Kiss of the Spider Woman Pt. 12

Oliver finished lunch and after kissing Willow and sending her off to enjoy the carnal delights of a Commune siesta, wondered out onto the big porch of the dining hall and settled down in one of the porch swings and opened his laptop. He was just getting into his undergraduate research project when he felt a hand on his shoulder and a warm face rub against his cheek.

"Hi, honey," Sylvia whispered in his ear, "it's siesta time. What are you doing here alone?"

"Oh, hi Sylvia," he answered and turned his head for a kiss, "I'm just trying to get a little glitch out of my next robot's design. I do have to get it working by the end of the quarter, after all."

"And the quarter's end is still a couple of weeks away, so you don't have to be solving it right now. Put that away and come with me. I have something you'll like."

Doing as he was told, Oliver closed the laptop, put it aside and stood up. Sylvia took his arm and led him down the stairs but instead of pulling him towards her apartment she led him away from the farm center and up a path that climbed a rise overlooking the complex. About halfway up she let go of his arm and pulled his around her shoulders. Then she stuck her hand into the back pocket of his jeans and fondled his butt.

The day was pleasantly warm and a little bit humid so it wasn't long before Oliver began to think about taking off his shirt. As if reading his mind, Sylvia stopped in the middle of the trail and unbuttoned him.

"We'll leave the shirt right here on this bush," she announced and then resuming their previous positions continued up the rise.

At the top the foliage cleared giving a grand view of the countryside around. Oliver was surprised. He thought he knew the Gaian farm well but this was a place he never been nor even heard of.

"Wow, what a great view."

"Mm-hmm," Sylvia replied, "and it's going to get better. Come here." She stood next to a large boulder that almost seemed deliberately planted to act as a parapet and gave it a pat. "Sit down."

Once he was seated, the senior wife sat next to him, threw a leg over his lap and turned into his arms.

"Sweet boy," she whispered, "nearly every time I see you I remember our first in the arachnid barn. I'm packing, sweet boy, and I want to use you, use you ferociously and with no Surrenderone this time. Take off your belt, Oliver, I have a view I want to enjoy."

Very forward senior wives were nothing new to Oliver. Getting invited to spend a siesta in an older woman's bed or getting dosed up with Surrenderone and well pegged in the arachnid barn were a normal part of his sexuality. But there was something in the tone of Sylvia's voice and the compelling intensity of her gaze that slightly unsettled the young man.

"Y-you're going to use lube, aren't you?"

"Take off your belt!" Sylvia was still whispering but it was a whisper that seemed to echo around the inside of Oliver's head. With just a little reluctance his hands dropped to his buckle and he did what she said.

"Good, sweet boy, I love it when you're so submissive," and she kissed him hungrily, fiercely and passionately. Her hands were all over him, stroking, pinching, squeezing until finally she growled, "Turn around, sweet boy. I want you bent over the rock. Up on your elbows, Oliver, and don't look back at me. Just keep your eyes on the landscape while I own you. I'm going to enjoy this so much!"

With a resigned sigh Oliver complied. He felt her slide his jeans down to just under the curve of his buttocks and reach around to free his aroused cock. The fondling and groping continued until he heard the sound of his lover undoing her own fly. He wondered slightly which model and size dildo she planned on ravishing him with, knowing all the while that it didn't matter. Switching from Top to Bottom, from dominant to submissive and back again was 'normal' for the Commune. It was as true for the women as for the men. Mostly it was just alternate ways of playing. This time, though, Sylvia didn't seem to be in the mood to play. There was a hunger about her he'd never encountered before. Not from Sylvia, not from Angela, not even from Melissa. Previous times, dominating Oliver had been a game, one he happily joined in. Today was different.

Her hands returned to his engorged manhood, slipping an elastic cock ring over it and down to the base. "I want this to last a long time, sweet boy," she purred, "someday a couple of us will just gangbang you into exhaustion. We'll make you cum and keep going. But today, I don't want you cumming before I'm ready. Spread your legs; you're about to get fucked."

The bulbous head of the dildo pushed against his anus. There seemed to be lube on it because he didn't feel any abrasion but this one was big. His sphincters stretched and protested but Sylvia was relentless, pushing until he finally gave way and the head was inside him.

"Ah!"

She paused to let him recover. "'Ah' is right, sweet boy. You've never had one this big before. But you've got it now and you will again. Now take it."

A series of short thrusts later, Sylvia's jeans were against Oliver's bare backside and her dildo was deep in his ass. Then she slowly withdrew it and plunged in again, making him moan as it stroked his prostate. Withdraw, thrust, moan. Withdraw, thrust, moan. Soon it was a cadence and the sensations spread out from the penetration all up and down his body.

The landscape faded behind a grey haze and his jaw went slack and his head drooped. Days later, he thought back on the experience and wished that he'd somehow gotten views of Sylvia's face juxtaposed over his own but for now all he knew was pleasure, submission and a growing need for release of some sort. The feeling grew until he began to tremble and then finally rock with unstoppable convulsions. But he didn't ejaculate. Sylvia had seen to that and when the spasms finally stopped his tension began to grow again.

He was vaguely aware that Sylvia was crying out in ecstasy behind him as she hammered him without stopping. Oliver lost all idea of time, place or even identity. All he knew was pleasure and surrender. He was, as she demanded, owned—body, soul and mind.

At last she withdrew completely leaving her lover trembling, weak and covered in sweat. She zipped up her Lady Wranglers and told Oliver to put his belt back on. As they tottered limply back down the trail she leaned on his shoulder and said quietly, "I don't know what it is about you, Ollie, but you just bring out the raging tigress in me. Melissa feels the same way about Jared. Normally she only plays with a junior husband as girlfriend for a little while. With him it seems to be permanent, despite his new fatherhood. I kind of think I'm getting the same feelings about you. Willow and I need to talk—with you, too, of course."

*****

A couple of evenings later the talk began but it included Melissa, Jared and Marli along with Willow. Anyone looking in on the tableau would have been curious as to just what was going on. Melissa and Sylvia sat facing each other on sofas with the men lying down with their heads on the older women's laps and the younger women sitting across the men's thighs. It looked rather odd.

"I just want you four to know," Melissa began, "that this kind of situation was never in our wildest dreams when we started this project."

Marli wrinkled her nose mischievously. "And just what does Konrad think of it?"

"He finds it hysterical," Melissa continued serenely, "and in fact I suspect that he even daydreams of knocking one or the other of you up when you're ready for more kiddies. Of course, he would never admit it."

"He'll have to get in line," Marli sniffed as she patted her swollen belly, "'cause the next one is Oliver's."

"Anyway," Sylvia continued, "the situation is this. You four turn us two on like no one we've ever encountered before. The difference is that we want you as our playthings. I know, it's a harsh, socially all-wrong position but that's where we are."

Willow wiggled her butt on Oliver's crotch. "Oh, I don't think it's wrong, at all. And I can tell Oliver loves being your toy. When you took him up the hill and pegged him all afternoon it was all he could talk about until I stuffed his mouth on my pussy and shut him up. And the fucking afterwards was divine!"

"Honestly," Jared commented as he patted Melissa's jeans covered backside, "I don't see what the kerfuffle could be about. You top me, I top Marli and we're all happy. The same goes for Oliver, Sylvia and Willow. How is this a problem? It isn't like it's in any way loveless."

"Right," Willow piped up, "I'm a happy bottom. You and Oliver are switches and, I guess, the only confirmed Top is Konrad."

Melissa smiled in reflection. "Well, most of the time, anyway. I've been known to push him around now and then—just not often."

"You're the only one who can," Sylvia pointed out pointedly, "He doesn't take that from anyone else."

"Well, I do have some seniority," Melissa replied serenely, "but that's getting off the subject. This meeting was held to establish whether or not the behavior Sylvia and I enjoy so much should continue. Consent is a must here at Gaian."

"So now," Oliver drawled, "you understand that you have it and can keep doing us the way you want—because we want it, too. Move to adjourn?"

*****

A well-maintained old Bentley motored up the main drive into the commune and came to a (very) quiet halt in front of the main dining room. From the sounds emerging from the open front windows, the noon meal was in gearing up so the distinguished looking couple emerged, smiled questioningly at each other and mounted the steps. The gentleman opened the door for his lady who stepped inside just as Willow looked up from here lasagna.

"Auntie Cynthia? Uncle Howard? You didn't say you were coming." She fairly leapt from her seat at the table and flew to her aunt's arms for a big hug and then to her uncle's.

"Oh, they did say," Matriarch Melissa said chuckling from where she sat at the table, "they just said it to me instead of you. I thought it would make a nice surprise."

"And Oliver!" Cynthia spoke warmly. She wrapped her hands around the back of Willow's primary man's neck. "Why, I do believe you added a couple of inches since I last saw you." She tapped a knuckle knowingly against his chest. "And not just in height, either."

Willow blinked in astonishment. Her aunt, her own for-reals auntie, was coming on to her boyfriend and coming on strong. Wow. Well, she thought, two can play that game and when everyone was seated for lunch she scooched up tight next to her uncle, looked up at him with fluttering eyelids and asked, "How long are you planning on being in the area, Uncle Howard?"

With a sly glance towards his wife, Howard replied, "Well, we want to spend a day looking over the farm and another touring the college so we booked a couple of rooms in the Henderson Hotel in town for three nights."

Willow rubbed her shoulder against his and leaned forward to give him a better look at the cleavage peeking out of her overalls. "Adjoining rooms, Uncle Howard?"

"Mm-hmm"

*****

"I'm having second thoughts about this, Melissa," Willow said later with a worried look on her face, "It's one thing to be living in an omnigamous society but my aunt and uncle aren't part of the commune. If Oliver and I go spend a couple of nights with them isn't is cheating? Besides, it's incest!"

"Oh, not necessarily. First, it isn't cheating because you're being up front and honest with the rest of us. And we don't mind. Yes, this is a group marriage but it's a pretty open one, presuming everyone keeps their heads straight and is safe. And second, it's only incest 'for a given value of incest'. Cynthia is your brother's younger sister and she'll be playing with Oliver. Howard isn't even related to you. So, you two go with them for a few nights, have a wonderful 'fling' and then come back to what we consider normal. Where's the problem?"

"Uh—performance anxiety?"

"Pish! I happen to know that your aunt and uncle are 'recreational users' of our best products. Just self-medicate with Vigorilla and Surrenderone and within fifteen minutes you'll be bonking away merrily. Now quit worrying and go have a naughty family reunion."

*****

As the Bentley wended its way down the highway towards town with Oliver and Willow very comfortably ensconced in the back seat, Oliver was imagining nights between the zaftig thighs of Aunt Cynthia. She had an opulent, Victorian figure that looked like a lot of jiggle over well-toned muscles. What her exercise regimen might be was unknown but in Oliver's daydream, belly dance figured prominently. He hoped he was man enough for her.

"Uh, Auntie," Willow began hesitantly, "Melissa said you and Uncle Howard were recreational uses of Vigorilla and Surrenderone? Is that even legal?"

Cynthia chuckled. "We have prescriptions for it. Having an accommodating internist as a neighbor can hardly hurt. And it isn't like we are mainlining the stuff. However, it does come in so useful for amaryllis parties."

"Amaryllis parties? Isn't an amaryllis a flower?"

"Mm-hmm. It's also called Belladonna or Naked Ladies. A couple of times a year we get together with friends. The men come in black tie and the women change into jewelry and high heels. We started just using the chemicals to make it easier for new members of the group but the sensations are so delicious that now we all dose up. Everyone arrives at the party house and the women go upstairs, take their Surrenderone and undress. The men take their Vigorilla downstairs and then set about making punch, arranging canapés and such. Then we all come downstairs and wait for the effect. Everyone gets very well fucked, twice, and then we go home and back to our normal lives. It's such fun."

"Gosh," Willow was speechless.

*****

Dinner that night in the Henderson Arms was surprisingly good, Oliver thought. Probably the influence of the Gaian Farm close by was raising the local standards but he had to admit that the lamb chops, pasta in Mornay Sauce, snow peas and all other trimmings was definitely up to standard. Declining dessert, the family took the elevator to their floor and while the car rose, handed around squeeze bottles of appropriate chemical foreplay.

"Now," Howard began softly, "we're both going to go to our separate rooms to wait for this to take effect. In the meantime, the ladies can disrobe and get comfortable until we open the door between. Any questions?"

"Just the ladies disrobe?" asked Oliver.

"Yes."

In their room a few moments later, Willow giggled as Oliver pulled down the zipper on her sheath.

"Gee, Honey, this is the first time you've ever undressed me for another man. It feels—kind of sexy, actually. I think I'll suggest one of those Amaryllis parties to Melissa. I think she'd be intrigued. I mean, we've all been shared but I don't think anyone of us has actually been handed off to another guy."

"No surprise there," Oliver replied wryly, "'Handing you off' sort of implies ownership, you know, and that is so outside the commune's mindset you need a telescope to see it." Oliver unfastened her bra and reached down for her satin thong.

"Not if we think it's exciting and all took our Surrenderone." Willow let the straps slide off over her shoulders and wiggled her bottom and the thong slid down her thighs. "And if anyone did have qualms about it we can always plan CFNM response for the next time. Wouldn't that be fun? I could strip you down, dose you with Surrenderone (for Men) and hand you to Sylvia for a sound pegging. I'd like to watch next time."

"I don't think that would work. Someone would hand a guy to you and you might be a bit busy to watch."

"Oh, not necessarily. After all, we have more women than men so I'm sure some way all the guys could be kept busy without my being involved. No, leave the stockings on. I want to slide them up and down Uncle Howard's back while he fucks me. And you are going to have so much fun with Aunt Cynthia? She knew how horny I was back at school and must have understood completely. That's why she was so encouraging when I said I wanted to come to Gaian."

Oliver thought about that. He'd met the Van De Meer's on a couple of occasions whenever they visited their orphaned niece at Wycombe Abbey school. Admittedly, the circumstances had been quite formal, as was appropriate to the setting, but he'd never gotten much in the way of libidinous vibes from them. Probably, he mused, because he was far too concerned with his own amorous inclinations towards Willow. On the other hand, since he'd only been about fourteen when they first met, it was highly unlikely that there had even been any, at least any aimed in his direction. Now, things were different!

Willow sat on the edge of the bed and lay back. She could feel the growing languor and sensuosity that always occurred when the Surrenderone started having its delicious effect. It made her sigh happily.

"Go knock on the door, honey," she murmured, "Aunt Cynthia is probably already all wet just thinking about you. Go make her ounces bounce."

Oliver thought that was a timely suggestion. The Vigorilla was starting to work on him and if Willow hadn't shooed him out, he'd have probably jumped her. And he apparently wasn't alone because just as he was about to tap on the door to the adjoining room, Howard opened it a crack and asked, "Ready?"

"More than you can believe," Oliver muttered under his breath but grinned and nodded as he and Howard passed each other and quietly closed the door behind them. As Oliver approached Cynthia's bed and started to unbutton his shirt she shook her head.

"No, Oliver. Leave your clothes on. It's a kind of fetish for me to have sex with a man when I'm naked and he's still fully dressed. So come here, lover, run your hands all over me. Squeeze and fondle, baby. I'm so wet and ready for you. I want you inside me so badly."

Rubenesque, thought Oliver, that's the word I was trying to remember. Who would ever have thought I'd be so turned on by a plump woman old enough to be my mother, though the bakery seems to be trying to give me a greater variety. I could probably blame it on the Vigorilla but I'd be lying. She's hot, so hot.

In the next room Willow giggled, mewed and 'oh'd' as she held her uncle's head between her thighs. Not that he needed holding down. Her young, smooth snatch was delicious and he lapped and sucked it with enthusiasm. Quickly the girl got into the swing of things and began to buck and thrust back against his onslaught until, at last, the waves of unstoppable contractions wracked her body and made her howl with ecstasy.

Still panting she looked down at Howard. "Okay, you evil uncle, how do you want me?"

"Up on your hands and knees, young lady," he replied with a leer, "I'm going to doggy-style your ears off."

Willow responded with alacrity. Being taken from behind was her favorite. It was so—so animal, so primal. It gave her a oneness with all the rest of the mammalian world in a way that face-to-face couldn't. Rolling over and getting up on all fours, she arched her back and growled, "Fuck me, Uncle Howard!"

He knelt behind her, lined up his solid cock on her waiting pussy and drove in. "Uh!" she responded, followed by "Eeep!" as he slapped her butt. Thrust, spank, withdraw, thrust, spank, withdraw—soon the rhythm of the assault worked into her brain.

Her amygdule started to chuckle. "Ba—by, ba—by, ba—by" it chanted in time to Howard's barrage. "No, no!" shouted her cerebrum. "We have to finish the doctorate first." "Why?" asked the deepest part of her brain, "Studies are long, fertility is short. Get. Pregnant. Now." The cerebrum was about to give a snappy rejoinder when Howard grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. End of argument for the evening.