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Message-ID: <48855asstr$1092607803@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Jim C" <jimc_author@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Dream State 15 (MF FF Mult fant rom cons mc Mdom oral) by JiMC
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Date: Sun, 15 Aug 2004 18:10:03 -0400
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JiMC is only a pseudonym.  Respect my privacy and I'll respect yours.

_________________________________________________________________
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Copyright

    This work is copyright (c) 2000-2004 with all rights
reserved by its author.  The author specifically states that
this work may be redistributed, without charge, as long as it
is published with the same the story name ("Dream State"),
author ("JimC"), and that the story is distributed in its
entirety, including the disclaimer and all chapters.  You may
also modify this story by partitioning this into multiple
parts, as long as this disclaimer is included on each part.
I specifically do NOT permit this story to be published on
any site that charges any mandatory membership fees.

    The web sites StoriesOnline (http://storiesonline.net)
and ASSTR (http://asstr-mirror.org) have explicit permission to
archive this story.

    The following is a work of fiction (actually, "FANTASY").
Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely
coincidental and rather far fetched, if you ask me.

    This is a story that describes some sexually explicit
situations in a fictional (remember fiction?) setting.  The
target audience is adults (people over the age of eighteen)
with broad minds.  This audience is getting harder and harder
to find each year.

    Final disclaimer--I doubt that any of the people would
act in the way described herein, or even if things described
herein are even possible.  This is just fantasy, and should
be treated as such.  This fantasy takes place in the mid
1970s to late 1980s, without any fear from AIDS or any other
sexually transmitted diseases, so don't try this at home.

[Author's note: The first two parts to this story were
written as a setup for the rest of the story.  As such, they
are trying to convey a rather unique experience and don't
convey much (or even any!) sexual debauchery.  But you really
should read them if you wish to enjoy or understand the rest
of the story.]

Title: Dream State

Author: JiMC

Version: $Revision: 1.12 $ $Date: 2004/07/31 03:06:02 $

Chapter 15--"Life is very short, and there's no time for
fussing and fighting my friends..."

    I admit it.  Sometimes, I'm an asshole.

    Actually, that's really not much of an admission, so let
me try that again.

    I admit it.  On more than one occasion, I have found that
I can become the biggest asshole in existence.

    We had been in the process of deciding what we were going
to do, now that we were all together in Washington, and I was
explaining to Mary that I trusted Aimee's investigator, a Mr.
Voder.  I was quite taken aback when Mary asked me if I only
trusted Mr. Voder because Aimee trusted him.  It wasn't the
fact that she asked me that question, but it was the way she
referred to Aimee using the words "your wife," implying that
she and perhaps Debbie weren't as important to me.  I had
known that Mary sometimes felt a bit unsure of her role in
our relationship, but at the moment, I didn't want to take
the time to deal with this.

    The result was that I ended up doing something extremely
stupid.  My angry and unthinking response was to send a terse
message mentally to Mary: "Have you decided to leave this
relationship?"

    As soon as I did it, I saw Mary's reaction.  She lowered
her eyes.  Immediately, I realized that I had crossed a line
that I had promised myself that I would never cross.  I had
made a bald, out and out threat to a person that I truly
loved!  What had I done?  What kind of asshole was I?

    Aimee said, almost too quietly, "Master?"

    "Yes, Aimee?" I asked, hoping that she hadn't caught my
careless slip.  After all, it had been a mental thought
between Mary and me.

    "May I humbly suggest something?"

    Oh, shit.  Aimee was using her slave persona in front of
my other wives.  Aimee was submissive deep down, but it was a
part of her that she only shared with me.  I knew that the
other girls normally act submissive with me, although they
used to call me "Master." Aimee's doing so now was her
unsubtle way of trying to get my attention.  It also told me
that my thoughtlessness with Mary had not gone unnoticed.

    I held my breath.  "You may," I said carefully, not
wanting to let too much emotion rush out.

    Aimee took a deep breath and said, "Let's take some time
off.  The three of us have been sick with worry about you,
even though I personally knew that you hadn't been in any
danger.  There's still no imminent danger for any of us right
now."

    Slowly, I let my breath out.  Aimee might want to talk
with me alone.  I knew that I needed to talk with Mary alone
as well.

    It was obvious that Aimee hadn't finished, yet.  She had
a look on her face that told me that she just reached a
decision.  I knew something important was about to happen, so
I just listened, waiting for her to speak again.

    "Debbie," Aimee said, turning to my other wife.  "Our
husband needs to spend some time with his first wife." She
pointedly emphasized the word "first." "Let's take a walk."

    I felt a bit of relief.  Aimee was going to give Mary and
I some time alone so I could apologize to her.  Aimee was
always a very smart person--one of the smartest I've met in
this life.

    Debbie nodded slightly in response.  I hadn't seen any
indication from Debbie that she knew what I had "said" to
Mary, but I knew that Debbie almost certainly saw Mary's
reaction.  Mary and Debbie were very close; Mary acted much
like a mother to Debbie.

    Aimee walked toward the door, not bothering to look at
me.  I knew that I would have to spend some time alone with
her.  For a person that has a submissive side, Aimee was
quite capable of giving orders.

    As Aimee went to close the door, she paused.  She turned
around, and for the first time in my life, I saw my Aimee's
face completely free of all emotion.  It was as if I was
looking at one of those porcelain china doll masks (I know I
keep on mixing Asian and Polynesian metaphors when referring
to Aimee, but that was the image I had).  Aimee's face had
absolutely no expression on it at all.

    Again, I held my breath.  Aimee was going to say
something, and it would be important.  Everything went
silent.  If this had been a movie, you might hear crickets
chirping.

    Aimee quietly released her bombshell.  Each word was
enunciated perfectly and free of any emotional
content--almost strained.

    "Debbie and I will meet you for dinner tomorrow.  In the
meantime, you need to apologize to the woman that pulled you
out of your coma, and who is willing to walk nude into the
dungeon of the dragon with no weapons other than her
fingernails.  If I see you tomorrow and I'm not satisfied
that you have done your duty, then it will be the last time
you will ever see me again."

    My jaw dropped, but Aimee wasn't interested in my
reaction.  She simply turned as soon as she said her piece
and closed the door.

    My mind couldn't comprehend what had just happened.

    Aimee had just walked out on me!

    It was a few moments before I remembered to breathe again.

    Mary said, "You know, I didn't think it was possible for
you to anger her.  You may have lost your true love forever."

    Would Aimee really leave me?  Could she?  Was it within
her power?  Somehow, I knew the answer to those three
questions was "yes." Aimee was a very strong-willed
individual.  She could easily walk out of my life and I would
never, ever, hear from her again.

    However, there was something new that was bothering me
now.  Something important.  "Mary," I said.  "You are wrong.
My true love consists of three wonderful wives.  For me, true
love can not exist without all three of you together."

    Mary didn't say anything.  I had withdrawn from all three
of my wives' minds after I made that stupid threat to Mary,
but I didn't need to read Mary's mind in order to know that
she didn't believe my last statement in the least.

    I can't truthfully say that I had been unaware of Mary's
doubts.  I had known about her feelings, especially once
Aimee had became an official part of our relationship.
Nevertheless, Mary had never outwardly seemed to let it
bother her.  She seemed to willingly give Aimee and I our
time alone, just as I gave Debbie and Mary their time alone.
I had apparently interpreted this incorrectly as not being a
real problem and something that I could deal with at a later
time.  It turns out that I had been very wrong.

    I had to admit that I did feel that Aimee was something
special.  Of all the people I knew, she had known and
outwardly sensed my special gift without me somehow
interacting with her first.  This was something that nobody
else had ever done before or since.

    It was now clear that Mary's doubt really ran deep.  It
was obvious that Mary thought that perhaps she--and maybe
even Debbie--might have been mere stepping stones for me to
eventually find Aimee.  If that was the case, then I knew
that I had done both Mary and Debbie a great disservice.

    Did I really act like I loved Aimee more than either of
my other wives?  I thought about my actions and can see where
it could have looked that way.

    I truly loved Aimee, but that was also true for Mary and
Debbie as well.  Aimee and I had a close bond, but I also had
a very close one with Mary as well.

    I had seen Mary in my mind before I had even come out of
my coma.  Aimee also mentioned that Mary had been responsible
for pulling me out of my coma when she left the room just
now.  I had never really discussed my personal relationship
with Mary with any of my other wives, mostly out of respect
for her privacy.  Aimee, however, seemed to know that all
this and had pointed out that Mary was indeed very special.

    While Aimee was catching up on her sleep the previous
day, Mary and Debbie had filled me in with what had gone on
in my "absence." Mary had come up with a pretty good plan to
go after the people looking for us, rather than sit around
and wait to be discovered.  She had shown extreme courage in
coming to Falls Church, which was probably where this Colonel
DiPietro was located.  Aimee's description of Mary's cool
courage in the sight of a faceless and possibly well
organized enemy was correct.

    Once again, I was surprised at how easily Aimee could
look right into the soul of another person.  She sensed
Mary's doubts, as well as the fact that when faced with a
decision, Mary had a very logical and intelligent head on her
shoulders.

    I didn't realize it, but tears were flowing down my face
freely.

    Mary moved close to me and held me close.  "Aimee won't
leave you, Jim.  She loves you."

    I shook my head.  Mary still didn't realize why I was
upset.

    "No, Mary.  You've got it all wrong.  Aimee may be angry
at me, but that's not why I'm upset."

    I felt, rather than saw, Mary simply shake her head.

    "I'm upset at myself, Mary, because I have failed you."

    I held Mary close to me and wondered how I would fix up
this big mess.

* * *

    Aimee had ordered me to "do my duty" to Mary.

    As I said before, despite being a submissive deep down,
Aimee didn't hesitate to give orders herself, especially when
she knew without any doubt that she was correct.

    An important part of my duty to Mary was to make her know
how I felt about her, and for Mary to know it as deeply and
as completely that Aimee did.  I had no idea how to do it, or
if I could even do it.

    How does one prove oneself to another?  If Mary had
doubts about how I felt about her, then those doubts were
probably due to my own behavior toward her.  I was the cause
of those doubts, and I needed to erase them.

    Of course, you might think that being able to root around
in Mary's mind and even change things around, you might think
that this was an easy problem for me to solve.  That is
completely and utterly wrong!

    There is no way that you can force a person to trust you.
People just don't work that way.  Either a person trusts you,
or that person doesn't.  If it's somebody you have a
relationship with, you really need to earn their trust.  If
somebody trusts you and you betray that trust, then that
person will never trust you again.  I have always believed
that forgiving a betrayer is just giving permission for that
person to betray you again.

    If I force Mary to believe that I loved her, then I would
be betraying her trust.  She might believe what I force her
to believe, but in doing so, she will have lost that spark
that made Mary that unique individual that she is and that I
love.  It would destroy her soul, for lack of a better word.

    Don't let anybody ever tell you differently: there is no
fucking way to force anybody to trust you.  Trust must always
be earned, or it is meaningless and, more importantly,
useless.

    My only hope is that I hadn't yet betrayed Mary's trust.
I had threatened her, but I never had any intention to follow
through on it.  If Mary didn't think I betrayed her trust,
then I may still have a way to fix her doubts right now,
especially if her doubts were based simply on insecurity.
Maybe, all I'd need to do is to find out how we can get
beyond that insecurity.

    To do this, there was only one solution.  Mary and I
needed to talk.  This was definitely not a time for those
"Jedi Mind Tricks" from that movie that I had watched back in
Utah with my three wives.  This was serious, and as Aimee
pointed out, it needed to be done now.

    In retrospect, it was interesting how much I was focused
on Mary's trust.  I had been talking about trust right before
I made that stupid mental jab at Mary.

    I took many deep breaths, trying to bring my emotions
under control.  I refused to wipe the tears off my face but I
willed myself to calm down.

    It took time.

    Finally, I managed to get myself under control.

    I pulled away from our embrace, and looked at my first
wife.  Mary, that extraordinary woman that actually managed
to somehow pull me out of a coma, was an emotional wreck.
She looked confused and I could see that she was also trying
to get herself steady.

    I wished that I could enter her mind and tell her that
everything would be all right.  I wanted to wipe those tears
from her face and shower her with kisses all over her body.
I wanted to hug her and tell her the bogey man was all gone
and her life would be lived happily ever after.

    How did I deserve woman as wonderful as Mary, and how
could I carelessly just ignore her feelings and possibly
drive her away?

    The previous day, when I woke up from my exhausted sleep,
I saw an unconscious Aimee in the arms of Mary, who was
holding her like a mother would hold a daughter.  Mary had
her arms around Aimee's head protectively, Aimee's face was
resting against Mary's breast.  I remembered thinking how
mother-like Mary was, protecting her co-wife and good friend.
I had seen Mary do this before with Debbie, and I think Mary
thought of her relationship with my two other wives to be
like she was a mother to them, especially due to the fact
that she was almost ten years older than either of the other
two.

    It was quite obvious that Mary truly loved Aimee, and
Aimee loved her back.

    When Aimee was unconscious in Mary's arms, I felt within
Aimee's mind and found that she was merely asleep, dreaming
of a moonlit sky.

    Both Debbie and Aimee had been worried sick about Aimee.
Apparently, they thought that Aimee might be having the same
"dreamless sleep" that I had undergone for a few days.  I
reassured Mary and Debbie that Aimee was really dreaming, and
Debbie explained to me how Aimee had been without sleep all
the while that I had been unconscious.

    I noticed now that there was something was odd about
Aimee's dreaming.  As I said, she was dreaming of a moonlit
sky.  It was a dream I had constantly... the sky as it
appeared to me the instant before I was hit by a jeep.  There
was no way that Aimee had experienced that image first hand,
and since it was a common dream for me, I initially figured
that it was a dream that she had witnessed when our minds had
merged together.  However, I was now reexamining that dream
that Aimee had.

    Thinking about Aimee dreaming about the sky, I glanced at
Mary.  Aimee's dream was some sort of clue, but I had no idea
what it meant.  What was so special about that dream?  Aside
from the fact that it was a second-hand dream--one that Aimee
had seen in my mind--something was nagging at me that I was
missing something important.  Thinking back to the previous
day, I realized that her dream was almost perfectly identical
to the one that I had.  Was there a subtle difference in the
dream Aimee had from mine?

    After thinking about her dream for a few moments, I
thought that maybe it wasn't the difference in the dreams,
after all.  Maybe I was just groggy from waking up from the
long period of unconsciousness.  Maybe the difference was
just the fact that I misread Aimee's dream.

    Suddenly, I had another thought: What if the clue was
just the fact that Aimee just simply had that particular
dream?

    I still vividly remember that dream.  It seems to last
forever and is very peaceful.  My mind refuses to acknowledge
anything that happened immediately after I had seen the moon
and stars, something the doctors called traumatic amnesia (or
was that post-traumatic?).  The way they described it, my
brain doesn't want to remember certain horrible events, so it
locks the memories away.  Instead, my brain focuses on the
happier memory about the moon and the stars, and it plays it
over and over in a seemingly endless loop, a peaceful dance
in my brain that replays over and over a wonderful moment...

    That's it... it was a wonderful moment!

    I remember Mary being surprised after I woke up from my
coma and told her that I had been looking at the stars before
I had gotten hit by the jeep.  She said she had been doing
the exact same thing.

    At the time, I thought it was because Mary had been
looking at the stars, she didn't see where she was driving
and hit me.  How else was I supposed to take it?

    Could I have been missing the point all along?

    What if, in that moment before that jeep hit my body
causing my head to hit the pavement and the tires to roll
over my ribs (I read the accident report)... what if Mary and
I had connected, just for that brief moment?

    All along, I had thought that my connection with Mary,
Debbie, and even Aimee had been due to the fractured skull
that resulted after the Jeep hit me.  Now, it was obvious
that if that had been so, any connection to Mary should have
occurred AFTER my head hit the ground.  That wasn't the case!
As I mentioned, I have no memory of my head hitting the
ground... instead, my only conscious memory is from the
immediate moment before... the moon and the stars.

    All of a sudden, it became clear to me now.  I had seen
the moon and stars, and so had Mary.  That was the
connection!  The two of us had actually connected immediately
BEFORE the accident!

    "HOLY SHIT!" I shouted.

    My outburst totally terrified Mary, who had been deep in
thought herself.  She looked at me, her entire body going
into a martial arts defensive position automatically.

    My mouth hung open as I stared at Mary.  I had never
given any thought of what Mary's job had been in the
military.  Her rank of lieutenant seemed to be associated
with a paper pusher, and I had imagined her as some sort of
receptionist or records keeper.  Her jobs after leaving the
service--waitress, store manager, some sort of manager at a
bank--none of those really required too much experience, and
had confirmed that her role had been secretarial.  Mary never
mentioned that she had ever taken any kind of martial arts
training, although I had heard her suggesting to Debbie that
a downstairs gym might be a nice addition to the house in
Hawaii.

    "I'm sorry, Mary," I said, hurriedly.  "I just realized
something."

    Mary's stance eased into a less active, but still
defensive position.  She noticed that I was watching her body
movements and forced herself to relax into an even less
active and less threatening position.

    I ignored this interesting little facet of information
for the moment.  It wasn't important now, but I tried to make
a note to remember it.

    Mary still hadn't answered me, but I realized that the
worry and the confusion that I had seen in her had completely
disappeared.  She was breathing heavy, and her limbs had a
slight shake to them, but that was almost certainly due to
the release of adrenaline into her bloodstream after my
outburst.

    I willed myself to calm down, and did so.  Mary watched
me with amazement on her face.

    "I'm really sorry, Mary.  I didn't mean to shout."

    Still no answer.

    "I'm also sorry for threatening you by asking if you
wanted to leave our marriage.  It was utterly stupid and
cruel, and I wouldn't blame you for being upset or even
leaving me, just like Aimee has threatened."

    The shakes left Mary's body, and her own breathing was
returning to a normal level.  She still said nothing.

    "There's something important you need to know, Mary."

    Again, no answer.  Mary's entire body was relaxed, as if
she hadn't been upset or ready to pull my arms out of their
sockets just moments before.  It was amazing.  I knew how to
do this; I just willed it in my brain.  I had been able to do
it since I came out of the coma, and was probably doing it
while I was in the coma, which is why the people monitoring
me hadn't seen all the brain activity going on when I was
"visiting" Mary.

    "I just realized that you are very much like Aimee," I
said.

    Mary seemed confused.  "In what way?"

    "I thought Aimee was unique in that she connected with me
without me reaching out to her," I explained.  "Now, I just
realized that you connected with me the same way that first
time."

    "You mean, right before I ran over you?" Mary asked.

    "Yes.  When I was looking at the sky.  We connected."

    "Of course," Mary said, surprised that I had only just
realized that.

    "You knew?" I asked, feeling very surprised myself now.
"When did you know?  How did you know?"

    "That day we had the picnic after you got out of the
hospital," Mary answered.  "You mentioned about the stars,
and told me yourself... we connected!"

    I thought about that conversation and shook my head.
"No!  I was talking about connecting with you after I got hit
by the jeep.  I had been 'visiting' you."

    "Oh!" said Mary.

    Holy shit!

    At least, Mary and I were talking now.

* * *

    "Why didn't I realize that before?" I asked.

    "Maybe you never looked before," Mary replied, simply.
"You saw it with Aimee, and I guess you thought it was
unique.  Maybe that's why I felt so hurt."

    "I just found out because I was thinking about you." I
said.  "I made the realization that I had made some
assumptions that weren't true."

    Mary nodded.  "I was wondering what you were thinking
about.  You had been quiet for about a half hour."

    "Aimee was dreaming of the moon and the stars yesterday
when I woke up," I explained.  "I just realized that she was
only the second person other than me to have seen that."

    I pulled Mary close to me and we kissed.

    "I'm truly sorry, Mary.  I truly am.  I never meant to
hurt you."

    I instinctively knew that words would never be
sufficient.  "Come into my mind, darling," I whispered.  "Let
me show you how much I love you."

    For the first time in my life, I opened my mind to Mary.
Without any hesitation, Mary entered my mind.

* * *

    Somewhere, I heard a phone ring.

    I was in a bed, and had a nude Mary on my arms.  Her body
was partially covering my right side.

    I waited for the phone to ring again so I could locate
its direction.

    I was lucky in that the phone was to my left, the side
that Mary had left relatively uncovered.  Still, I needed to
move a bit in order to reach the phone.

    "Hello," my voice croaked.

    "It's Aimee."

    Aimee.  My beloved Aimee.  She's still speaking with me.
I had news for her... good news!

    "What time is it?" I asked.

    "Five thirty."

    "AM or PM?"

    There was a pause.  "Late afternoon."

    "Who is it?" whispered a totally exhausted Mary.

    "Aimee," I whispered back.  "It's five thirty in the
afternoon."

    "Thursday or Friday?" Mary asked.

    "Good question," I whispered back.  "Thursday or Friday?"
I repeated into the phone.

    "Friday." I could hear ice dripping from Aimee's words.

    I sighed.  "Did we miss dinner?"

    "No, Jim.  I was calling to ask if the two of you were
going to be joining us." Aimee had emphasized the word "two"
so I knew that I was still in hot water with her.

    "Hungry?" I whispered to Mary.

    "Starving," Mary said.  The truth was, we hadn't eaten
since Aimee left.

    "The two of us will join you, Aimee," I said, emphasizing
the number.

    "I'm glad to hear that," Aimee replied sarcastically.

    I sighed, which Aimee heard.  "Aimee... I'm sorry..."

    "Don't, Jim," Aimee warned.  There was something in her
voice that told me the phone was the wrong medium for
apologies.

    "Please, Aimee," I insisted, speaking quickly to prevent
Aimee from interrupting me.  "I'm sorry that we're out of it.
We've been in bed for a while."

    "Whatever," Aimee said, dismissively.  "Have you heard of
a place called the Watergate?"

    "The Watergate?  The place that got Nixon busted?" I
asked.

    Aimee sighed.  She doesn't do that very often.  I think
that she thought that I was testing her limits.  I wasn't
doing it intentionally.

    "Can you meet us at the Brasserie?  It's at the
Watergate, across from the Kennedy Center at Foggy Bottom.
Any cab will know how to get there."

    "What time?" I asked.

    "Seven thirty."

    "That's two hours?" I asked.

    "One hour, fifty-five minutes."

    "We'll be there," I said, emphasizing the pronoun.

    The phone disconnected.

    I shook my head.  Aimee was obviously angry at me.  I
have never known her to hold her anger overnight.  I knew my
behavior toward Mary yesterday was inexcusable, but she
sounded like I had done something wrong to her.  I had no
idea what it was.

    Mary sat up in bed.  "We have two hours?"

    "Less, actually.  I have a feeling Aimee is still pissed
off at me about yesterday."

    Mary shook her head.  "No, she's not.  She might not
condone what you did.  She's very perceptive, you know.
She's not angry about that, though.  If she's angry right
now, it's probably the same reason I'd be angry if I had been
on the other end of that conversation."

    "What did I do?"

    Mary shook her head.  "It's not what you did.  It's what
you didn't do.  Did you tell her that you love her?  She is
still your wife, Jim."

    Oh, fuck!  I had no idea where Aimee was right now.
There was no way to call her back.

    I had an idea, though.  "Do you think we can find a
florist on the way to Foggy Bottom?"

    Mary nodded and smiled.  "We'll need about thirty minutes
for a good two-person shower, and fifteen minutes to get
dressed.  Did Aimee pack you a suit?  You mentioned the
Watergate.  That's high class.  I wonder how she got a
reservation so soon."

    I had no idea where any of my clothes were.  Mary jumped
out of bed and went to look.  "Jim!  Aimee packed the Armani.
There's an iron in the closet here, I'll get it ready for
you!"

    "No, dearest," I said to Mary, pulling her away from the
closet and into the bathroom.  "It's time to shower.  I love
the smell of Mary and Jim, but I don't think the Watergate
staff will enjoy it.  I know how to iron my own suits.  I did
it way before we met under the stars!"

    Mary smiled at me and we snuggled into the shower
together.  We got the water warm enough and we each got a
little bar of soap and started lathering the other.  Of
course, I was focused on Mary's lovely breasts and pubic
hair, while Mary's attention seemed to be mainly at an organ
that was getting more and more erect.

    After about twenty minutes, the tiny bar of soap had
disappeared, so I started rubbing the cleansing water into
the same general area on Mary's body.  I was getting
distracted because Mary's attentions on my cock were getting
it very close to the point of eruption.  I felt my muscles
jerk as my orgasm washed over me.

    Mary seemed a little disappointed in the tiny amount of
fluid that she generated.

    I saw her expression and shrugged, "What do you expect?
You think a guy in his thirties can make it with a hot chick
a half dozen times in twenty-four hours?"

    "Was it only six times?" Mary asked, mischievously.

    "Maybe more," I said.  "Come on, hand me the shampoo."

    Mary did and I squeezed a large amount on my hands and
started to massage it into her wavy brown hair.  I remembered
watching Debbie and Mary play in the tub, and I tried to do
Mary's hair the same way that Debbie did, working up a great
lather and massaging my fingers into her scalp.  Mary
actually purred like a kitten in response.

    Without warning, I dunked Mary's head under the shower
head to rinse off the first shampoo.  Having mostly completed
the job, I started a second cleaning run, not using as much
shampoo nor massaging as much... just enough to get the hair
full of lather.  Once again I dunked Mary's head for her
final rinse.

    "Thanks, Jim!" Mary said, and she hopped out of the
shower and started drying.  I could barely see her body
through the misty panels, so I reached out with my mind and
quietly entered Mary's mind, opening her eyes and looking in
the mirror.  The mirror wasn't too fogged over, and I got a
nicer view of Mary's large breasts.

    "You rascal!" Mary squealed as she realized that I was
"peeping" on her.  Despite her protest, Mary pointed the hair
dryer at the mirror and cleared the steam from it as if by
magic, giving me a much better view of her lovely body.

    I giggled in response, and pulled mostly out of Mary's
mind, leaving her to her privacy.

    I rinsed the shampoo out of my own hair, and then shut
off the water.  I could still hear the whine of the hair
dryer, and I felt around for a towel.  I couldn't find one,
so I reached over to where Mary was and grabbed the towel
from her shoulders.

    "Hey!" Mary said, barely audible over the hum of the
dryer.

    "You're done with it," I pointed out.

    Her towel was wet, but in the army, I had learned to make
do with smaller and sometimes wetter towels.  It wasn't a big
deal.  Just move the water down your body, letting gravity do
most of the work.

    I dried myself, and moved out to the closet.  Inside the
closet was a ironing board and iron, and I quickly removed
the creases from the black Armani suit that Debbie had
insisted on purchasing for me.  It really didn't need too
much work on it, but I kept the ironing board out in case
Mary needed it.  (One quickly learns what women need when you
are married to three of them at the same time!)

    Mary already had a dress on the bed, and it was in pretty
good condition.  I decided to help her out and gave it a once
over with the iron on its gentlest setting.

    I found the rest of my clothes and started to get dressed.

    Mary exited nude from the bathroom, her hair almost
looking completely normal already.  She smiled at me when she
saw I left the iron out, and when she picked up her dress,
she noticed that it was still warm.  "Jim!  That was so sweet
of you!"

    "Just thought I'd help you move your lazy ass!" I
laughed, which earned me a playful swat on the ass as I was
pulling on my boxers.

    "How much time do you have?" Mary asked.

    I looked at the clock.  "We're running slightly late.
Sixty-five minutes before Aimee hits the roof."

    "Let's not give her another reason to be angry," Mary
suggested.

    I pulled on my pants, and was about to grab my shirt when
I noticed that Mary was just about completely dressed.  When
she wants, Mary can dress faster than a salesman who just
found out the mafioso husband of the woman he's in bed with
just got home.

    I hurriedly finished dressing, and Mary helped adjust my
tie.  "Looks fine.  I'll fix it when we get to the Watergate."

    Mary found Aimee's stash of cash and took it, and the two
of us went downstairs.

    Luckily, we had no trouble getting a cab.  Mary explained
that we needed to get to a florist and then to the Watergate
before 7:15.  "You'll get a ten dollar tip for every minute
you can get us there early."

    "No problem, Miss!" the cabbie said, and we were off,
propelled through the roads of the District of Columbia.

    The florist we went to was near the Kennedy Center, and I
had no problem getting two rose corsages that were already
made.  However, I needed a special one, and I was willing to
pay just about any price to get it made pronto.

    The old lady looked at me, the stack of bills in my hand,
and asked, "What color?"

    "Light purple, please."

    She nodded.  She found a few of the blooms, and had a
custom-made corsage made in record time.  I left a hefty tip
and Mary and I hurried back to the waiting cab.

    "You'll be five minutes early, Ma'am," the cabbie said.

    "Fine," Mary said.  "Keep it under the limit and you'll
still have fifty over the meter."

    "Your wish is my command," the cabbie smiled.

    We got to the Watergate at 7:14, and I paid the cabbie a
hundred dollars, not wanting to wait to make change.  He was
surprised, but seeing the location, he simply shrugged and
smiled as he went on his way.

* * *

    It didn't take me long to find Aimee and Debbie.  I
simply had to find a large group of men, and I knew that my
two co-wives would be in the middle somewhere.

    I was correct.

    I escorted Mary, deftly holding my packages behind my
back.  The crowd parted as they saw Mary, and Debbie's eyes
lit up she they saw us.

    Aimee was wearing a sheer light purple evening gown
trimmed in a darker purple that I had never seen before this
night.  She also had on white high heels that must have been
extremely high, since she looked to be almost as tall as
Debbie.

    Debbie, on the other hand, was wearing a similar gown,
but in pink trimmed with red.  She had on red flat shoes,
which explained how their heights matched so nicely.

    "Debbie," I said, looking at my second wife.  "Patricia,"
using Aimee's code name, since I figured that would be how
she made the reservation.  "Mary," I said, looking at Mary.
I held out the bag containing the packages.  "These are for
you."

    I opened the bag and pulled out the first rose corsage
and handed it to Mary.  Next, I pulled out a second identical
one for Debbie.

    Aimee looked at me, and there was a look in her eyes that
said that she was still hurt.  I looked at her as if to say,
"I love you, my beloved," and reached in and pulled out the
last corsage.

    Aimee actually gasped when she saw the corsage that was
made from delicate, light orchids that almost perfectly
matched the dress that she was wearing.

    Ignoring all the people that were surrounding us, Aimee
reached up and threw her arms around me.  I heard her whisper
in my ear, "Thank you, Master.  I love you."

    "I love you, my beloved Aimee," I said in a voice that
only she could hear.  "I'm sorry for not telling you that
when you called.  My only defense was that I had been roused
from a deep sleep."

    "I'm sorry for getting angry at you, Master," Aimee
whispered back.

    I kissed Aimee on the cheek and asked, softly, "Do we
have reservations?"

    Aimee nodded and then led the way.  I followed her,
taking Debbie and Mary on each arm, and the crowd parted as
Aimee approached the maitre d'hotel.

    "Reservations for James," Aimee said.  "Ms. Patricia
James, and her three guests."

    "Of course, Ms. James," the host said, expertly palming a
fifty dollar bill that Aimee must have produced from thin
air.  "This way."

    The maitre d' led us past a long line of people waiting
to get in, and we were led to our table.  It was beautiful,
with exquisite linen and crystal.  Four waiters appeared to
pull our chairs out for us.

    I was starting to like living the way Debbie likes to
live.

    The beautiful women that I had found in the midst of a
crowd of men in the foyer of one of the most prestigious
places in Washington, DC had been replaced by two even more
ravishing and wonderful women, who had found their wayward
husband returned from the Island of the Assholes.

* * *

    Back at the Sheraton, the four of us retired to the king
sized bed in the main bedroom.  Instead of physical love, we
shared emotional love by opening our minds to one another.  I
had done this first with Aimee, and earlier that day with
Mary, and now I was doing it with all three of my wives at
the same time.

    It was amazing the amount of love we shared for one
another.  Each woman loved me in her own special way, and I
loved each one specially as well.  In addition, each wife
shared a special love with each of co-wife.

    I felt warm lips engulf my cock, and I didn't need to
open my eyes to know whose lips were on it.  They belonged to
Debbie, of course.  Of the three of us, she was the one that
preferred to express her love in a physical way, needing to
feel the physical connection to others.  Even so, she was
still sharing the emotional connection with me and her two
co-wives.  In response, Aimee started suckling on Debbie's
breasts, and Mary started licking between Debbie's legs.

    Through our connection, I could feel Mary's lips licking
up and down Debbie's slit.  The fact that all four of us were
sharing our minds together, we were able to focus Debbie's
pleasure receptors to the point where she was even more
sensitive than usual.  I could feel Debbie's soft cry of
orgasm vibrate around my penis.

    With hardly any effort, Mary lifted Debbie's body
physically and deposited Debbie's slick love nest firmly on
my shaft.  Keeping her hands on Debbie's body, Mary assisted
Debbie's legs in moving her body up and down my shaft.

    Aimee had repositioned her own body such that she was
lying with her own honey pot on my face.  I couldn't see, but
I rather felt her lips were still on Debbie's breasts,
licking and sucking.

    We had really gotten Debbie to the point where she was
hypersensitive.  Mary was now kissing Debbie, Aimee was
sucking her breasts, and Debbie was still riding me.

    I had expected that my lovemaking earlier with Mary would
have left me without much to pump into Debbie when my orgasm
approached, and I felt a slight twinge of regret.  However, I
felt a soothing feeling wash over me as Aimee's and Mary's
presence stimulated something within me.

    My cock started to spurt and I pumped a couple of jets of
semen into Debbie's sopping quim.  At the same time, Debbie's
nerve endings, which had been set on overload, kicked in
furiously and her cries were only slightly muffled by Mary's
mouth, since she was now kissing Debbie.

    The resulting wave of pleasure within Debbie was shared
by each of her spouses.  The moment seemed to last forever as
our minds tried to comprehend the amount of pure joy that we
were sharing.

    Debbie's body started to slump as if every muscle in her
body had simultaneously relaxed.  This changed the
configuration of our bodies, and Aimee rolled to my side as
Debbie collapsed on top of me.  Despite the fact that my dick
was only slightly erect, I was still inside Debbie.

    We continued to love one another, occasionally caressing
each other to add a bit of tactile sensation to the mix, as
we lay in bed at the positions we ended up in, until one by
one, all my wives fell asleep.

* * *

    I laid in bed, surrounded by my three wives.  I thought
about recent events.

    I knew that this particular evening will stand out
forever in my memory.  For the first time since Aimee's
"wedding," there were no undercurrents happening.  We were
now four people simply in love with one another.  I can see
where we had once been acting as two couples, and I can see
now how wrong that had been.

    I had always known intellectually that none of my wives
were more important than the other, but I had been remiss in
making it clear to Mary and Debbie.  Only Aimee had known it,
but that was only because she was smart at that sort of
thing, but even Aimee needed to hear me tell her that I love
her, as Mary pointed out to me.

    When I had seen Aimee's ability and its similarity to
mine, it had been a tremendous release for me.  I had
originally thought that my capability made me a freak, but
Aimee had it too, even if she didn't have it to the extent
that I had it.  There was no way that I could ever consider
Aimee a freak.

    At first, I was concerned that bringing Aimee into our
relationship might change her in some subtle way.  I was now
grateful that it hadn't been the case.  After our "marriage,"
I focused a lot on Aimee in order to keep confirming to
myself that she did have the ability and I therefore wasn't
such an oddity.  The problem that I hadn't seen was that I
had focused on her too much and that was felt as a subtle
rejection to my two other wives.

    Even though I can read their minds at will, I don't do so
unless the girls know that I'm doing it.  Despite the fact
that I can see their thoughts, I was still a neophyte at
reading their minds.  Unless you look deeply under the
surface and know exactly what you are looking for, it's easy
to miss the minor resentments, and if they aren't found and
dealt with soon, they can grow to full bitterness and, even
worse, maybe even hate.

    I am quite lucky to have Aimee as a pressure valve.
Before the situation between Mary and me became insufferable,
she forced me to deal with the problem.  In doing so, I
discovered something fundamental that we probably might have
taken me much longer to discover.

    All of my wives were important to me, and each of them
had a special place in my heart.

    I loved Mary, pure and simple.  If I had to choose a
single person to live with forever, forsaking my other two
wives, it would be a difficult decision, but the one I would
choose would have to be Mary.  I had thought long and hard
about this during the twenty-four hours or so that I spent
alone with Mary.

    Why Mary?  First, we had a lot in common but what we had
in common were things we actually liked about ourselves.
I've seen spouses that shared a particular trait, and most of
the time, it was that very trait that each one hated about
the other.  That wasn't the case with Mary and me.

    I can spend twenty-four hours simply loving Mary, and
know that it would be the most comforting day of my life--I
had already just done so.  Mary filled the warm center of my
being, and I cannot imagine how I ever lived my life without
her.  I know for a fact that this particular feeling is
mutual: she gave up her career in the military and visited me
just about every day for twelve years while I appeared to be
dead to the world.  We were both committed totally to one
another.  Aimee's reminding me of Mary being willing to walk
into the dragon's den for me was quite accurate.

    That didn't mean that I loved either Debbie or Aimee any
less than Mary.

    My second wife, Debbie, had a love of life and a sense of
adventure that I truly treasured.  She was very enthusiastic
in bed, and loved to experiment.  I know that her sexual
relationship with Mary would never have happened if Debbie
hadn't initiated it.  Thinking about it, I realized that
Debbie was enthusiastic in just about anything that I had
seen her do.  Her vivacity was infectious and her fieriness
was usually enough to pull me out of any bad mood.  Just
knowing that Debbie was around was enough to bring a very
satisfied smile on my face.

    That is not to say that Debbie doesn't know sadness.  You
can see it in her eyes and even actually feel it when she is
reminded of her father.  I don't know if I could ever occupy
that spot in her heart, but I knew that I would spend a
lifetime trying to make the rest of her life happy.

    I also saw sadness in Debbie's eyes when she left the
room the previous day at Aimee's orders.  Whether Aimee's
threat to leave me forever was was empty or not, it had
definitely affected Debbie, and I know for a fact that Aimee
knew it as well.  I can only imagine that Aimee tried her
level best to try to make Debbie as happy as she could be
during the time that they had left Mary and me alone.
Despite whatever Aimee had done, I still noticed a dullness
in Debbie's eyes when I first saw her at the Watergate,
before she noticed Mary and me.  Her expression did turn to
one of joy when she saw how happy the two of us were.  It was
as if her happiness depended on all of our happiness.

    What, then, can I say about Aimee?  She's easily one of
the smartest people I've ever met, especially when dealing
with people.  Deep down, she's a submissive inside, and that
appeals to some dark part of me in a very naughty way, but
that submissiveness didn't define her personality.  She
didn't live to serve any person as a Master, despite her
continuously calling me that.  Instead, I could see now that
her loyalties were to our family, which seems to be the main
focus of her life now.  If our relationship starts heading
off-track, it's Aimee that spots it and takes the initiative
to correct it.  Her methods aren't conventional, but her
actions achieve results.  I realize now that my relationship
with Mary and Debbie could not have succeeded without Aimee
being a part of it as well.

    It was quite true that I was the luckiest man in the
world.  When I came out of my coma, I initially felt
resentful that I had lost twelve years of my life that I
would never be able to regain.  I'm not one to cry over
spilled milk, though, and having three wonderful wives that I
had no hesitation in devoting the rest of my life has easily
compensated for that loss.  It was as if I was living each
new day at least three times more than any other person in
the world.

    The only thing that remained was that we were still being
pursued.  Mary's suggestion to turn the tables on the people
tracking us was a very courageous one, and I hoped we would
be able to succeed.  Aimee's investigator, this Mr. Voder,
might be the factor that might tilt the balance in our favor.

    Utilizing Mr. Voder, though, came at a risk.  Such people
like him will only support you if they truly think your cause
is just.  We would need to convince him, and to do so, we may
have to intentionally expose ourselves to somebody outside
our family for the first time.  It was not a comforting
thought, especially when every ounce of your being screams at
you to keep our abilities secret.

    I knew that I would need to have a family conference the
next day.  I had to share with Aimee and Debbie the discovery
that Mary and I had made, and we needed to have a workable
plan to start living our own lives without fear of harassment
from anything or anybody.

    Having made that decision, I felt sleep descend upon me.
The last conscious thought I had did not came from my own
mind.

    "I will love you forever, my beloved master."
<1st attachment end>


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