Chapter Thirteen High on our list were Jim Wells and Kathy Steward, the former television news stars. I say former because The Mole had exposed not only their love affair but also their three-way with me. His magazine had paid our detective for a copy of the tape of the three of us in Kathy's hotel room. They became immediate stars in adult videos when the scandal destroyed their careers and their marriages. They were good to watch together. Our business always got a big boost. Oh, yes, our business. We had to give up the ministry, of course. The National Personality articles pulled no punches. Our names and faces were better known than the President's. We capitalized on it. We entered a new business which was not only more profitable than our ministry had been for us, but also more honest -- for us, I mean. Trinity Productions. Videos, books, magazines, and the most exciting adult entertainment house in the world. We were headquartered in Storey county only an hour's drive from Reno. Prostitution is legal there, and we developed the most creative menu ever. Daddy was CEO since he really was a master manager of a big business. Mom ran our whorehouse, Sisters of Sierra, a name we borrowed from Kennedy's article on Christina and me. The most exciting thing for me was getting to know so many stars in our business. It was a cunt-gladdening experience to learn that most of them were even sexier and more uninhibited than they were in the videos. You'll understand if I do not identify them too clearly. There was one porn star named Barbara I had long admired. That's putting it mildly. I had a collection of every tape she was ever in. I was in her fan club and used to write letters to her all the time through a magazine and tell her I was in love with her. Her return letters were a love-struck young girl's treasure. The only time I ever got mad enough to hit Daddy was when he tried to tell me her letters were probably written by some male writer on the magazine and that I just had a school-girl crush. I was already famous and well beyond crushes when I finally got to meet her. Daddy had made a deal to let my favorite producer use our facilities to make a movie. "I have a special birthday present for you, Sweetheart," Daddy teased. "I think you'll like it." "A new car!" "You already have three new cars. This is something you don't have, something I happen to know you want." "Give it to me, give it to me!" I said excitedly. "You have to join Paul and me for a late dinner at Cheryl's Tahoe." "Oh, Daddy! Paul's a great producer and director, and I love him in bed, but business talk is boring, boring, boring." I bored my finger into his navel. "I pass." "No present." I went, of course. Paul was waiting at our reserved set of semi-circular booths in a special section. So were about twenty other people, including my family and some friends and some folks I only knew from videos. Everybody started singing Happy Birthday. Then I saw Barbara was sitting beside Paul. She wasn't singing. She was just looking at me with that incomparably beautiful face, smiling at me. She knew! They had told her about my infatuation with her, and she knew she was my special present. When she smiled that Barbara smile, her entire face smiled. Her eyes smiled, just like they do in the movies. A calm, beautiful, California-healthy smile that made you feel good. You felt like you were in the presence of a gracious princess. I felt like inferior people in high school must have felt when they were near me and I smiled at them and accepted them into my presence. I scooted around the booth to her. We looked at each for an electrifying moment, her most excellent radiance outside the range of belief. In person and up close. That face, those twinkling eyes. Her delicate sweet breath, the light scent of honeysuckle emanating from her. I was mesmerized. "I love you," I said numbly. My IQ had dropped about fifty points. Barbara leaned to me and kissed me right on the lips! I felt myself going limp. Her mouth followed mine as I sank bank against the booth. I barely heard the others applauding and hooting. She touched my face and chewed slowly on my mouth. All my soft reflexes, uh, reflexed. I chewed back. Her tongue entered my mouth deliciously. I reciprocated with my own, and we lollygagged in each other's mouths, sucking tongues, wallowing, deliberately swapping saliva. My free hand found her bare thigh under her short flowing skirt, and I jumped when I touched it, realizing whose it was. My God, I was touching a leg I had yearned to feel. Barbara's legs were the most beautiful in the business, and I had seen them only on television screens. Smooth and full, proportioned and shaped to compel desire. I pictured them as I moved my hand up her leg and stroked its fullness and smoothness and squeezed the pliable, womanly flesh. The front of Barbara's leg, the side of her leg, the back of her leg. I pictured a scene I saw her do where she had laid that very part of the back of her leg on a woman's face. And now I was actually feeling it. She drew back slightly and let me look at her. She inserted two fingers into my mouth. I gazed into those eyes and looked all over her face still in a dream that it was really Barbara. She held me by the back of my neck and sensually finger-fucked my mouth. She shared her fingers with me, first in my mouth, then in hers, then mine. Face, leg, mouth, Barbara, all of heaven in one woman. One by one, she inserted all her fingers into my mouth. Her perfect face, never distorted as some actresses do, her fingers, the hold she had on me, her breath on my face, her smell, her softness, her Barbarousness. "Get down under the table and suck me off," she breathed. Just like her movie scenes. She always controlled the action, and whoever was with her of either sex was always glad to follow her lead. I had read an interview of another famous actress who said she had sex with Barbara on screen and then showed up at her home for more. She said she almost gave up men altogether after sex with Barbara. I wasn't about to give up men by any stretch of the imagination, but for that moment no one existed in my world but Barbara. I would have done absolutely anything she wanted right then. She urged me down and I slithered off the seat like a melting snake until I was on the floor with my face between her legs. I rested my chin on the seat and peered into womanhood of the first order as she pulled her skirt slowly up and clear over her soft, luscious stomach. There was Barbara's pussy, not the grotesque unshaved pussy of porn video but the blond, well-groomed, soft, warm fuzzy of a real pussy. There was her famous tatoo inviting me to kiss it, but I stayed where I was letting indelible memory images burn themselves into my brain. I whispered her name over and over to be sure those images were always associated with Barbara. She understood completely and sat above me permitting me my visual brain feast. I felt her calf muscles and memorized her legs, every movement creating a new memory to blend with every other of muscle and tissue interplay. The fine girl-down of blond hairs on her belly and stomach, the alluring, trance-inducing up-and-down movement of her stomach when she breathed. Her rounded succulent breasts now exposed to my lusting eye when she opened her blouse. I was grateful there was no director moving us around or switching my view before I was ready. Barbara would determine all that for me with her innate sense of timing. The calf muscle in my left hand flexed, and I felt from calf to foot as she raised one leg. I slipped her shoe off as it passed the screening station of my hand. When she put her bare foot in my face, I grabbed myself between my legs and squeezed. I manipulated myself in time with Barbara as she pushed her foot against my face. God, what a woman it takes to understand so much. Only a woman like Barbara knows that everything is sensual, every place on her a source of erotic pleasure both for her and for her consort, everything from the pretty bow in her pretty hair to the bottom of her foot. I licked the bottom of Barbara's foot! I couldn't believe I was getting to do that. I understood why women must have fallen in love with her as easily as men. She knew. This woman knew, and she was bold enough to do what she wanted to do without concern for whether it was acceptable or embarrassing. She knew to act on what pleased her and not to worry about whether it might also please her partner. Her sex partners had the same freedom; it was up to them to use it, not up to her to wonder what they wanted. She did whatever turned her on. If her partner was passive, she used them. If her partner was active and creative, she cooperated equally with them. My tongue committed the lines on the bottom of Barbara's foot to memory. I traced them with the end of my tongue, I licked with the flat of my tongue, I kissed and drooled on the bottom of her foot like a food fiend with a chocolate eclair. The pace of my masturbating hand measured my increasing excitement. When Barbara moved her foot down my face and pushed all five toes into my mouth, I was so glad and thankful I wanted to cry from a sense of overwhelming gratitude for what she was willing to do. She was rubbing her pussy as I sucked her toes and felt her legs. The moment was nearing now, and I would be tasting her and having her in my face. I knew from having watched her so many times that it wouldn't be a simple she-sits-there-while-I-suck fuck. Barbara was known for uninhibited positions you'd think you'd see more of but seldom do in porn flicks. I loved it when Paul was the director because he backed the camera off so you could see. Paul! My God, I had forgotten he was sitting beside her. I had forgotten where I was and that there were a good twenty people in our party. When Barbara slipped her foot out of my mouth, I looked around as best I could from under the table. Most of them had forgotten me, too. Paul had his pants clear off and was masturbating slowly, watching Barbara and me. I recognized Daddy's beautiful erection in the mouth of an actress named Robin who could ejaculate like a man when she cum. That was, if I was not mistaken, Christina's foot probing up into Robin's twat. Yonder was my mother with Peter's dick in her mouth; Darlene was probably the only one there who could take Peter's pressure- boiler of copious white cum and not get any on the seat. Or the ceiling, in Peter's case. I made a mental note to arrange a three-way with Peter and Robin, the geyser and the gusher. I would swim and bathe in their cum, wash my hair in it, gargle it. Say, I wonder if you could bottle that stuff and sell it as mouthwash or shampoo to an informed citizenry. It would be the only alcohol-free mouthwash on the market. Safe to swallow and inherently fortified with protein. Can you see the ads? For people who want their breath to smell like the stars'. You've heard of summa cum laude, the highest grade average; now there's Trinity Cum Swallowit for your sexiest breath. As long as we didn't let Christina name the products, we'd be ok. WomanFuck Breath. Use CuntSlime Deluxe for those close moments. Enriched with Bartholin to keep that sheen in your hair. Oil of Twat, a natural lubricant. Wonderful if swallowed. We could manufacture our own chewing gum. Barrett's Bubble Cum, all you do is stick your tongue in it and blow. Barbara had turned us both around while I was exploring merchandising possibilities. Sorry you missed that. My head and upper back lay on the seat, and Barbara was giving me sex in the mouth. A forward face fucking as only Barbara can administer it. No one who has sex with Barbara ever feels like they're sucking or fucking a disembodied body part. She looks at you, touches you, crinkles her eyes, shows her dimples when she smiles at you. You know you are with someone, a person with a personality who knows you're there with her. And, oh my God, can she fuck a mouth! I looked up the length of her sexy body and into her eyes and back down as she fucked and I sucked. Even when my vertical panorama was narrowed to eye-to-cunt contact in her crotch, I still felt like I was with a real human being who could say my name if she chose and look me in the eye when we were done. I also knew there was a moment during a Barbara orgasm when only her pussy and private thoughts and secret language were known to her and that I would be a thing for that moment. She began to tug at my head and face and I felt hands on my breasts which groped their way down and under my buttocks. It took a little study midst my sucking off Barbara to realize she and Paul were moving me around to get me up on the seat so Paul could fuck me. "Fuck her face," Paul said. Forever the director, I guess, but watching Barbara use my mouth had to be a turn-on for this horny cockster. She was his favorite star. No doubt a turn-on. He had been masturbating and watching, and now he entered me and was fucking me. He didn't last long, but it felt good while it did. Barbara decided to stand over me awhile. Unless you've been there -- and many have -- you cannot imagine the sights and sensations you experience when Barbara rises to her feet over your face. Unlike what they show you in porn flicks, Barbara gives you plenty of time to enjoy gazing at her. She'll be looking down at you much of the time, so you continue to know you're a real person interacting with a real person. When you're with Barbara in reality, there is no thought of using a fast-forward button. Beside your face are her ankles. Don't leave them out: they're part of Barbara. The ankles are connected to the: shins of her. The calves of her legs are: glor-ious. Right above them are her: knee caps. Around on the back are the: knee backs. The knees are connected to the: thighs of her. Pause wherever you will, it is Barbara Herself who is standing above you with all the confidence that comes with being who she is. Look at that stomach and think how much you want to bury your face in it. Those tits of perfect size for her. And there is that wonderful face. She may be smiling, or she may be simply looking at you without expression. It depends on the mood she prefers at the moment. She may even be looking off, and you can work that into your preferred fantasy easily enough. Unlike some actresses, though, she will not be gawking up at the ceiling because there is nothing up there that's relevant and because it doesn't fit any fantasy. Ah, fantasy! Without it, we are animals and sex is mechanics. Nothing is more real than Barbara, but she understands fantasies and gives you plenty of opportunity to construct them. Did I not mention her crotch and pussy in the inventory just now? That's because they are on their way down to your eyes. You are possessed by the ripples and indentations created in her legs as she lowers herself slowly down on you. If you have your hands on her calves, you feel the soft ridge and valley formed by the flexing muscles there. Look up at her inner thighs, though, for there you will behold a lustworthy sight found nowhere else in the universe but on a woman. Close your eyes a moment and picture that. Now remember that I was looking at it in real life. Understand what I was going through? The thrill is almost unbearable. "Barbara," I prayed weakly. "Barbara." No expression on her lovely face. No answer. God, what a perfect woman with perfect wisdom and understanding of the importance of mood. I became aware that one of the actors had jacked off on me and had shot his load on my tits and stomach. I rubbed it all over my tits and licked my fingers. "God damn, this young stuff is a turn-on! I'm coming back for seconds. I got to get inside her." It was Jerry. A good actor, one helluva lay, and a clown. "Somebody fuck me, for God's sake," I pleaded with the little breath I could spare. Barbara was poised not more than a cock-length above my face, and I needed to go off. She decided to reverse herself and sit facing the other direction. She stood up and turned around and started back down. As her magnificent ample buttocks descended, I glanced down to see that Jim Wells was answering my plea to be fucked and was preparing to mount me. Perfect. Jim, with the beautiful manly smooth body, a big hard cock that always looked pink and new, and of renowned staying power, was my pussy's best friend. I would get fucked long and well now. Barbara's ass covered my face. I held my breath as long as I could to remain enshrined in legs and hips. Jim entered me all the way in one thrust, and I tilted my head back to gasp. Brain cell damage prevented, I adjusted my face in Barbara again so I could breathe and suck without interrupting her movements or my pleasure. Slurp suck slurp suck slurp suck, ahhhhh. Suck suck slurp suck suck suck, ahhhhh. The rhythm method. Barbara fucked. Jim fucked. I fucked and sucked. Jim and Barbara were kissing and he was fondling her titties. Barbara was squeezing my titties and pinching my nipples, and I was feeling her legs and ass and the curvature of her body at her waist. My nose was probing her asshole, and my open mouth was securely covered in juicy Barbara cunt. She tasted delicious, absolutely delicious. She was juicing up good, and I sucked it into my mouth and drank it. With a minor realignment on her part, my nose slid up into her soupy hole, and I attended to her clitoris with all my skills. She fucked my nose and wiped her ass in my eyes. Her weight increased as she sat up on my face and alternated between a grinding fuck and a vibrating fuck. I felt her hands encircling my neck, but I knew she would be careful not to break my neck even if she started cumming. Jim's ramrod filled my cavity. We fit together as though a master designer had matched us. Ideal friction and tolerance, precisely the right amount of lubrication, the fuck action operating according to specification in the Great Book of Sexual Sculpting, machine parts of high quality materials built to endure industrial strength sex for long periods of time. With Barbara sitting high on my face, my arms were free to reach out and touch someone. I ran my hands up her sweating body and grasped her breasts. I held her nipples twixt thumbs and forefingers and rolled them. If her legs had not been clamped against my ears, I'm sure I would have heard her moan. Imagine it! Me, giving pleasure to Barbara! What women like, men like, so I diversified my tit- tweaking. One hand for Barbara and one hand for Jim. Barbara's chest and Jim's chest were chests of treasure for my hands and fingers. I felt manliness in one hemisphere of my brain and womanliness in the other. I switched hands and hemispheres and let myself be aware of the different sensations I received. Try it sometime when you're masturbating. You'll be amazed at the difference in sensations the two hands receive. Tit tweaking was doing something to my partners. So were my pussy and mouth, and so was the sight and feel of me under them. They increased their pace almost simultaneously, and I increased my fuck movements and sucking action to match theirs. We were fucking good, and I had the best of both worlds. Soon, I knew, they would cum in me. Jim would cum in me where I fucked, and Barbara would cum in me where I sucked, and both these beautiful virtuosos of sex would cum in what they were fucking: me. My orgasm caught me off guard. My body had gone ahead while my mind was integrating fantasies and maximizing pleasures. My internal fires ignited. My pussy contractions would have collapsed my walls if Jim's beam had not braced them. His fuck movements in and out of me and my vaginal gripping and grinding around his snug-fitting tool launched us into a warp in the space-time continuum. Barbara went with us. She was all over my face, sliding and hunching and shaking and humping and fucking and grinding and pressing. Then the characteristic Barbara motion when her juice suddenly increases, the fast pressing into my mouth while vibrating. It is only for that moment that she forgets you as a person and uses you as a sex object. I couldn't see her face from her crotch, of course, but I had seen her hundreds of times and I knew what she was doing. Her eyes seem to roll back in her head, her face loses all expression, and she's saying something over and over no one can hear. It looks like she's saying "fuck fuck fuck fuck." Her brightness is transferred from her face and brain to other parts of her body. It is a wonderful moment to be a part of. Barbara cumming in your mouth. She sat on my face long after she was done. Just sat there with her soft stuff in my face. I memorized the sensations to play back later. This was a session I wanted permanently locked in my fantasy vault. No girl has ever had such a twenty-first birthday. Jim was replaced by somebody's mouth. I could tell it was a girl, but I didn't know who. She sucked his cum out of me and cleaned my pussy and crotch, whoever it was. Somebody started licking my legs before she was done, and still another mouth, a man's, was sucking the sweat off my body and tits. I could tell from the shaking he was jacking off at the same time. Barbara finally climbed off my face and helped me sit up. Covered with cum and a face that looked thoroughly fucked, a totally satisfied pussy, and my body and legs licked clean, I felt beautiful. Everybody started clapping, and I took a well-deserved bow. I had been face-fucked, fucked in the pussy, jacked off on, sucked between my legs, and licked all over. Paul said he was stupid not to have captured it all on film. Daddy said, "No problem, Paul. From the satisfied, proud look on her face, my guess is she'd be willing to go through the whole thing again. Right, Trinity?" We all laughed. I was twenty-one years old. In less than three short years since I had started fucking, I had revolutionized many lives and careers. Because of me, many people had found their true and honest niche in life, and others had returned to their faith with a firm dedication they might never have known but for the experience I gave them. But the most spiritually satisfying achievement and the one that means the most to me personally was that I had reunited our family. We were a tribe that had had the good fortune of finding ourselves in this world, an honest life none of us had known before. We would never again be separated, nor would any of us ever have occasion to employ those tricks of mind that enable many to justify living a life devoid of personal integrity. We do not condemn folks trapped in their lifestyles, nor do we cast aspersions on folks who deviate from time to time from their public persona. They have to live in this world, and that often means keeping secret their little wishes and fantasies and obsessions. If you're one of these, don't make it worse by hating yourself. Get fucked! --end chapter 13-- --end of The Book of Trinity-- --"Trinity Barrett" (Wilma)--