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 Flowers in Her Hair

The flowers were waiting for Julie when she pulled up to her apartment.  A bouquet of daisies resting upon the welcome mat putting a smile on her face.  Even after all these years, she mused as she unlocked the door, then closed it behind her before searching for an unused vase to set them on, settling on a glazed pink cylinder, which was placed on near the kitchen window.  She’d always loved flowers.  The backyard was small, but there was enough room to keep a carefully tended garden; a riot of color that always brought a smile to her face, even on the gloomiest of days.   Feeling suddenly nostalgic, she put on the stereo and pulled out an album, slipping the vinyl disc from a well-worn sleeve before queuing it up on the turntable.  Creeque Alley by The Mama and the Papas, singing along effortlessly, her thoughts light years away.

She knew all about getting itchy, only, in her case, she hadn’t stood on the turnpike with her thumb out to go to New York. She’d gotten away from the city that never sleeps and headed west.  She let the song play on, pulling open the fridge door with the intention of grabbing a beer, changing her mind at the last minute. It was Friday, after all. A little decadence suited her mood.  Leaving the music playing, she went to the bedroom and shed her jeans and blouse, revealing cotton panties decorated with colorful butterflies and a matching bra.  Hidden behind the doors of the wardroom was a letterbox where she kept a small baggie of weed and her pipe.  She paused as she grabbed both, glancing at the hand-decorated photo album she’d stowed away as well. 

“Oh, what the hell,” she mumbled, pulling it out as well and tossing it onto the covers before joining it, sitting cross-legged, leaning back against the pillow and carefully packing her pipe before taking a long draw of the herb, holding it in her lungs for as long as she could while she idly ran her fingers over the cloth cover at her side, eventually exhaling a cloud of smoke and opening to the first page.  Daisies, just like the ones on the kitchen counter, only pressed flat and dried. A memory from a lifetime ago.  Beneath them was a faded photo. Her, the very same flowers woven into a chain and worn like a crown atop hair of deep brown that framed a smiling face.  She was wearing a short tie-dyed dress, sandals, and a brown suede jacket with fringe hanging from the sleeves, green eyes hidden behind huge black circles framed by white plastic.  She had one hand raised in a peace sign for the camera.  

“I was so high that night,” she chuckled before taking another hit.  “And you were too.”

Behind her, dwarfing her by a foot, one hand resting almost possessively  on her shoulder, a good looking guy, his jawline strong, his smile full of amusement, dark wavy hair spilling over his shoulders, his eyes dark, had you been able to see them behind a pair of dark tinted glasses with round lens and thin gold wire frames. 

“Hi there, sexy.”  He was wearing tight fitting striped trousers, hand shoved into one pocket, beetle boots, and a burnt orange Nehru jacket, unbuttoned to reveal a smooth chest beneath.

“What a night,” she murmured, pushing the album away as she lay back, staring up at the ceiling, and killed the pipe, letting her high carry her back to the past…

California Dreaming

She half walked, half ran as the faded yellow Volkswagon bus pulled to the shoulder, one hand clutching the handle of well-used worn leather suitcase tightly. It contained everything that was important to her. Well, almost everything, she thought, laughing to herself, her bright green eyes sparkling with mirth as she noticed the bumper sticker.  Gas, Ass, or Grass. Nobody Rides for Free. 

“Where you headed?”

“West. Far as you can take me.”

“Cool. Get in.  Brett.”

“Julie. Thanks, man.”

West. Something had been pulling at her ever since she’d heard that song on the radio.  Yeah, she was headed to San Francisco.  Why, she couldn’t explain, but it felt like a primal urge and she’d been on the road ever since, her thumb upturned every time a car drew near, each ride bringing her closer to her goal…

Jay had been the first, carrying her from New York City to Harrisburg.  They’d shared a joint while sharing a sandwich in a small meadow just off the road and made out on the sun-warmed grass, laughing as he groped her breasts, encouraging him until their make-out session turned to lovemaking.  Afterwards, she lay, naked under the sun, her head in his lap as he talked of seeing Dylan at the Newport Jazz Festival. The feeling of freedom was heady.  This, she thought, was who she was meant to be.  It was the reason she’s packed her bag after hearing Scott McKenzie’s call. She was in motion…

After Jay came Louis. He listened to Jazz, educating her enthusiastically about every song on the radio station.  “I was named after Louie Armstrong,” he informed her, his smile as bright as his skin was dark.  “Mom and dad would be mortified if they knew,” she told him after fumbling in the back seat of his Buick, her panties around her thighs, her skirt hiked up around her waist, her blouse unbuttoned, exposing her breasts.  Above the parked car, the stars twinkled merrily with apparent approval as she cried out in ecstasy a second time as she felt his seed burst within her.  Spent, he’d drifted off to sleep, still inside her, while she drifted in and out of contented dreams.

And then came Steve and Becky. Steve was older; a college professor of English, on a sabbatical.  Tall, with dark hair and piercing eyes and high cheekbones.  Becky was his girlfriend as well as one of his students. Blonde and blue-eyed with a body that suggested she spent Friday nights leading cheers on the football field.

“Want to trip out with us?” Becky had whispered into Julie’s ear just while passing through the cornfields of Ohio, the three of them hip to hip on the bench seat of a gold-colored Rambler station wagon.  “You’ll love it. I promise.”

And she had. Every sense seemed heightened, everything seemed so vivid.  They’d spent the night in a rented lodge near Indianapolis, high as kites, doing things that she’d only imagined, and some that she hadn’t. She’d been fucked in her bottom, succumbing to mind-blowing ecstasy while Becky licked her ‘down there’, returning the favor; tasting another girl for the first time. She swapped semen with her after she’s blown him.  She’d even let the blonde put her tongue In her bottom while she sucked on Steve’s engorged prick.  Three days she’d spent, getting an eye-opening education she’d never expected, leaving her feeling freer than she’d ever imagined and with an appetite for more as she made her way slowly across the continental U.S.  

Karl had picked her up outside of Springfield in a convertible.  After an hour of listening to him extol the virtues of Lyndon B. Johnson, she’d had enough, turned up the radio and took off her top, exposing herself to countless motorists.  She especially enjoyed the attention from the truckers who would blast their horn and wave as they were passed.  She never noticed as they entered Iowa.  She was too busy sucking on his dick as he sped down the highway, the car swerving when he finally climaxed.  She amazed herself, swallowing every last drop. 

Outside of Des Moines, she caught a ride with Clarence and Dan, sitting in the back seat, centered so that they could see her in the rearview mirror as she hiked her skirt up and got herself off with her fingers after they’d passed a joint around.  Later, she’d ridden, first Dan, straddled over his hips while Clarence watched, and then Clarence, while Dan watched.

The trip through Nebraska was made memorable by a lightning storm in which she took shelter with Amy, a married mother of two, on her way back from visiting her aunt.  It was a night of firsts for the older woman.  The first time she’d ever smoked marijuana, the first time she’d had her pussy eaten, and the first time she’d been with another woman, none of which she admitted to regretting. 

She’d spent the night at a bus stop, her clothes still soaked from the summer storm and clinging to her youthful curves, doing her best to brush the dampness from her brunette tresses that fell halfway down her back, with only enough dough left for one last decent meal. Not that she was worried. Optimism infused her, warming her from within even as she shivered in the Greyhound restroom.  

And then, along came Brett.

“Why San Francisco?”

“I want to wear flowers in my hair,” she answered, laughing self-consciously, imagining how it must sound.

“Like the song. I can dig it.”

“Where you headed?”

“I have family in Seattle. Thought I might crash there for a while.  That was before I met you.”

That night, they’d camped out under the stars smoking hashish from a pipe and then making slow, sensual love beneath the full moon.  It seemed to last for hours, and she became lost in the hazy surreal sensuality brought on by the drug. Afterwards, they lay entwined and naked on the blanket he’s spread out on the ground listening to the car radio.

“Hear this before?” he asked.  “The Doors. Listen.”

And she did, digging the pulsing organ notes, the singer's voice darkly seductive, calling to her to break on through. Afterwards, they’d made love again before falling asleep.  That night her dreams swirled around her head like dark serpents, twisting and writhing around her as she floated in an ocean of slow-moving colored lights, reminding her of the jellyfish she’d once seen at the aquarium during her short visit to New York City.

New sights and sounds become her milestones, replacing new faces. They spent three days in Yellowstone and its magical geysers and colorful hot springs and her first look at wild animals roaming free while hearing, for the first time The Jefferson Airplane performing Somebody to Love and White Rabbit and the Beatle’s Strawberry Fields Forever.

“What do you think?” Brett asked, as the song ended. 

“Trippy.  Blowing my mind,” she replied dreamily, recalling the acid trip with Steve and Becky as she leaned back in her seat, her bare feet up on the dashboard, and took a hit off a joint before passing it back to him.

As they crossed the seemingly endless deserts of Utah, she was introduced to For What it’s Worth and A Whiter Shade of Pale. And then, there was the familiar.  California Dreaming.  Good Vibrations.  Summer in the City.  Although she was anxious to get to the coast, she never once objected to the detours. They spent a full day exploring Capitol Reef, wandering through Cohab Canyon while tripping on a tab. Later that evening, they made frenzied love in the shadow of Cassidy Arch, giggling and laughing at the prospect of getting caught.

The next day was celebrated by a leisurely stroll through Bryce Canyon before heading west once more, Dave shirtless as he drove, his toned chest glistening with sweat, Julie wearing only a pair of damp cotton panties and a bra as they bounced along the endless highway, the sun beating down on the beat up bus. Even the night was warm and Dave splurged, paying for an air-conditioned room at a relatively modern motel once they hit Reno.

That night, they celebrated their imminent arrival into the promised land with a bottle of inexpensive wine and a heated romp that started on the bed and ended up in the bathtub, both of them laughing and giggling like kids in a candy factory.  Two days later they were standing in Golden Gate Park, eyes full of wonder at the gathering that they’d become part of. Everywhere they looked there were people their age, dressed in bright colors conversing intensely, playing, dancing, kissing... it was paradise, as promised.  They turned the VW van into a temporary home, immersing themselves into the slowly growing gathering, becoming one with kindred spirits, and forging friendships, some that would burn brightly before being lost in the night, others that would last a lifetime…

San Francisco

The little house on Beulah Street wasn’t much to look at, but it felt right.  Painted red, it boasted a small backyard filled with colorful wildflowers carefully tended to by the current residents, Paul and Molly.  They’d been invited to stay as long as they did their part in the communal living arrangements and, of course, chipped in with the rent whenever possible. Paul played guitar and worked at the local music store while Molly spent her days working at a bookstore and her nights getting high and writing poems about witches and cats, most of which were intentionally humorous. 

There were three other residents.  Cyrus, Peter, and Sharon, all of whom had arrived in the city, much as Julie and Brett had, only several months earlier. It felt, strangely, like home, and strangers became family over the course of a weekend, sharing tales of their lives before coming to San Francisco, their travels, their hope and dreams, usually while passing a joint around the circle they’d form in the living room, sitting on the floor, the furniture being somewhat minimal. 

“I grew up in Greece,” Cyrus shared, his accented voice melodic.  “Our house overlooked the sea and I spent most of my days on the water, fishing.”

“Sounds like utopia,” Julie sighed, picturing serene waters beneath a cloudless sky. “Why did you leave?”

“The world is too big, not to want to see all of it.  Someday, I will move on again, but for now, this feels right.  I am with family now.”

Julie and Brett shared a bed most nights, but it wasn’t uncommon for any of the free spirits to flow from one bed to another, trading partners almost nightly, sometimes several of them coming together to inhabit Paul and Molly’s huge bed, tangled together beneath the sheets, the sounds of laughter mixing with the more primal sounds of love and sex.

 Every day it seemed there the streets were a little more colorful.  The park began to feel like a festival, full of music and laughter.  Julie spent much of her free time immersing herself in the joy that seemed to be spreading the improvised community that had taken root in the Haight-Ashbury drew more and more crowds.  Soon, she went from feeling like the new girl – an outsider – to feeling right at home.  People she’d only met a week, or even a day ago, would greet her with smiles.  Some days she’d share a joint while reclining on the steps of a Queen Anne-styled house on Ashbury Street while listening to the music of The Grateful Dead spill from the open windows while Hell’s Angels gathered across the street drinking beer. Other days she’d slip off to the park and trip out on acid with friends she’d just met moments before. It was all she had dreamed of when she’d set off on her journey and more.  Home, at last.   

See Emily Play

Her name was Emily, although everyone called her Sunshine. Long blonde hair and eyes the color of a cloudless sky, she looked like she’d stepped out of a fairy ring one night and decided to stay a while.  Julie had spotted her dancing in front of a trio of musicians in the park, her face painted with flowers, hearts, and rainbows.  She’d joined her, the grass cool under her bare feet, laughing when the fairy girl pulled her in for a playful kiss. It seemed natural to ask her to move into the rented house on Beulah, raising the population to eight.  She, as much as everyone else, took great delight in the casual living arrangements, pairing up with several lovers during the course of the night, flitting from bed to bed like the fairy she resembled, bringing magic with her.  Everyone at the House on Beulah quickly became enamored of her. 

“Where are we going?” Julie asked, allowing herself to be led by the hand, Emily’s slender fingers gripping hers loosely.

“Wonderland,” she giggled, pausing to push her bangs from her eyes, her hips swaying playfully as she pulled her along the sidewalk towards the park, navigating by streetlight and the reflected light of the full moon, darkness cloaking them both as they left the beaten path and ventured through the dark shadows beneath the trees that inhabited Golden Gate Park.

“Not too much farther,” she giggled, breathless with mirth as Julie squeezed her hand tighter.  Eventually, she spotted what appeared to be fairy lights shining through the trees, and heard the sound of voices.

“Here we are.”

Julie found herself standing at the edge of a small clearing bordering a very large pond. Several figures sat upon the ground, passing around a bottle.  Embers lit several faces and she smelled the intoxicating scent of marijuana mingling with tobacco and something else, something sickly sweet.

“You came,” a disembodied baritone voice rose from nearby.

“I said I would. And I brought a friend.”

Julie’s took in the scene, her eyes having adjusted to the night, the glowing orb above enough to give her a good look at the men.  The looked rough around the edges, although not quite as dangerous as the bikers at 715 Ashbury.  Older, too.  In their 30's or 40's, although plenty attractive. 

“Have a seat,” one of them motioned to the ground next to him.  Julie noted that, like the others, he was wearing a pair of blue jeans, a white t-shirt, leather jacket, and black leather boots.  His hair was dark and fell in waves past his broad shoulders.  As she lowered herself, she noted a dark marking on his bicep.  A tattoo of a black panther.  The words below were indecipherable in the wan moonlight.

She was handed the bottle, taking a cautious exploratory sip, glad she had a whiskery burned the back of her throat, making her cough.  The joint that was passed to her next was much more welcome, despite the unaccustomed sweetness of the hit.

“Hashish,” the baritone voice answered, voice slightly slurred, when she asked. 

“This is Julie,” Emily spoke up, settling against the speaker, obviously deciding introductions were needed.  “This is Rick.”

“Jack,” the man next to her took over, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her slightly closer.  “Jimmy, Armando, Pete, Rob.

Julie smiled, feeling the high hit her suddenly, a tickle teasing through her head, making her feel incredibly happy. She felt like she was floating and, at the same time, anchored to the earth.  Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, enjoying the sensation of Jack’s arm around her, his finger lightly caressing her hip as she leaned into him.  He smelled, not unpleasantly, masculine. A mixture of whiskey, smoke, sweat, and engine.  She caught Emily’s eye just before the girl lay back and pulled Rick on top of her, kissing him deeply, shaking her head at the girl’s forwardness, laughing at herself as, moments later she found herself lying face up on dirt, leaves, and grass, he mouth on hers.  She parted her lips, welcoming his tongue as he kissed her deeply, wasting no time, unbuttoning her paisley blouse and peeling her bra strap from her shoulder. 

Julie sense nearby movement.  Moments later, the moon was blotted out by shadows as two others joined the biker, helping him undress her, their hands all over her, groping her, exploring her body, roughly squeezing her ass and tits. Nearby she heard Emily’s playful giggle turn into a hungry moan as she, presumably, got the same treatment.  His stubble scrapped her face, not unpleasantly as she turned her head, her lips seeking Jimmy’s or Pete’s or…. she had no idea, not that it mattered.

“Love the one you’re with,” she murmured as her skirt was hiked up and thick fingers slid up her inner thighs making her gasp with need.  She felt her panties being wrestled down her legs and left wrapped around one ankle as she spread her leg open for Jack as she fumbled at his jeans, attempting to free him, his zipper defeating her best efforts until he finally took the matter into his own hand.

“Oh, yes,” she moaned, as another mouth covered hers, exhaling, and filling her lungs with more of the sweet smoke, boosting her high moments later.  In the background, she was faintly aware of Emily’s cries of pleasure as she climaxed.  Envious, Julie wrapped her legs around Jack’s as he parted her sensitive lips as gently as he could and pushed himself into her dripping wetness, filling her with the thickest prick she’d ever experience.

“Oh, god. Yes!”

He began to thrust into her, pinning her to the ground with his wait as the other two touched her everywhere, sometimes gently, sometimes roughly, each touch igniting an inferno within her core, the pressure building inside of her until she erupted as well.  Moments later, Jack grunted loudly, his huge member pulsing even as she clenched against him, and filling her with his seed.

“Fuck, yeah,” he breathed, laying on top of her long enough to catch his breath before rolling to one side and letting someone else take his place.

She felt, rather than saw, the head of a cock pressing against her cheek. Wrapping her hand around it, she guided it to her mouth, her tongue playing over the surface, the slick taste of pre-cum making her burn with desire. Opening her mouth, she engulfed it, sucking on the engorged head while another stretched her wide, penetrating her easily, so slick was she with a mixture of semen and her own juices.  She could feel it leaking out of her, tickling her ass.

“Hot little thing, aren’t you?”  He pushed deep into her, so deep that she gasped, enabling the other man to push his erection into her open mouth until she felt his balls against her face, swallowing hard as she fought for breath.

Somewhere close by, she could hear Emily crying out passionately, obviously lost in pleasure as an orgasm ripped through her.   Moments later, she joined her, her climax blossoming suddenly deep within and spreading through her limbs, robbing her of her vision, momentarily.

“Goddamn!” she heard as the prick inside her mouth twitched, swelling as it released its load into her mouth, much of it spilling down her chin.

“Yes,” she hissed as her still pulsing sex was filled with more cum, sending her immediately into the throes of another orgasm, overpowering her other senses as well.

“Holy shit.”

She had no idea whose exclamation.  All she knew was it mirrored her own thoughts.  Before she’d had a chance to catch her breath she felt a tongue lapping at her cum filled pussy and her button of pleasure, sending her, once more, towards impossible heights, the effects of the hashish drifting like clouds through her head, tickling her brain.  She reached down, her fingers tangling in silken hair, her back arching, hips rocking and rolling as she ground them against the magical mouth that was driving her to new heights.  She could make out movement and shapes, becoming aware that one of the guys had risen up behind whoever was between her thighs, his hand on their hips – her hips, the realization hit her suddenly – as Emily started sucking and tonguing at her cum filled pussy, relishing it from the noises she was making, grunting and moaning as she was thrust suddenly forward, obviously being fucked from behind.

Julie had very little time to process the revelation before she found herself fed another cock, this one tasting of Emily’s sex.  It was intoxicating and she devoured it hungrily while someone took her hand and guided it to their prick.  Eagerly, she jacked him off until he blew his load onto her stomach, setting off another powerful orgasm, her walls clenching against the blonde girl’s tongue…

She dozed after that, waking up, discovering Emily in her arms, the two of them sandwiched between two of the men, both of them naked and covered in sweat, saliva, and semen. 

“Hi,” Emily mumbled dreamily, kissing her tenderly. 

“Mmm,” she replied, smiling as she drifted off once again…

The next time she awoke, night had faded to a soft grey, and the moon had fled.  A blanket covered her and her cheek rested on a chest much more masculine than her friend’s. 

“Hey, babe.  Hungry?” 

She nodded, her stomaching growling suddenly.  “Starving.”

Day Tripper

Julie took another hit the pipe, sucking holding the smoke in her lungs for as long as she could manage, letting it out slowly, already feeling the high spreading through her as she slipped her hand back into her panties, running her fingers slowly between her soft lips, a rhythmic up and down, fingers dripping wet, hips roll rocking up and down.  She closed her eyes, recalling the walk home through the park, clothes disheveled and damp and smelling of sex.  Holding onto each other, giggling as they stumbled their home where they’d spilled onto the bed that Julie’d been sharing with Brett.  

“Hey,” he’d managed as they’d crawled on top of him, shedding clothes, leaving a trail from the front door to the bed, climbing on top of him, naked and laughing, and god, both still so horny.

“Hey, lover,” she’d whispered in his ear, grinding her leaking pussy against his thigh while Emily pulled down the covers and went to work on his growing prick with her mouth. 

“I was so in love with both of you.”

Pausing, she adjusted the pillow behind her, half sitting up so she could remove her bra. She teased her nipples, playfully pulling them as she sucked the juices from her fingers.   “So in love…”

They’d taken turns fucking him, none of them able to get enough.  After he’d filled Emily’s well-fucked cunt with jism, Julie’d returned the favor from earlier, going down on the blonde girl, taking her time licking her, enjoying the sounds of mewing pleasure coming from her mouth.  It hadn’t taken Brett long to regain his erection watching the Sapphic scene.  He pushed his prick, slick with both of their juices, slowly into Julie’s tight puckered ass…

Leaning forward, she pushed her wet finger into her ass, relaxing and pushing out as she felt her knuckle spread her even wider, grunting softly, the fingers of her other hand curling into her pulsing pussy…

Somebody to Love

It was an idyllic summer, the sun catching the mood of the city and showering the Haight-Ashbury in golden rays.  The gathering grew, taking over the park, spilling out into the adjacent neighborhoods.  The cops had begun keeping a close eye on things, nervously patrolling the streets in pairs, making the occasional bust for pot whenever they felt safe in doing so.  Brett had ‘rented’ out his van to a couple from Oregon and their dog who used the kitchen to bake hash brownies for the rest of the house.  As often as not they crashed out on Emily’s mattress.  She rarely slept alone.  Lately, she’d taken up with Cyrus, as well as sharing Brett and Julie’s bed, while Sharon and Pete had become inseparable as a couple.  

“What do you think?” Julie asked Brett, holding up a newly painted sign for his inspection.

“Paradise.  Sounds about right.  Want help putting it up?”

“Sure,” she laughed, handing it to him. “You can do the honors.”

After he’d nailed it above the front door, she led him through the house to the small garden out back, coyly slipping out of her dress and settling down on a small patch of grass, naked.

“Paradise indeed,” Brett said, his voice husky with emotion as he settled behind her.  “A goddess deserves a crown”.

She sat still as he wove daisies into her tresses, pausing on occasion to kiss the nape of her neck and shoulders, sending delightful little goosebumps through her. Afterwards, they made love, lying naked beneath the summer sun afterwards, wrapped in each other’s arms, content with the comfortable silence that lay over them like a familiar quilt.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured before dozing off for a while.

“So sweet,” she responded, her heart hitching with emotion as she kissed him softly, lost in his eyes as they fluttered sleepily closed, kissing his chest tenderly, before settling her head upon it, his heart beating in her air as she gazed at the flowers surrounding them, her thoughts floating upwards, weaving through the clouds, looking down at the city from above until she too, dozed off, practically glowing with joy.

Wild Thing

That night, there was something in the air. Something restless and primal.  An energy.  They’d caught a ride out to the sunset district earlier that day, getting word that there’d be a gathering on the beach.  She, like a multitude of other women, had stripped down to her underwear and frolicked on the sand, dancing and splashing and trying to outrun the waves as they rolled up on shore, joyfully breathless. People had brought guitars and bongos and were gathered in groups, dotting the beach, jamming and laughing and getting high. That evening, she’d taken mushrooms for the first time, as had the rest of the household, and gathered around an impromptu fire pit, knit together by a love that she’d never felt before.  The family she’d never had.  Certainly closer than the one she’d left behind when she’d run away from home. 

“Can you see them?”  Sharon almost shouted with excitement, pointing directly into the flames. “Dragons! A whole swarm of them!”

Julie smiled, nodding, easily picking them out as they flickered in and out of the fire, smoke bellowing from their nostrils, their tails swishing recklessly and throwing up sparks, sparks that shape changed into wild fairies the moment they were freed…

“I’m too high.” It was more of a question than a statement, one meant for her own ears.

“No such thing,” Brett laughed, pulling her into his arms and kissing her hard on the mouth, his tongue pushing eagerly past her welcoming lips. 

She pulled Brett closer, the flames dancing like angry sprites, throwing shadows over them as waves rolled up the beach, spent on the sparkling sand.  Although it was impossible, she felt like she could hear the beat of drums spilling out from the park, or maybe it was their heartbeats that thundered through her veins as he took her beneath the blanket, the sand cool against her impossibly hot flesh.  Above them the stars pulsed and burst in brilliant explosions of rainbow-colored light while around them, a menagerie of mythological creatures circled, laughing and leering, changing shape every time she blinked. The night had been transformed to wild magic. She was vaguely aware of Emily’s ever-present sensual giggle in response to Cyrus’s words, though she couldn’t make out what they were, too lost in Brett’s eyes to take any real interest. 

“I love you.”  His words or hers, she wasn’t sure.  Maybe just words captured by the breeze and pulled across eternity, slipping into her thoughts.  Suddenly, she was lifted into the air, landing on her feet, twirling naked on the beach, face tilted to the heavens, hair flowing out like a veil behind her. And then, higher, feet leaving the earth, strong arms encircling her, cocooned in laughter and love, the sky moving above, the sound of the ocean fading until it was nothing but a memory, the feel of a mattress beneath as much of a surprise as the multitude of mouths covering her. 

“I love you.”  A chorus of voices crowding the bed.  Emily’s mouth tickling between her thighs, tongue lapping, filling her with unearthly pleasure. Cyrus teeth on her nipple making her cry out, the sound muted by Brett’s fierce kiss as he devoured her.   She could hear the Doors somewhere in the house, playing Light My Fire as she watched Cyrus take Emily from behind, pushing her face against her neat bush and her tongue deeper into her wet puss. 

She’d never asked how they’d gotten back to the house she’d dubbed Paradise.  Instead, she’d decided to suspend all disbelief and assume it was simply magic that transported them from the beach.  She vaguely recalled Emily squeezing a couple of drops of liquid LSD from an eye dropping onto her nipples so that she and Brett could suckle on them, sucking them until they were so swollen she feared they might explode.  The room was bathed in every color of the rainbow and some that she had no name for that, for all she knew, were new to the spectrum.  She felt fingers in her mouth that tasted like puss, and lapped at them like lollypops, fingers that became pricks, thick and swollen with lust.  She groaned as she felt her ass stretch, almost painfully, filled by a dripping wet cock.  She writhed with pleasure as another pushed between her velvet lips, the two sliding against each other as she was slowly fucked.  A mouth on her nipple, sucking, nibbling… she jerked as she was suddenly bitten, pleasure coursing up and down her spine, her body one gigantic goosebump.  Her mouth settled on someone’s pussy, Sharon’s perhaps, and she began lapping slowly, enjoying the feeling of them shivering against her face as she pushed her tongue between puffy lips, lapping at the nectar within. 

The cock in her ass stiffened and inflated, filling her with cum, a masculine moan filling her ear.  Fingers stroked her hot flesh, touching and exploring, teasing moans from her otherwise occupied lips until she climaxed hard, crying out wordlessly, wailing along to Jim Morrison’s poetry as the record spun to its conclusion.  She felt someone cumming inside of her as Cyrus pulled out, his jism leaking from her ass, a tongue lapping it up like milk.  Sharon spasming against her mouth, climaxing endlessly, her orgasm rolling into another, and then another, until Julie lost track…

She came again, moaning into Paul’s mouth, Brett taking her from behind, on her hands and knees, Emily beneath her, sucking on her pleasure button as she did the same.  Somewhere in the distance, she heard a siren wail until it was drowned out by her own urgent cried of passion, and faded from memory…

They’d slept until noon, everyone eventually finding their own beds, leaving Brett to her.  This time, their lovemaking had been tender, loving, almost spiritual.

“I never want you not to be in my life,” he told her with a kiss during a lull.  She answered with a smile, pulling him to her again, rubbing herself against him sensuously until he grew hard enough to penetrate her once more.

Later, Emily joined them again, laughing as she crawled under the covers, kissing Julie’s breasts playfully as they both fondled her, Brett eventually growing hard enough for her to ride him while Julie watched, clutching her hand as the blonde came on top of her lover, taking the other girl in her arms when she was done, the three of them laying tangled under the sheets until sleep claimed them, bringing with it, such languid dreams.

‘Scuse Me While I Kiss the Sky

She came hard, crying out Brett’s name, eyelashes fluttering with the intensity of it, coupled with her memory of that wild night, her orgasm so hard that she soaked the bedspread with her juices.  Afterwards, she lay breathlessly, panting slowly, her flesh tingling pleasurably as she relaxed, smiling up at the ceiling and beyond.

Eventually, she rose, trembling still as she fished a small paper tab with a rainbow colored star on it from a small box hidden at the back of her sock drawer, extending her tongue and placing it on the tip, trying to recall the last time she’d tripped.  The last time Emily’d been by.  Christmas…

“Like old times,” she mused, as she wandered out in the backyard, naked, hand trailing over the wild petals, wondering if she should give Brett a call and let him know that they’d be having company or if she’d leave it as a surprise.  It had been too long since Emily had dropped in on them, always announcing her visits with a bouquet of daisies. Too long since the three of them had shared a bed.  Still glowing from the orgasm she’d given herself, as well as the acid that was slowly spreading through system, she settled down, cross-legged, on the small patch of grass that Brett jokingly called their lawn, and watched the butterflies flit lazily about, eventually laying back and enjoying the clouds floating lazily through a perfectly blue sky.

---

A while back, Hurricane Maria came through and decimated the Island of Puerto Rico. I held a little contest to help out, promising to write the winner a custom story. This is the result, and thank you, PrettyWild, for whom this was written, for your generous gift to the people of Puerto Rico.  I would be remiss if I didn't thank the other members who helped out as well, so here is everyone that donated. 

mad martigan
gillianleeza
oceanrunner
robertl
iamlove
buz
browncoffee
the sensual lady
Lilly/Tony
Whiskey Violet
KathrynEllie
shameless flirt
prettywild
purepurplepassion
Hera T
Greenman
james bondage

I can't thank any of you enough. Love to all of you.

xx

rachel