dark curls
   between Isadora's legs.

   The aroma of feminine arousal arose acridly into my nostrils,
   plucking my string like a Hendrix power chord of sounding from a
   medieval lute.

   Nicole climbed up on her mother's gyrating tummy below me,
   leaning back against her sister's buttocks, and thrust her small
   innocent face in mine, kissing me delicately and lovingly with
   the tiny lips which so recently held my venerable athame.

   I reached out to caress her face and feathery soft hair. "Oh,
   Nicole. I love you," I said, thrusting my flaming sword deeper.

   A supernal lust, a divine concupiscence, a sacred horniness
   burned with white hot intensity within me, from being at the
   central focal point of such a holy trinity.

   Between my legs I felt the wild gushing convulsions as Isadora's
   juicy orgasm filled her chalice. She let out a wild yell of
   surrender, muffled by rhythm of her daughter's labia pressed
   against her lips.

   Nicole's thin body and hands were smooth under my caresses, and
   she reached out in return, as our tongues and lips described
   florid rococo curves and delicate looping filigree, while her
   mother insanely cut loose with another animalistic, gut-wrenching
   climax, threatening to tear out my lower chakra with her torrent
   of release.

   Isadora, the queen of the dance, manifested in the multifarious
   entities and beings of the planet, demonstrating the limitless
   possibilities of Love.

   She pulled away from me. "Get inside of Katya!" she commanded me.

   I strove to follow her order. But the way was riven with peril,
   and other adventures and obstacles lay ahead of me on this path.

   After I had withdrawn my dripping athame from her inner sanctum,
   the tiny recesses of her youngest daughter loomed before me. With
   my tongue already in her mouth as it was, I was powerless to
   resist as a giggling Nicole slid the slippery head of my
   sexuality into her own foremost chamber.

   Like this, we cavorted and turned briefly, until she had
   adequately blessed me and anointed me with the sacred effusion of
   her sweet sensuality.

   Once she was thus satiated, I withdrew once more, but even as she
   crawled out from between me, leaving the child's behind ahead of
   me, there arose before me the sprightly hillocks of curvacious
   temptation, with their valley of delight lurking between. It did
   not further my ultimate quest to observe that the alert Nicole
   had spotted a bottle of lotion, which she was now smearing
   zealously across the valley in question.

   "Put it in here," she directed, coming around behind me so she
   could reach from behind my back and push together her mother's
   breasts around me. I pushed and pulled my core of devilish
   delight into the valley of the angelic heartbeat below, my hands
   planted on the mattress on either side of Katya, as I felt myself
   tantalized and taunted by the lurid sensations of taffy-like
   layers of gelatinous flesh.

   Finally, rousing my ultimate courage for the final jousting
   match, I prepared to tilt at the final destination, time took on
   a reverent hush of motionlessness, slowing to an underwater dance
   of submerged delicacy, as if all were transpiring deep within the
   honeyed depths of some thick, viscous fluid.

   Katya glanced back at me, knowing the moment had come. Nicole
   held forth a rainbow-colored wreath of peach-soft spring flowers,
   draping it around the portal which I now sought. The center of
   the pale prismatic crepe banners of the maypole.

   "Guide me, mama!" cried Katya softly. "Guide me with your
   wisdom!"

   "As you wish, dear daughter," replied Isadora rather implausibly,
   "I will guide you with my sagacious knowledge, and my wise grasp
   regarding the nature of all things, that your thirst may be
   slaked from the bottomless fount of the holy grail of wisdom."

   Topless and bottomless, I was thinking, but never mind.

   Isadora reached up from below, taking firm grip on my iron hotrod
   of manhood, and directed the molten ruby tip with command and
   precision, through the soft-petalled wreath into the gateway of
   the warm soft virgin tunnel beyond, dripping with sweet slime.

   With slow-motion precision, the arc of triumph completed, and
   there was a moment of contact. As she felt it arrive, Katya's
   body tensed into a curve of anguished delight and a pinpoint of
   ecstatic fulfillment.

   With gentle but sure strokes, we guided the athame through the
   gateway of flowers into the chalice of purity, and her tension
   melted into a dance of gratitude as the starlight pinpoint
   expanded into a wider and ever more gracious galaxy of
   luminescence, as I found my way deeper and deeper into the
   caverns of her enlightenment, to the sacred altar of creation.

   Entranced, the two of us fell into rapt meditation on the ever
   pulsing rhythm, the inward and outward breathing of our
   passionately loving tugging and shoving, ebb and flow, rise and
   fall of the lunar tide.

   Nicole came around in front of Katya, spread her legs around her
   mother's head, and commenced in placing gentle kisses on her
   sister's lips. I could Isadora's tongue still stoking the crimson
   flames down below, and her finger prodding with encouragement
   behind me, penetrated my cavern of morbid squalor, trapping me
   between herself and her daughter's encircling.

   Completely at their mercy now, I surrendered to the rhythmic
   cadence, and soon Katya plummeted from the sky of tension and
   pulsation into an arrhythmic convulsion of release and abandon.

   Palpating her contractions around my sensitive vulnerability, I
   felt the seed welling up from within me, the waterfall of
   generosity giving my precious gift of life into her fountain, and
   then there it was.

   Indescribable, beyond all galaxies and universes, shattering
   reality into mirrored subatomic fragments and cataclysmic
   supernovae of blissful release and untold ecstasy, the delicate
   explosion of my loving rain fell like beaded dewdrops into the
   waiting arbors of her inner garden, sprayed the vines and fronds
   of her interior jungle, leaving behind a mess of sweet milky
   starshine, dripping and squirting with gleeful frolic into the
   forbidden backcountry wellspring.

   She half-turned her head back towards me with an enormous smile,
   and with a devilish eyebrow-lift uttered the simple syllable:
   "Yes!"
     ____________________________________________________________

   As we lay together in a tangled jungle of vine entangled forest
   limbs, heaving and gasping for breath in the refreshingly cool
   breeze, the sound of the doorbell ruptured the restful mood.

   "I'll get it!" called out Nicole, jumping hurriedly up into a
   white jumper and dashing out the room, bounding down the stairs.

   Those of us who remained lying there in a daze could hear the
   door opening, and Nicole's greeting of fond recognition.

   "Carmella! Vanilla!" she exclaimed welcomingly. "What're you guys
   up to?"

   "We're wondering if you might be interested in buying any girl
   scout cookies this year?"

  _______________________________________________________


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