Was there something in her kiss — some subtle tang to the juices of her mouth, some coldness to her lips — which would have given away the fact that she was a spirit? Not that he could tell. If anything she was hotter than most women he’d been naked with; almost feverish. And despite the fact that his eyes had for so long failed to see the ghosts in the Canyon, she — and all of those around him — now seemed absolutely solid.
His dick had lost none of its rigidity through this fumbling pursuit; the fact that the air was humid and pungent with the heat given off these spirit-forms only aroused him more. Katya had prepared him well, with her talk of shamelessness. He wanted the girl, and she wanted him: what else mattered?
He put the head of his cock into her. She lifted her legs a little, to help him. There was undoubtedly somebody else beneath her, but he or she didn’t seem to care that he was kneeling on them.
“All the way,” she insisted.
He slid into her, as she instructed, all the way to the root, and began to work his hips against her.
Her cunt was as agile as her throat; he felt a counter-rhythm moving beneath his dick, passing through the lower half of her vulva. The sensation was like nothing he’d ever experienced before; after just a few strokes he was brought to the edge. He slowly pulled out of her, to be sure he didn’t ejaculate too quickly.
“You like that?” she said, putting her hand down between her legs, and guiding him back in.
“Yes. I like it a lot.”
“Good.”
“But go slowly. Please.”
He let her take him inside again and she threw back her head, expelling a sigh of satisfaction.
“Go on.” she said, her eyes fluttering closed. “All the way. Both of you.”
Both? he thought, raising his head from her breast.
And as he formed the question he felt an arm, twice, three times as thick as hers, and deeply muscled, reach over and grab his neck.
He lifted his head as best he could, and saw the face of a man over the girl’s shoulder. She was apparently lying on him, her back against his chest. He was black, and handsome, even in the shadows.
“She’s good,” he said, smiling. “Yeah?”
Tentatively Todd reached down into the moist muddle between their legs. He felt himself, hard as ever; and then, further back, buried in the girl’s ass, the other man’s dick. So that was what he had been feeling as he moved inside her. It wasn’t a muscular contraction; it was the black man sliding in and out of her. In any other situation he would have been repulsed; would have pulled out and retreated. But this was the Canyon; Katya’s Eden without the serpent. The part of him that would have been revolted had been sweated out of him. It only made him harder thinking about the woman being sandwiched between him and the other man; the fine sheath of her muscle dividing the two of them. He brought his hand up from the swamp between their legs and grabbed hold of the black man’s wrist, tightening the three-way knot.
The man laughed.
“You like that?” he said.
“I like that.”
“Good,” he said, licking the girl’s neck, but keeping his eyes fixed hungrily on Todd. “‘Cause we like to get real crazy.”
Todd had found the rhythm of this now; and together they played her until she started to scream with ecstasy.
Somewhere in the midst of this, the girl Katya was pleasuring began to utter gut-wrenching cries. A little time later Katya must have had mercy on her, and allowed her to be carried off, because when Todd was next getting close to coming (for the fifth or sixth time) he looked away from the blissed-out faces beneath him, and saw Katya sitting amongst the jasmine and the honeysuckle, with a young man lying naked at her feet, covering them with reverential kisses.
She was watching Todd, her expression inscrutable. Somebody lit a cigarette for her. Todd smiled at her, and then — before she could choose either to return the smile or ignore it — he fell back into the bliss of his ménage-à-trois, thinking that if this was what sex with the dead was like, then the living had a lot to learn.