Ⅰ∙ⅱ I’m on fire, the Ocean here, wherever here is, seems to be blood temperature. It cools me not. Nor do the silken touches of my elfin companions, or my clumsy explorations of their forms. With fingers & hands moving, washing, caressing, exploring, all building the tempo, drawing energy into the matrix we are generating. I gaze now upon my companions, their forms exquisite in the moonlight. Their names come to me, my Lady I will call Sable, my Lord I will call Myrr. My lady is perfection of the naked female figure, her breasts slightly larger than handfuls are tipped by delicately pink aureolae, her nipples stiffening to point at me as my hot, hungry gaze moves over them. My gaze moves across the smooth expanse of her belly, downwards over her mount and its silken patch of earthen hued curls towards the secret vale hidden betwixt those long sensuous legs. I can just make out the smoothness of her nether lips, I must kiss her. My gaze moves down but my hand moves up, upwards to cup first one pale orb then the other, rolling each nipple in turn between gentle fingers. Her breath comes in short gasps, but so does mine. Gods, my Lord Myrr has begun to traverse the uncharted reaches of my body, upwards, onwards along the sensitive skin of my inner thigh and then pushing, probing. Part of my brain screams violation, but here now in the midst of a whirlwind of sensation that threatens to end in delirium, I care not. I lean over to kiss her as she grasps the shaft of my spear, using the pad of her thumb to trace gentle circles upon it’s silky head, in the most maddening fashion. We kiss, my hand traces down her spine, into the cleft of her derriere, finding first her sweet little rosebud. She gasps, eyes widened as I gently probe. Rolling her hips she urges me forward, her eyes smouldering, She twitches as my fingers find and part her inner lips, laying open the gate to her womanliness and drawing forth the honey from her well. I turn to him and without reservation reach for him, cupping first the smooth hairless purse holding his manly jewels, then tracing the seam of skin dividing it, then onwards to grasping the trembling shaft of his man spear. Abstracted from myself I kissed his lips then sucked his tongue, knowing somehow it was necessary. And all the while a cloud of arousal, almost unbearable, seethed in, around and between us. By some unspoken thought we moved as one to some slightly deeper water. There sinking to our knees, we held each other close, frotting, probing, stroking, kissing as one. No-one neglected, each giving and receiving their share. It soon came to pass that I should take the middle position of this passionate tangle of bodies, Myrr behind me, Sable to the fore, facing me, sitting astride my raging member, her inner lips parted and spread to kiss me where our bodies met. And I sat astride Myrr’s hardness, sandwiching his shaft in the cleft of my butt as he tweaked my nipples from behind. And we writhed and gyrated, moaning, gasping, kissing ever more deeply and ardently. I felt ready to explode, Sable was at the edge, each gyration causing her tender, inflamed love-button to brush my silken shaft, resulting in convulsive twitches racking her trembling body and cries ringing out in syllables I had never heard. Myrr was climbing the mountain quickly, too quickly for our purpose, I perceived. His short rubbing thrusts were becoming more staccato, at times the engorged head of his manhood knocking upon my secret hidden door, the one that had never yet been entered. As for me, my short concerted gyrations brought my own manhood perilously close to passing the threshold of her femininity and into oblivion. Sensation was exquisite & coupled with the incomprehensible burning need to be filled with the pumping silky hardness moving beneath me, almost uncontrollable. The command, ”STOP!” came thundering in my head, but was silent to my ears, in a voice seemingly composed of our three voices. It was enough, the spell abated enough for us to disengage & rise without dissolving the delicate matrix of energies we were raising. In close contact we made our way, in unison, to the soft grassy hummock just above the beach. A flask seemingly appeared from nowhere, and we were all anointed with a heady fragrant oil. Sable turned to us both with a smouldering glint of mischief, guided us to be arm in arm, quite close, facing her, with our raging members nodding and twitched at her. She grasped both of us, and looked hungrily , her tongue flicking her upper teeth, from one to the other, stroking and teasing us. She was comparing! If I hadn’t been aflame with the need for contact, I would have laughed at the humanness of the act. So we stood together Myrr & I, as comrades in arms, as this pale elfin beauty with the hungry eyes and the knowing hands slid gracefully, almost languidly to her knees before us, her gaze fixed firmly on the rampant twitching treasures she held, one in each hand.