Turpitude Page 2

  Little did we suspect, a pair of inquisitive eyes were observing us from the second floor window. The Belgian inserted his hand into his cotton drawstring pants. He loosened the ties and let them drop to the floor. He began stroking himself, gazing at the provocative sight outside the glass panel. He was patiently waiting for the right moment to partake in our circle of unbridled eroticism. For now, he was contented, jerking his stiffness while watching our tantalizing sensual foreplay.

  My lover pinned my wrist above my head, French kissing my delicious mouth while our slender pelvises gyrated rousingly against our exposed flesh. My lover’s half-exposed ass crack served only to heighten the percipient’s mesmerizing stare. He was actively channeling ribaldry visions of bacchanalian revelry, titillating his already engorged libido to shuddering orgasmic convulsions. He spewed jets of molten passions across the plywood floor, and some abundance landed on his hand and thigh.

  He lifted his fingers to his lips, feeding his amatory deposits into his mouth. Not desiring to let any of his scrumptiousness go to waste, he scooped the dripping droplets from his muscular thighs and fed his heady sediments back from whence they came.

  Lowering himself on all fours, he lapped up the remaining residue, relishing the delicacies like a licking dog, savoring his own melting life force.

  When he was fully satisfied, he dressed and came downstairs to welcome our return.

  Chapter Two

  In A Valley Of Andorra

  “Romance is the glamour which turns the dust of everyday life into a golden haze.”

  Elynor Glyn

  Since Andy and I reconnected, we had discussed the possibility of co-writing Turpitude. Although my ex-Valet chose to continue using the pseudonym Andy, he did agree to give his perspective on our joint experiences in our fourth harem experience, the Assalamu Alaikum (Peace be with you) household. We hope to provide a richer story for our readers.

  1967

  Andorra

  Neither Andy nor I were aware that Alfonso had deposited us in the Spanish Andorra countryside, where Strawberry Fields Forever was located. Although we knew we had traveled for several hours from Barcelona airport, we hadn’t expected that the nearest Andorra town would be an hour from the farm. The commune was surrounded by mountains, pristine rivers and picturesque forests; Andy and I were in awe.

  That winter’s evening was unusually warm, and Hans and Mary suggested we set up camp in the nearby forest after a hearty meal with the rest of the residents. A group of us sat around the campfire when Thor (one of the male lodgers) began strumming a series of Swedish folk songs on his guitar. Several of the women joined in the singing. Before long, some were dancing, half naked and high from puffing away at their joints. Alfonso and Oscar were no exception. The only sober people were Andy, me, and the two children, who were sleeping peacefully in the house.

  As the music and dancing got sultrier, so did the shedding of clothing. Before long, wriggling bodies in various stages of sensual and sexual copulation were in full swing. As aroused as I was by this unbridled eroticism, my guardian was scrutinizing the revelry with stoic celerity. He was ready to get us out if the love-in became too overzealous. It wasn’t that I had not seen or participated in orgies; it had more to do with the drug and alcohol induced coterie that my lover’s protective instinct sought to shield me from.

  Besides my ex-big brother and his boyfriend who wanted my chaperone and me to partake in this wonton carnality, there were others who were secretly conspiring toward our intimate endearments. Although one of the unspoken rules of the mostly anarchist cooperative was the freedom of speech, action and susceptibility, I was perceptively aware that there were abstruse concealments among certain members in the group. On the surface, communal living seemed open and free, but after a couple of days of life in such close quarters, I unmasked envy and jealousy among some of the lodgers, especially the womenfolk, who were secretly competitive, seeking to possess the men for themselves rather than free them for communal apportion.

  The two exceptions to this rule were Mary and Jewel, who welcomed males and females alike into their ménage à deux whenever the opportunity arose. They were, indeed, true feminists.

  A Stroll in the Dark

  Leaving the campground, Andy and I meandered toward the quiet, moonlit lake. The tranquility of the landscape stopped us. I exclaimed, “The serenity of this enchanted place is breathtaking!”

  Andy held me closer as we stood and admired the reflection of the crescent moon shimmering on the gentle undulating water. We needed no words. Our thoughts were one in spirit and in unity. We basked in silence.

  Andy finally spoke, “You, my love, are as beautiful as the crescent moon.”

  I felt differently than usual – tonight, his words stirred something I had never experienced before. Tears of happiness flowed down my cheeks. Instead of kissing my mouth, he leaned over to brush away the droplets from my blushing cheeks. “I love you so much, Young. More than you’ll ever understand,” he whispered. “I’ll always be close to you, no matter how far apart we are.”

  Surprised, I asked him, “Where are you going?”

  Andy gazed at me adoringly. “Nowhere, my love. Nowhere,” he affirmed.

  In this bewitching landscape, time seemed to stop. We wrapped our arms around each other, venerating the majesty of God’s creation. I finally broke the enthralling stillness. “What are we doing tomorrow?” I questioned.

  My question seemed to throw my lover off guard. “What will you like to do tomorrow?” he responded.

  “I’ll like to see more of Barcelona than just the beauty of its countryside.”

  “And so you will, my darling,” my Valet promised. “I’ve something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you. I think now is the perfect time…”

  I looked at my guardian, puzzled. He began, “Remember when I said, ‘We need to talk’ when I saw you with Duc the night of our school’s Christmas ball?”

  “I remember,” I chirped.

  He continued, “I want to discuss with you…” he said and paused, “If you’re open to inviting Albert into our midst, much like we did with Oscar before he left for university.”

  My heart began thumping hard and fast. I remained silently still. My lover pledged, “Young, my lovely one, please don’t for one moment think I’ve stopped loving you. If anything, I love you more than ever. I promise I’ll love Albert and you equally and unconditionally, and I pray that you and Albert will do the same with me, if and when we agree to a consensual ménage à trois affinity.”

  I stammered, “Have you talked to Albert about this?”

  “No. I wanted to discuss this with you before I approached Albert,” Andy answered. His mesmerizing greenish-blue eyes stared at me unflinchingly.

  Not able to resist his gentlemanly magnetism, I reached over and kissed his tender lips. Our lingering devotion needed no exchange of words. By the time we sundered, my answer was already made known. My lover gave me a treasured smile as we laid by the grassy bank. I was deep in thoughts about what the future would hold for the three of us.

  The Stalkers

  Hidden from view in the quiet forest, not far from where my lover and I lay, two people stood watch. The solitary, telltale sign of their presence was the glowing amber of the cannabis they had just lit.

  The man murmured, “I’ll take the young one. I know you desire the older guy…”

  Before he could continue, the female was already on her knees, engulfing the throbbing hardness into her open orifice. Smoke from her puff eliminated from the corners of her mouth, giving the impression that his rod was smoldering and that she had the power to extinguish the impetuous passion she had begun. He was already fantasizing about the adolescent he was watching a short distance away.

  She, on the other hand, was musing over the handsome teenager lying by the shoreline, her closed eyes imagining the manhood around her lips to be that of her fantasy man. She sucked and teased the erection to uncontrollable ecstas
y. Wrapping her luscious lips around the bobbing bulbousness, she plunged her cavity onto the corpulent protrusion, choking herself in the process. Instead of relinquishing her prized possession, she rammed it deeper, burying her youthful face against his musky pubes. The male wasted no time in pushing her head onto the onslaught, enveloping her prowess, he jounced her cranium until dribbles of saliva trickled from the corners of her mouth. Like a naked wood nymph craving erotic pleasure, she relished the rough treatment foisted upon her diaphanous being as she luxuriated in this game of machismo dominance. She yearned to be snared by this aggressive satyr whom she hoped would molest her in every which way. She desired to be treated disrespectfully by anyone who would take control over her for their personal gratification. She would gladly supplicate herself to Lucifer or the Marquis de Sade if they had lived to partake in this unrestrained sadomasochism.

  She was torn between satisfying this churlish hard-man and the decorous teenager whom she knew to be a gentleman of decorum and respectability. She schemed to entice this young homosexual, to ruse him to fall prey to her iniquitous seduction.

  For now, she was preoccupied with the rogue before her. He pushed her against a nearby tree and lifted her legs to his pelvis. In a single stroke, he entered her spread thighs, sinking his quivering organ into her willing orifice. The discomfort only served to heighten her masochistic propitiation as his forceful pounding abraded her tender back. His eyes closed, he rode her furiously, fantasizing about his Caucasian rigidity impaling the young Asian. Vivid images of his squirming adolescent prey fighting to be free from his careening licentiousness served to heighten his urgency. He plundered the boy’s derriere with unrelenting potency as his twitching opening begged for his mighty onslaught. He pillaged his way towards multiple orgasmic crescendos, only to resume yet another round of intemperate fervor while ravaging in ecstasy. His mind swore that he would use this stripling to satisfy his sexual wantonness. The sooner he could get rid of the lad’s chaperone, the faster he could execute his scheme.

  His powerful grip lifted the groaning woman and laid her onto the ground, his stiffness still buried inside her willing pelvic chamber. His rugged stroking aroused her to moans of rapturous dexterity. As she lifted her spindly hips to receive his imminent release, their heavy breathing gave way to gratifying decadence. Waves of electric arrows traversed through their bodies, striking their eyelids in rainbows as music fell over their ears. The gongs of orgasm had sounded quietly within this peaceful landscape.

  Unbeknownst to my guardian and me, Thor and Pratnah remained buried within each other. To quiet their nerves, they shared another joint before heading back towards the farm house.

  The Dream

  I lay awake, contemplating the future of a triplet relationship with Andy and Albert. As I reassured myself that it would be similar to our triplet relationship with Oscar and Andy, I had a nagging presage that sharing Andy with another passive partner may create more jealousy than before. As hard as I tried to subdue the green-eyed monster, it would rear its hideous head from under my pillow, even though my lover was sleeping next to me alone. The mushy mattress did nothing to console my uneasiness, not to mention the snoring or the whimpering noises of the two children from the adjoining room.

  Finally, exhaustion overcame my anxiety, and sleep arrived in the form of a disconcerting dream.

  Bicycling alone in an unhurried Andorra country lane, I basked in the awe-inspiring valley of the magnificent Pyrenees. I cycled past an expansive poppy field. The abundance of red, orange and yellow drew me off my bike. I relished this alone time, frolicking in this beautiful field of plenty. All of a sudden, a dark, foreboding shadow flashed past me in the midst of the bright blue sky. An impending sense of menace immediately coursed through me. The shadow vanished as quickly as whence it appeared. A scathing premonition swirled around each of my skipping steps as I continued my carefree cavorting.

  Once again, the fleeting darkness manifested several yards in front of me. I could not decipher the monologue or the image of this snickering hologram. The harder I stared at it, the faster it mutated its multi-faceted configurations. It was benevolent at times, and at others, it appeared malevolent. When I let down my guard, it transformed itself into a series of minatory hieroglyphic blobs.

  Fear coursed through me; I backed away. Abruptly, another inky shadow appeared from behind. I ran as fast as I could from this field of dreams, but the creatures cornered me. One of them snatched at my shirt, tearing it to pieces. I was smitten with terror. Then, without warning, I was lifted off the ground by a muscular flying object. It looked like an eagle, but under closer inspection, this colossal being was an angel. The blinding light behind his gigantic wings concealed his face. What I could discern was his sinewy silhouette. We ascended towards the cloudy blue sky. Safe in his masterful arms, I looked down only to witness the two indignant apparitions shaking their fists at us. My once-frightened spirit began to soar as he cradled me in his soothing arms. I heard melodic music some distance away...

  I awoke to Andy’s protective arms. He was rocking me back and forth, whistling a calming lullaby. His piercing greenish-blue eyes gazed at me.

  I whispered, “What happened?”

  He lifted a finger to my lips to be quiet. I buried my face in his soft, furry chest. Equanimity fell over my being. His nakedness enshrouded mine, stirring us to hardness. There was no need for love-making. His gentle rocking had massaged us to unfathomable exultations. The potency of our love was the making of love itself. Rapturous euphoria washed over us, rising and receding like frolicking waves as we rode the tantric swells to blissful nirvana. We were one and all. Our eyes closed to savor our unchained melody. Spews of gushing abundance flowed from our unconditional love as if the gods had erected an irrepressible wall, shielding my lover and me within a cocoon of silken ecstasy where no other could perpetrate our inner sanctum.

  We lay unmoved until the superfluous music from a melodic flute awoke us to partake in another joyful day at Strawberry Fields Forever.

  Chapter Three

  Renaixença - Rebirth

  “Pieces of Art Nouveau architecture are moods, impressions of the soul; together, they represent an aspect of the struggle between the seduced and the seducer that is called lust.”

  Bernard Tristan Foong

  1967

  Off to Barcelona

  During communal breakfast, Andy inquired of Alfonso, “Is it possible for us to catch a ride to the city? Young and I would like to visit some places of interest. We’d also like to rent a car so we don’t have to rely on you guys to chauffeur us around.”

  The Spaniard chirped, “Oh, Andy, there’s no need to rent a car. We have cars you can use at my parents’ garage. We’ll drive you over to their villa after breakfast.

  “You’ll get a chance to greet Lorenzo and my mum, Antonia. When I told her you were here, she wanted to meet you.”

  I interrupted, “Will you join us in Barcelona, Oscar?” I was wondering if I would have a chance to be re-acquainted with my ex BB.

  “Of course I’ll come with you,” Oscar replied.

  Before we knew it, a few others had joined us on our way to the city. Our group consisted of Mary, Pratnah, a Hungarian woman named Salome, Lukas, Hans and Thor. Off we headed toward the city.

  Casa Milà

  We arrived at Passeig de Gràcia, a major business and shopping avenue in Barcelona’s city center. My meticulous eyes spotted an outlandish edifice that was constructed entirely of curves and undulating lines. I exclaimed, “What is that building? I’ve never seen such a structure.” All eyes turned towards the direction of my finger as I pointed at the building.

  Alfonso declared, “That is the Northern Insurance Company, my first stop. I’ve some business I have to take care of for my father before we head towards his villa.”

  As soon as we got out of the art mobile, I whipped out my camera and began snapping at this extraordinary property.

  Hans commented, �
�This art nouveau architectural wonder was designed by Antoni Gaudi. He’s a famous Catalan Modernist architect, and this is not the only building he designed.” The Dutchman directed our attention to another structure across the road. I was amazed to see another sui generis edifice sandwiched between a couple of tall buildings.

  “This is the fascinating Casa Batlló,” Hans announced excitedly, “Another fine example of Gaudi’s creation.”

  Andy queried, “How is it that you know so much about Gaudi’s work?

  Before Hans could respond, Pratnah tweeted, “Hans is an architectural and engineering marvel. He attended the Universidad Politécnica de Madrid (Polytechnic University of Madrid) and graduated with honors.”

  Hans nodded coyly. My Valet was elated upon hearing this news. He had found a bosom pal with whom he could discuss engineering.

  As we stood admiring the exterior of these two spectacular edifices, Alfonso asked, “Do you guys want to come with me into the insurance company? I’m sure my dad’s friend Marcos wouldn’t mind you touring the place while I’m counselling with him.”

  The men in our group followed the Spaniard while the women went shopping in the vicinity. As Alfonso had envisaged, we toured the interior of Casa Milà with Hans as our personal guide. The Dutchman began, “Have you heard of Antoni Gaudí i Cornet?” We looked blankly at each other. He continued, “This Spanish Catalan was famous for his highly individualistic Modernist Art Nouveau architecture. He was also a fervent Catholic and devotee of the Virgin Mary. Antoni began construction of this house in 1905 for Roser Segimon and Pere Milà. The architect had planned for this home to be a spiritual symbol of his creative genius. In the original design draft, he had included a prayer – I think it was the Ave Maria – on the cornice, with statues of Our Lady of the Rosary and the two archangels, Michael and Gabriel, standing prominently on the roofs.