Double Tears
Chapter 104
“Life is the dancer and you are the dance.”
—Eckhart Tolle, A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose
WE WERE TAKING two vehicles to Kansas. The five of us could have piled into either one but Rachel, Livy, and Brittany would be returning Monday. Desi and I were staying through the following weekend. And, of course, Cindy and her mother were traveling and living separately. Most of the cast working the show slept on the grounds, at least over the weekends. The first weekend was set up and rehearsals on Friday (or earlier for those building sets) and open gates at ten Saturday morning until eleven that night. Same hours on Sunday. The second weekend we’d have evening hours Thursday and Friday and the same excruciating Saturday-Sunday hours. Sometime in the middle of Sunday night or Monday morning, we’d pack our tents and quietly slip away.
I was picking up Brittany to spend some road time with her and planned to meet up with Rachel and crew someplace along the way for lunch. As it turned out, I didn’t get rolling until nearly noon. I got the idea to convert the cargo slide into a bed so I’d have someplace comfy to sleep. For that I needed a mattress. The mattresses I could find didn’t fit. I managed to find a place that sold thick sheets of foam rubber and cut it to size. I finally got my bedding, my clothes, and my instruments packed in and wondered if I was going to be able to sleep amidst the luggage. And what about Desi? I was sure she’d want to sleep with me at least part of the time. I stopped at BBB and bought another pillow and a set of sheets.
It was a quarter till twelve when I pulled up in front of Brittany’s house. I opened the back door of the truck to pack her suitcase in since there was no longer any room in the bed. Brittany grabbed me from behind as I was leaning into the truck to put the seat up. I spun to catch her in my arms.
“Sophie!” I gasped as she planted a deep kiss on my mouth. I didn’t say anything else until I was tapped on the shoulder and saw a grinning Brittany beside us.
“This girlfriend wants kisses, too. Don’t be piggish, Sophie.”
“You have him all the time,” Sophie complained but relinquished her hold on me so her niece could kiss me. Once I’d recovered my breath a little and had my arms around both girlfriends, I managed to ask a question.
“When did you get home? Will you be here when we get back? Are you coming with us? How long are you staying?” Maybe that was more than one question.
“I got in on Monday but haven’t had time to see anyone outside the family and a few select girlfriends,” she laughed.
“Who all managed to keep it a secret from me.”
“I’m going with you for the weekend and I’ll be around all summer, so that better not be the only kiss I get.”
“Besame, besame mucho,” I whispered.
“Sweet talker.”
“We’d better hit the road. We won’t get in until midnight as it is,” I said. “Sorry it took so long for me to get ready this morning.”
We got their luggage arranged and Sophie slid to the center of the front seat and fastened the belt. Brittany slapped her hand away from my leg.
“Jacob is a good driver and doesn’t need you distracting him,” she said. “Keep your hands to yourself or you’ll have to sit by the door.” Then she giggled. Sophie turned to her niece and kissed her, squeezing her boobs playfully. I waited until they were settled before I put the truck in gear.
“What would I ever do without you to tell me what to do?” Sophie sighed.
We talked and caught up on her various adventures over the past few months of dancing. It was definitely going to be a good trip.
The downside was that neither Sophie nor Brittany could drive. Brittany was too young and Sophie was too short to reach the pedals in the truck without major adjusting. She was a little afraid of the tank. That meant I had a 600-mile drive ahead of me. At least both of Rachel’s passengers could switch off with her. I thought about having driven out west with Joan and whispered a little prayer for her.
We stopped at Bob Evans in Indianapolis for a late lunch. Both girls were appalled at how much I ate but I hadn’t eaten much breakfast. They ate chicken noodles, which is about as dainty a meal as you can get at Bob Evans. Then we turned west on I-70.
Brittany occupied the center seat until I stopped again just west of Terre Haute at the rest area when the girls began to complain that they would pee in their seats. The girls swapped seats again. At least they weren’t fighting over who got shotgun and who got me. Tradeoffs, I guess.
Fortunately, there was a warning posted that the rest area west of Effingham was closed and I remembered a Starbuck’s just off the freeway where we’d stopped on our spring break trip. Even with a fresh cup of coffee, I was shot by the time we got to St. Louis. It was already seven.
“Jacob, you shouldn’t drive all night. Let’s get a room and go on in the morning. Take the next exit,” Sophie demanded. We’d seen several motels posted on the exit sign so I headed in. I guess I’m just not made of the same stuff as Dad. I never understood how he could just drive for hours and hours without a break. Brittany directed me to a Colonial Inn and Sophie ran in to see about a room. She was old enough they would never think twice about renting one to her and she had a credit card.
I liked the room. It had one king-size bed.
I sent a text to Rachel and just said, “Too tired to go on. Stopping for the night. See you at the site tomorrow.”
I got a response that was short and sweet. “Us too. Have fun!”
I convinced Brittany and Sophie that I needed food before bed and they joined me at a café attached to the motel.
What the hell is the difference between a motel and a hotel these days? I can’t tell them apart. My best guess is that a motel has parking spaces. V1 understood it back in the days when hotels didn’t and motels were only located along the major cross-country routes. They were often just a row of cabins in someone’s cornfield. If you went to a hotel, you got off the train and caught a taxi to the front door. A bellman took your bags and an elevator operator took you to the right floor. Now? The only places that had bellmen as far as V1’s experience showed, were resorts that were supposed to be condos. Lord save us.
I powered through a steak and baked potato with a side salad. The ladies just had salad. They were going to be hungry girls by the end of the weekend. Personally, I couldn’t wait to buy one of those turkey legs I’d heard about.
It turns out they were hungry, all right. And I was the main course. Once we were back in the room, Sophie locked and bolted the door. Then they attacked. It’s a wonder there is a button left on my shirt. I was stripped in no time flat and shoved back on the bed with my cock waving.
“Don’t you want to let me brush my teeth?” I asked.
“After you eat my pussy,” Sophie said, straddling my head. I took my first long taste of that spicy Cuban pussy just as Brittany’s mouth engulfed my cock. Do I need to describe what came after that?
Of course. By the time Sophie came on my tongue, I was near coming in Brittany’s mouth but both girls rolled off me and grabbed my hand to drag me to the bathroom. Brittany started the shower as Sophie handed me my toothbrush.
“I really don’t mind having your taste on my tongue,” I said before I kissed her.
“But you need to cleanse your palate before the next course,” Sophie responded. I almost didn’t get around to using the toothbrush. Sophie was doing a good job of washing my mouth with her tongue. I heard a smack and Sophie jumped back. What an incredible body. She absolutely rippled from head to toe. If you’ve never made love to a dancer—I mean a real dancer, not a pole dancer—there is nothing like the lithe body and incredible flexibility. Brittany directed us into the shower and I got scrubbed between my two Latina lovers. Wow!
“Now you can taste the delights of the virgin coño,” Sophie said, pushing me toward Brittany, who was already sprawled out on a towel in bed with her legs parted. Now that’s a sight I’ll never tire of seeing. I dove in.
V1 still had occasional twinges about sex with little girls as I sometimes thought of them. Brittany and I had been fooling around since her quinceañera, though, and had been together with Sophie. Not only was Sophie older, I’d known her thirty years ago. Extending that to Brittany had proven remarkably easy. I didn’t know anything about Sophie’s V1 family other than they had been refugees back in the ’60s. I’d gotten to know V3’s Adams family intimately and was all too happy to feast on this virgin (to men) fifteen-year-old pussy.
“I’m ready, Jacob. Come here and make love to me. I’ve been waiting for this opportunity.” Brittany pulled at my head and I followed her guidance, planting little kisses all along her body until I reached her lips.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” I asked as the head of my cock touched the heat of her sex.
“I’ve been ready for months but didn’t want to mess up school. Our schedules—your schedule was too chaotic to give me adequate time to enjoy. This is our weekend. I know we’re all going to work our tails off at the faire but I want you. I want you now.”
I felt Sophie’s hand on my cock, slicking it in Brittany’s juices and positioning me at her opening. Without any further hesitation I sank into my youngest girlfriend.
“I’ve never had a penis in my vagina, though Sophie has pushed just about everything else up there she could. You feel so good inside me.”
“You are so tight,” I gasped. “Are you sure you can take this?” In fact, I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt anything so tight. Sophie was incredibly snug but not even virgin Desi had been this tight. I pushed a little more and suddenly she opened up and I sank in to the hilt. Then she was as tight as a vise again. Brittany laughed.
“Beca’s the smallest of our girlfriends but her hand is bigger than your penis and it fit,” Brittany said. She what??? “Among the girls, we call Beca the puppet master.” She started pulsing her pussy, tightening and relaxing. I was in heaven.
“I can’t believe what control you have,” I moaned as she clamped down on my cock again.
“We’re dancers,” she laughed. That was another great feeling lancing through my body. “Sophie has been teaching me all about muscle control and core strengthening. I wanted you in me as far as you can go and I want to feel you slide back and in again.”
I obliged my lover. Everything else in the room disappeared as I looked into Brittany’s dark eyes. Sophie didn’t leave our side. I felt her snake a hand between us to stroke Britt’s clit for her. Her other hand petted my rump. Brittany and I just kept up the rhythm almost as if we were dancing in the sheets.
“Yesss,” she hissed. “Almost. Look at me, Jacob. Come with me. I’m your lover and I want you to fill me with your come. So close. So close.” Sophie’s fingers sped up a little on Brittany’s clit. Then Sophie’s other hand found my asshole. I jerked forward, pounding her fingers against Brittany’s clit, which was apparently exactly what my lover needed to make the homestretch. The sudden stimulation in my asshole drove me to a series of rapid jerks culminating in pushing as far into Brittany as I could while I unleashed a torrent of come into her.
My torrent wasn’t the only one. Never taking her eyes from mine, Brittany grimaced, her face contorting as she let loose a banshee howl and started to come. And come. It sprayed out of her, drenching my pubes and balls. I could feel it pulsing against me and pouring out of her. Brittany’s howl finally tapered off to a long sigh and her face relaxed. I could see stars floating in front of me, but we never lost eye contact.
I’ve had some pretty powerful climaxes in my life but I’d never seen a woman have one so overwhelming. I was surprised she was still conscious. I bent forward more to kiss her and press my chest against her breasts. Sophie’s hand slipped out from between us and her other out of my butt. She left us kissing like that while she went to the bathroom and washed.
“Cleanup,” Sophie said when she returned to the bed. Brittany and I pried ourselves away from each other and Sophie shoved a washcloth between us as my cock slipped free of that wet vise. Sophie handed me a towel and I dried my cock and balls. And stomach and legs. It was like someone turned a hose on the bed. Now I understood why Brittany had been lying on a towel when I came to bed.
“I didn’t want to do that while you were eating me and drown you,” Brittany said. “But it was so good when you were in me. Sophie knows exactly how to touch me to get me off like that. Maybe she could teach you.”
“You must have squirted out a gallon,” I said. “That was amazing.” V1 was still blinking his eyes. I’d become sexually active in 1956 and died in 2018. In sixty-two years, I’d never been with a woman who squirted. I thought, in fact, it was a myth, made up to spice up stories on SOL.
“When you read us your story back in March, I kept thinking, that’s how it is for me. Then I realized it wasn’t that way for the other girls. They don’t have the same build up of pressure that gets released all at once. Oh, they have the clenching stomach and vibrating clit and all. But none of them experience the ejaculation like I do. You don’t think I’m gross, do you, Jacob.”
“Brittany, I hope I can bring you many of those orgasms in the future. It was amazing.”
19 June 2020
I can’t say I’m all that well rested this morning, but we still have three hundred miles to go. Brittany and Sophie are still asleep, entwined with each other. Even after the spectacular ‘deflowering’ of Brittany, the girls wanted to play some more and I was happy to renew my cock’s relationship with Sophie’s pussy. And now that I know what to look for, I can feel the similarity between fucking Sophie and fucking Brittany. There is a definite family resemblance.
Though Sophie doesn’t squirt or gush or ejaculate. Whatever term you want to use. And Brittany says it only happens once out of a dozen times and is when she is both extraordinarily turned on and stimulated in just the right way. I guess Sophie is an expert in ‘the right way.’
It’s a long drive and I’m anxious to get started. Looking at these two in bed, though, makes me think I might need to fuck someone before we hit the road.
When we got to the café for breakfast, Rachel, Livy, and Desi stood to greet us. WTF??? Brittany did a wiggling dance to them with her hands over her head as Sophie took my arm.
“Guess who is no longer a virgin!” Brittany exclaimed. Guys at a couple of tables looked up at her but she was soon engulfed in the embrace of our celebrating girlfriends.
“What are you guys doing here? I thought you were driving through to Kansas yesterday,” I said.
“Oh, we made reservations last week and all knew where we were going to stop. If you hadn’t wasted so much time getting started yesterday, you’d have had all five of us in bed in the afternoon,” Rachel said. “As it was, we had the whole afternoon to lie by the pool and tease the guys. Not that there were any guys to tease in the afternoon. By the time you checked in last night, we were already naked and playing. We didn’t want to disturb your night with the Cubans.”
“Well, color me surprised,” I said. “We need to eat and get on the road. Riley said we should be there as early as possible in order to park and set up camp before we practice strolling the grounds. If Cindy and her Mom drive straight through, they’ll get there about five. Knowing how far it is, I wouldn’t try to do this trip now in a single drive again.”
We grabbed quick food and I swung into Starbuck’s on the way to the freeway to get a venti Americano for the road. Brittany swapped out with Livy so she could tell Rachel and Desi all about her adventure of the previous night. Livy held my coffee and took the middle seat for the first part of the journey, even though that seat isn’t the most comfortable for her long legs.
We hit the encampment grounds at two o’clock because we decided to stop in town for a full meal before we got there. The rest of the weekend was going to be a little chaotic and we’d be eating our meals on site.
Riko and Riley were already inside ‘the village’ getting their shop set just the way they want it but Desi had no trouble getting the rest of us registered and admitted to the vendor campground. We were just dressed in jeans and T-shirts but many of the people in the village were already in their renaissance apparel. A few wore swords. A knight in full armor rode to the jousting field. And the smell of roasting turkey was already filtering out of Ye Olde Taverne. We helped Riko with her displays. I had to hold the end of a rod Riley was fastening up to hang more costumes from. He was wearing tights and a doublet, which is not how I really wanted to see my girlfriend’s father. Riko always wore costumes at these events but usually Riley was just dressed in street clothes so he could meet with potential customers for big sales.
More people started showing up a little before five and most of them were in costume.
“You should all try on your costumes and take a parade around the grounds to get a feel for where you’ll be walking and performing,” Riko said. “Where is that other girl? She should be here by now to rehearse.”
I hadn’t realized there was so much rehearsal involved for Ren Faires. When the six of us emerged from the dressing room, Riko was impatiently waiting to show Cindy in. Her mother had refused to let her go into the dressing room with the rest of us changing there. I scarcely had a chance to greet Cindy before she disappeared into the changing room.
Riley inspected each of our costumes and made a couple of adjustments. I don’t think he was feeling up any of the girls but he spent a little extra time adjusting the drape of Sophie’s Gypsy dress. Well, she hadn’t been in for fittings in the past week like the other girls had. And when he finished tucking the right side hem of her skirt into the belt, it exposed a mile of Sophie’s sexy leg. And more when she twirled. He directed Sophie to adjust Brittany’s the same way.
When Cindy finally appeared from the changing room, we all stopped and stared. Riko did an amazing job of keeping her completely covered and still exuding that kind of sexual appeal of a girl pretending to be a boy. Unsuccessfully. Her costume was modeled, more or less, after mine, but it was tailored to fit her slim body and show that she was all girl. I could think of a world of gags we could pull with that line of thinking.
“New names,” I said, thinking fast. “I’m Sebastian. You, my sweet little sister, are Viola, disguised as Cesario. And you are Olivia,” I said pointing to Desi. “We’ll think of others as we go.” I could see Riley tapping out notes on his cellphone. Not very renaissancy, as Desi would say.
“We should all reread it as soon as possible,” Desi said. “We don’t want to act out scenes, but we should be able to act like the characters and improvise.”
“What???” Cindy asked. It was clear she had no idea what we were talking about. Desi and Brittany got it, but I think we left the others in the dust.
“Twelfth Night,” Desi continued. “Twins, brother and sister, get separated in a storm and try to survive by their wits. Viola, you, disguises herself as a boy and enters the service of Duke Orsino as a page. He sends her on countless errands of love to Countess Olivia, me, who ends up falling in love with him, not realizing he is a she. In the meantime, Orsino is so charmed by his page that he, too, begins to fall for him, being heavily conflicted by the fact that he’s falling for a boy—who is really a girl. When Sebastian shows up, he rebuffs Orsino and makes love to Olivia, causing a real uproar until they all realize they’re dealing with twins.”
“It follows the typical routines of A Comedy of Errors with one twin constantly being confused with the other only this one has the added stupidity of one being a boy and one a girl who the audience can tell apart in very obvious ways,” Brittany added. “We studied it in English this year. If we’re not trying for a reenactment, we could adapt characters from other plays as well. Like Sophie and I could be a variant of Dromio and Dromio, the comic servants in Errors.”
“Mom, I’m going to need a costume upgrade,” Desi said. “I need to change from barmaid to courtesan or countess. I can change my songs to love songs and switch off singing them to Jacob and Cindy.”
“Go do your walk-around and get your ideas flowing,” Riko said. “We’ll work on costume adjustments. You can read the plays tonight before bed.” We left the booth to scope things out and the last thing I heard was Riko and Betty in another argument.
“How can they simply change the storyline without rehearsing it? Cindy worked hard on the role of a wandering troubadour. They can’t just change things like that!”
“It’s theater, not orchestra,” Riko shouted.
“Live, improvisational theater!” Riley yelled.
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