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This follows Book 3 part 6 of the tale, finishing the tale of the Prince in Peru. After the presentations to the Tribe and the Colony, it is now time for the official actions: Tango’s Bachelor Party, his Marriage, and the elevations to Retainer status. Mostly these are chances to meet the people of the Colony is a social setting. The Patron also has his large, loud surprise inbound.
The bulk of this text is the Bachelor party, with background in chapter 48 and the performances in chapters 49, 50 and 51. Chapters 46, 52 and 55 also include people being very friendly. Chapter 57 includes the arrangements being planned for the Five.
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Chapter 46.
Wednesday July 16, 2008
Cynthia and I were awakened at dawn by the women starting their laundry in the next room. The people were chatting, but it was the machines noises that woke us. We had spent the night at the Laundry in the supervisor’s suite, designed for the person intended to keep the place running. But the machines purchased were very durable, and the people used them with care, so a keeper was not needed.
The kitchen had packed a breakfast basket for us and delivered it in an oversized “milk slot” next to the door. (I imagine that few readers recall the days when a delivery of milk and perhaps eggs was made to houses in the city each morning. Those delivery slots remain in many older neighborhoods. Delivery was by truck from the farm and then by horse or by foot in the city.) Cynthia was surprised to have a fresh meal, still warm from the oven, that she could nibble in bed without getting dressed. Butter on warm rolls – they were delicious and had to be eaten first, when hot – left us with no place to spread the berry jam until I pointed to the buns that Cynthia had with her. She was willing, she plopped down on the bed and served up her divine buns for me to spread the jam, then giggled as I liked her sweet bottom clean. Even for a Prince she said “turnabout is fair play,” so I served up the same. Her little kitten tongue may have strayed beyond the jam, we both served for the other with extra laughs. After that we were pretty shameless in our eating habits. When we returned the plates and utensils to the kitchen some did not need to be washed.
We did need another quick shower before we left, and as long as we were in the shower Cynthia decided she wanted me “one more time.” She knew how my overnight with baby-mama Gracie ended (they really got along well) and it was natural in her mind to finish up the same way – driving back to the house with my fresh cum in her body. She said that she was okay if I wanted to introduce her to a few of the guys, but we both knew that wasn’t going to happen. Instead she wanted a lot of playful oral fun in the shower before she bent over and I worked my cock into her body.
How could I say no to Cynthia? When she made the request she was deliberately posed like an erotic model, all kind of sexy showing her wet pussy and her tongue peeking out from her teeth, with sleepy eyes and a breathless tone of voice, caressing her pregnant lower tummy with one hand and offering an erect nipple, topped with a dollop of berry jam, with the other? Could any strong man say know to her.
I started with the nipple, licking the jam off then sucking it with enthusiasm until it was almost too much loving for her at that one spot. She had to ask, rhetorically, how long I though it would be before she was producing sweet nutritious milk… for the baby as well?
I knew what she wanted.
We started in the shower where I got the water right. Then with me on my knees before her, I “encouraged” her nipples as the first priority because they were so important, plus they felt so good to both of us. Also, she had read that sucking them regularly contributed to milk production, and she really wanted to feel her body feeding me… and my baby. Then after she backed into a corner I set my tongue to her pussy where I licked her aroused clit without mercy until she had a screaming climax. Without stopping I burrowed up the valley to her opening where I tongue-fucked her hole like a demon. She really liked that for a time, but it would not get her off, so she decided that maybe she had to try it from the back. So she turned around, cocked her hips to present her entrance, and hung onto the shower head as I worked her out.
For Cynthia, this morning, working my tongue from the back was in fact more successful, I could get the tip of my tongue in deeper so there was light, occasional contact tantalized the edge of her sensitive spot, building her excitement to an overloaded, “too turned on but can’t get off” level. In the process I accidently put the slightest amount of tension on her rosebud.
“What are you doing! That is so naughty… nasty… baby and I don’t want that today… feels good… no… feel TOO good… NO… NO MORE…”
Cynthia used the “baby and I” line when she was real greedy for something specific that SHE wanted, even when what I was doing Pursaklar Escort looked like going on another good track. I considered it very amusing, but I also knew it was better to keep my amusement to myself.
I should note that when her alter-ego of Sin-Sin took over, she was open for anything including anal with an audience. The baby was just along for the ride.
I backed off on her rosebud and gave her a chance to decide if it was time for the next stage. I was I going to be delighted to do that next stage. But she wanted a detour first.
As soon as I backed off she stood up straight, spun around, wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a deep kiss. I knew she was seeking her own pussy flavor in my mouth, it was a reassurance of a sort that she craved. Next she started to move her mouth down my body, licking and kissing all the way, with lingering stops at both my nipples and, when I put my arms up, she dug her mouth into my underarms. This is a private act for us, one she never acknowledges out loud. For her, it is a very private intimate kiss, our secret, something more private than rimming, and a stronger sign of two-way affection than anything else. She knows I eat other pussies, and do all manner of other things, but she believes that her doing this, and my letting her do it, is very close to exclusive as a bond between us. (She acknowledges that anything I do with Marta is special, because she is like my mother, and not anything like girlfriend.) Also, she likes doing it to me more than having it done to her. I can turn off the ticklish thing when she does it, but she can’t and being ticklish overrides the romance part.
She kept the mouth thing going until she got to my cock. There she spent a long time kissing (not sucking) with an excess of attention paid to underneath, the bottom of my shaft and my “wonderful life giving” balls. It was another indication that she was in a very baby-mama sort of mood.
That was when I put together that she recently had the sleepover with my two future wives, Mer and Pur. She was trying to assure herself of her own status in her own mind, vis-a-vis them those two charmers, who were selected to birth my heirs.
After a longer-than-usual period of oral worship, she asked if I would like to move forward as planned, or if I had another idea.
I wondered out loud about “where.”
She stressed how she wanted it from behind, standing, in the shower. But shower floors are the worst in any house and these were worse than average for slipperiness, so I mentioned that it was a potential concern for the baby. I suggested that maybe bending her over using the overstuffed chair was a better idea, to make sure we finished without anybody slipping.
She agreed.
The best position turned out to be her kneeling in the chair, facing the back, with her tits hung over the back. This was obviously a great position for sharing her, we both realized it, but she was in such a “just us” mood that there was no mention made of it. The weight of the chair allowed me to put more strength into my movement, which she liked as long as we were going fairly slow.
Seeing how she was displayed I was tempted to eat her pussy before putting it in, but she was determined to get us together as fast as possible, so I did what she asked. When we were both very comfortable with the fit inside her body she let out a gentle sigh and asked me to hold still. Standing rear entry sexing and a loving emotional connection do not usually go together, but in Cynthia’s unusual present mood it was working, her pretty head was in a good place. Then when I put my hands on her back, resting them, rubbing her muscles or just holding, she liked it all the more. Eventually I figured out that she was tripping on the idea of nursing our child, being centered on her nipple and her pussy at the same time. That made some sense, although she had talked about her mother nursing both their children, allowing Cynthia to keep her breast “pert” as long as possible.
When she began to move slightly I started slipping in and out of her. The position gave me a good long range of movement, and the movement was what she wanted. She focused on the sensation of plunging in, then easily pulling out, with my cockhead and ridge moving along the length of her canal like a piston in a soft cylinder.
There was not a lot of additional sensation, she liked my hands on her back but would not allow my hands access to her nipples or her pussy. For a young girl, growing a child who would follow the same path into the world of light, this was all she needed.
“Stoke me, open me, make easier the path…” she said again and again, just under her breath. “My Prince, your gift… my Prince, your gift… Oh my Prince, I am so happy you picked me that night. I am so happy you were the first. I am so happy you chose me… so happy…”
That was not quite the way I recalled things, in fact I considered Rus Escort that she tricked me with a lie, and I am hard to lie to! But I wasn’t about to argue the point, anyone who could trick me might make a good wife.
It did not take long for the discussion to change from history to current events. “My Prince… harder… do me harder, so strong…” I tried not to change the pace too much, but I moved stronger on the instroke, making her body shake as I put my legs into it, slamming into her. She was so good like this, taking my cock like a woman should, getting off and taking me with her. I started to feel my own climax. It was still in the distance, nothing to worry about, I was going to keep going until she was ready for it. Then we would both get what we wanted so we would feel good all day.
“That’s it… Yes… do me hard… that’s it… yes please… do me… sohard… yes… oh yes… uh… uh… right… right there… like that… oh yess… oh oh yesss… hard… my pr… my Prince… my lover yes… Yes YESS… OHYES… Ohhhhh… Close… Come… Cum… Oh Yess… NOW CUMMMMM!”
We were very close together as she surrendered her body to her climax and I surrendered my cum to her body. We were both in the same breath, maybe the same heartbeat. Even if the first was a tiny bit off what followed was perfect, at the slow pace we were able to match her shudders with my firing spasms. Our bodies celebrated again the special body that bound our hearts, as much as my black heart could allow itself to be bound.
When she was done and I was done and not a moment too soon or too late I gathered her body in my arms, took a step towards the couch, and settled us there with her whispering happy, peaceful phrases. I nibbled on her ear and told her she was wonderful, special, marvelous, fantastic… etc. I started to throw in some Spanish and Tribal terms, which always brought a giggle because they were so strange to her. She was happy to sit there until I nibbled her ear off or I ran out of terms.
As a lawyer I have a LOT of words to whisper, I started to slip in some Latin. As I knew she would, eventually her mood shifted and she got antsy to go about the business of the day. I could have held out for a few moments longer.
When we got dressed it seemed like half the married women in the tribe were gathered around, sharing gossip until we came out. One look at Cynthia – she was introduced when I talked to the Colony, including disclosure of the “bun in the oven” – and they all knew what we had been doing. The level of laughter in the gossip rose and Cynthia became rather a delightful shade of pink. I just smiled like I knew what they were thinking… and had done a bit more… because I was the Prince they all knew and loved. With the White Scarf my grandfather had bedded many of them, introducing the mysteries, and they were hoping I would bed their daughters someday to do the same.
Perhaps with Cynthia instructing their sons or son-in-laws as well. That was the Patron’s idea.
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As we walked back to the house we were not alone. Mer and Pur seemed to be among the people gathered at the washing machines, one of the women from the house was helping them. But once things were started they had time on their hands. Walking with me and Cynthia seemed a fine use for their time.
We held hands, it was very comfortable to walk through the Colony with the girls, holding hands. They had picked up quite a bit in the few days here. They said the high point, after meeting me and saving their Chief, was meeting all my ladies, like Cynthia and Resha and Gracie and Belen.
I pointed out the distinctions, which they knew. But Mer thought this was much better. “Before, when we heard the names they were without faces, almost monsters to us, competing for you.”
Pur continued, “But now we know them. We see how you treat them and us as friends. The distinction between, say, Cynthia and Resha becomes incidental, since you have picked them all, and we see why you did. We want to be their friends so we are also worthy of you attention.”
Mer picked it up again, “We know you didn’t pick us like you picked them. But we have time to grow on you.” She hugged me and rubbed her body against me,
Cynthia was charmed by the way they were so in-sync in their thoughts and words. “My parents do that sometimes, but these two are really good.”
“A side effect of how we were raised together, competing in everything. We always had to think like the others to get ahead, but stay on the course.” Both girls had figured that tricky bit out, it said a lot about them.
I did not pick them, but I never had to stay on the course in a competition either. Maybe those two balanced out.
When we got to the house Mer and Pur had to rush back to the Laundry, to get their clothes, and Cynthia had to do something with her mother.
I saw to the Jeep.
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Chapter 47. A Troublesome Woman
Wednesday Sincan Escort Afternoon
After dropping Cynthia off at the house I parked the jeep in the old barn where I hooked it up to a charger.
Back at the house I found Tango waiting in the study, where our lunch had been set out for us. I had asked for him to talk about his Bride. His marriage was coming and I needed to deal with Bente’s request that I bed her on her wedding night, instead of Tango. It was not like she expected me to teach her anything, she just wanted another prize.
The “White Scarf” was intended to honor virgins (who had stayed virgin) until their wedding when the Patron would instruct them about sex on their wedding night. The instruction assumed that they needed it, were willing, and the the Patron or his designee was available. The present Patron had given up the task, due to his age, some time ago.
For the first 10 brides of the Colony, the instruction was needed, as the maidens spent puberty isolated in a female-only camp with no knowledge of sexual matters. Also, they expected to be “pierced” the day when they chose to enter adulthood. They were told that involved a fishbone through the ear, so they were in for a surprise after they got a new name and were given adult garments to wear. That was when their “piercer” introduced them to an adult male body.
When the second and third wave of colonists arrived, the white scarf reflected what was then the custom in Europe of having the family, clergy and authorities observe consummation, where the Patron or his designee stood in for all the above. It also replace the earlier custom of Droit de Seigneur or lus primae noctis, the feudal lord’s or warlord’s right to a bride. Before 1600 – when they all came from Europe – many in the Colony considered this normal and natural, it was all they had ever known. For over 200 years there was nobody to give then new ideas. Finally, after 1800, the Patron sent men out to become soldiers in the armies of South America, and then return with news of society.
In Spain, Bishop Foxe thought long term. He considered that the isolated small population in the tropics, wearing minimal clothing, would either go puritanical or promiscuous. He opted to load the dice against what he called “French Vices of Disease.” Well for a Bishop in the 1500’s, the science of venereal disease was not a strong point. He intended that the public honor would encourage young women, raised in a tropical climate, to remain virgins until marriage instead of “experimenting like savages.” (The Incas of the time encouraged sexual experimentation for young teenagers.) The white scarf replaced the traditional white dress.
Admittedly, in the West today the white dress is more a style tradition/mandate rather than a sign of virginity, even divorced brides wear white the second, or fifth times around. But not in the colony. Even after WW2, when the German brought so much information about the world, the Colonial tradition of a virgin bride, and the perceived honor of being bedded by the Patron, retained its place as a tradition. For example, the White Scarf was not considered for divorced or widowed women, who were honorable but not virgins.
Bente was not a virgin. She had been in a temporary marriage with a man who went into military service. But she did consider herself very special, a pioneer of special merit who therefore deserved the honor and pleasure of my company on her wedding night.
Part of her justification was that she was the first of the German descendants to be admitted into marriage and the general society of the Colony. In her home she was taught to strive, succeed, and be rewarded. She therefore considered the white scarf a reward she had earned as “the first.”
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Cousins And Germans
You might wonder about these Germans I mention.
Even before D-day there were those in the German military who knew what was going to happen to the homeland. People in the scientific communities reached the same conclusion, with the additional expectations that they would be pursued by both the East and the West. When captured they would be given a choice between an unfair trial as a war criminal or a life of forced service to a government that would never allow them the freedom promised to citizens. Neither choice appealed. But one of our “Cousins” had a different idea.
In the 1500’s Bishop Foxe had set up boarding schools for orphans in Europe. Jesuit methods were employed to build values, including loyalty. Ostensibly to fund this work he created a small company of cargo ships. These ships were run by “Cousins,” graduates of the orphanages and their first priority was to support the Colony. Today the Cousins continue, doing both legitimate business and the Patron’s shady business. Some captains of the cargo ships are promoted as “Travelers” serving the Patron as agents, sort of knights errant like Don Quixote or James Bond or the Knights Templar. All are accorded the title and papers of “Monsignor” (it made travel easier, even if the Church did not know) and they usually work alone.
In Europe some Travelers took undercover jobs as officers employed in military service in the World Wars, including the Spanish Civil War. Many of these officers served Spain, Italy, Germany and England.
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