8 comments/ 16528 views/ 1 favorites Lost and Redeemed By: voluptuary_manque Writers need editors like flowers need bees. I want to express my thanks to Varian P, Stephenthorn, Sweetwitch and to Sweetness6280 for that kind of help and to MJL for constructive comments. I would love to hear from all of you, too. V_M LOST My world had changed after I was finally released from Walter Reed; I just didn't know how much. The prosthetic leg worked just fine, so fine that I when I returned to my job after 14 months in Iraq, no one realized that only about 7/8 of me had come back. It had no effect on our marriage, I thought, because Olivia had always had a wicked sense of humor. The idea of her having a fetish for one-legged lovers instead of some kinky guy cracked us both up. There must have been some other difference in me that got her started; one I didn't see. I'd been home about six months when Oli began talking about putting a little "spice" back into our relationship. Frankly, the idea puzzled me. Working couples never have the sex lives of porn stars or fantasy fiction characters but we were far from celibate. I couldn't help but wonder what kind of thing she had in mind so I tried to brush it off. That didn't work. Oli can be remarkably persistent at times and this was one of those times. I didn't think she was trying to ease me into cuckoldry or into having her take on a lesbian lover. In bed, she was just as passionate as she'd been when we were newlyweds, moaning and thrashing when I went down on her and taking my cock deep into her throat then licking me like an ice cream cone before finally sliding me into her pussy. She was still raking my back with her nails and wrapping her legs around me tightly as I fucked her so I doubted that my wife had become bored with our loving. So just what had she meant, "spice up our marriage"? I'd long been computer literate and Internet familiar and the varieties of sexual behavior out there amazed me--and sometimes worried me. One night, as she lay with her head on my chest, I found out what she meant. Running her warm hands up and down my chest and wickedly plucking the odd hair, Oli casually said, "You've gotten too sober, too subdued since you came home." "It's not easy returning to the civilian world," I mumbled. "I know, baby, but you need to loosen up a bit." Oli grinned, "How about a little discrete spouse swapping with another couple." That seemed a little drastic and didn't sit well with me, at all. "What about love, honor and cherish?" I asked. She bit my nipple hard enough to make me wince, saying, "Don't be silly. This isn't about love, baby, you know I love you. I don't need or want anybody else. This is only about the sex. Raw, nasty, rollicking, just for the fun of it, sex." Ok, so this wasn't because she was tired of me, but because she loved me. I looked at her, still not sure how to respond. "Besides, it's not for me," she insisted, "it's for you." "For me?" "Yes. You've had a bad time, baby. You've suffered through serious trauma and pain. You deserve something more than just a disability check." I wasn't convinced, but rather than continue a fight I knew I would lose, I conceded, "Well, maybe one time won't hurt." I was grateful that Oli didn't have anyone particular in mind. If she'd set us up with someone we already knew, I'd have been very suspicious that adultery was the real motive but instead she began discrete inquiries through the 'Net and among people she understood to be in "the lifestyle". It seemed safe enough. Eventually she announced that our first "date" would be with Ray and Elizabeth, a well-to-do couple about 10-12 years older than we are whose daughter was away at prep school. I had serious doubts about the wisdom of the whole thing but having already agreed in principle, I could hardly back out now. Olivia promised that all safe sex precautions would be carefully followed and that no one would have to do anything they didn't want to. We could even stop mid-stream, if I insisted, simply by saying a safe word. She recommended "grapefruit". That seemed fair. I hate grapefruit. The night of the big event we drove into a neighborhood I was completely unfamiliar with. Following Oli's directions, I parked in the driveway of a large house that was distinguished by its subtle Japanese landscaping and for its forecourt that completely obscured the front doors. Reluctantly, I walked through the February chill, and went up the walk and through the forecourt. I knocked on the huge, oak double doors, which immediately opened, revealing Elizabeth Oppenheimer. She was casually dressed in a sky-blue silk jumpsuit that complimented her eyes and set off her fit figure. I have to give Elizabeth credit. With her sparkling grin and twinkling eyes, her blond hair and gentle hands, she did her best to set us at ease. Large, round glasses and a cute snub nose gave her the appearance of a highly intelligent and very attractive little owl. She greeted us warmly but without any overt sexuality. She introduced her slightly older husband, Ray, who turned out to be the president of the local bank. He was large, genial and easy-going, obviously comfortable in his body and confident in his manner. "What do you drink?" he asked, setting out glasses and reaching for bottles from a very well-stocked bar. I was about to ask for beer because my mouth was dry, almost cottony from nervousness, when my wife announced that I needed a stiff bourbon, maybe a double. This brought a pause from both the bartender and his wife, complete with raised eyebrows. I should have seen at once that they realized I felt uncomfortable and should have given them the chance to reduce the evening to just dinner and conversation. Instead I was determined not to embarrass Olivia. However reluctant I was, I felt duty-bound to see this through. It's chilling what a man will do for duty. I have to admit that the dinner was excellent and the choice of wines complimented it well beyond my inexperienced palate. Perhaps if I had had more of that fine Pinot, things would have gone differently, gone better. Instead I toyed with my food and only sipped the wine. Even a truly spectacular crème brulet got no more than my minimal attention. Honestly, I was not having any fun. I should have said "grapefruit". After dessert we took our glasses and repaired to the candle lit living room, well furnished with broad couches and fat ottomans. Cool jazz played quietly and the conversation was light. Olivia seemed to be trying to talk for both of us, even to the point of almost desperate flirtation. I was still nestled down in the dark suede sofa, quietly nursing my wine, when Elizabeth cocked her head to one side and asked, "So, Olivia, just how broad is your experience? Have you ever done a woman?" Oli giggled and threw me a seductive glance. "Oh a time or two back in college. There was a fad for 'gay until you graduate' that died out quickly. Men are more fun, I think." Elizabeth's grin was broad. "I'm with you there, honey," she replied, "but a little variation never hurt anyone. Besides, one of the best ways to fire up the men folk is a little display of girly play. How about if you come on over here and we see just what we can ignite, hmmm?" Olivia positively slithered across the deep carpet and wrapped herself up in Elizabeth. Ray slid himself into a more supine, leg-spread position to watch the expected fun and games. He even unbuckled his trousers in anticipation. "This'll be great," he quietly advised me, "Liz is an ace on pussy." He must have seen something in my face that gave him pause because he added, "Remember, no one ever has to do anything they don't want to do." "Thank-you for saying that," I answered and stood up. "I don't think I want to watch your wife seducing mine. I'm pretty sure I won't want to have sex with her after she's finished, and I definitely don't want to watch you screwing Olivia. I'm going home now. Thanks so much for dinner; it was lovely. I want you to know that I have no hard feelings about this but it isn't my scene. It's unlikely we'll ever see each other again, so good night to you. My only question now is whether Oli is coming with me or whether I should stop back in the morning to pick her up." Olivia turned beet red but clapped her mouth shut and stood up quickly. Before I could think of anything else to say, Ray had our coats, hats and mufflers. Elizabeth stepped forward and put both hands on my shoulders. "You are a forthright and direct young man, Dennis O'Leary. You speak your mind and I admire that. I hope we do see each other again, but perhaps under less highly charged circumstances. Take good care of your Olivia. You two really are an excellent match and I wish you nothing but the best." There was nothing hurt or resentful in her voice or expression and she kissed me gently on the cheek before putting Oli's hand into mine. They walked us to our car and stayed waving good-bye as we drove off. I drove home through the winter darkness in silence. I wasn't angry, you understand, I just couldn't think of anything to say but I'm afraid Olivia took it hard. "Denny," she whispered and softly stroked my arm, "you weren't supposed to get mad and be rude. This was supposed to be fun for you. Wouldn't it have been hot to see Liz and me naked in the candle-light, crawling all over each other? Wouldn't that have made you want to jump her bones?" "No." "Oh, Denny!" She pulled back and started to cry, "I-I-I'm so s-s-sorry. You've been so solemn, so serious, and so glum lately; I thought it would help you feel better. I never thought you would take it like this. It's all been a t-terrible mistake. I guess I've really screwed up badly, haven't I?" I tried to think of something to say that would make her feel better, I really did. But nothing came out for the longest time. Finally I took a deep breath. "Oli, I'm not angry and I didn't mean to be rude. It's just . . . I can't get excited any more over someone I don't even know, let alone don't love. I don't feel any need for any other woman on the planet, only you. Can't you understand? There were a thousand opportunities in Iraq. Other officers, civilian employees, prostitutes from a dozen nations were all available any time I wanted one. I never even looked at them once. All I wanted was to stay alive and come home to you, only you." Maybe I should have never said the name, but once "Iraq" left my lips I started to get cold and shaky. I could feel a darkness beyond the night creeping up behind me and it was all I could do to stay within the speed limit to get us home and into the warm house. I was still feeling something coming as we got into our pajamas. As I moved over to the bed where Olivia lay, she smiled up at me. "It's O.K., Denny, it really is. Everything's going to be fine" That's when Hell strode in with its sleeves rolled up. Suddenly I smelled burning steel, burning rubber, burning oil, and burning flesh. I saw my driver, SGT Washington, looking up at me, smiling. "It's O.K., Captain, it really is. Everything's going to be fine." Then he died of his burns in my arms. I heard the rotor-beat of the dust-off chopper, felt the medics working on me and looked up at one of them. She smiled at me through her dust and her sweat. "It's O.K., Captain, it really is. Everything's going to be fine." The she tightened the tourniquet on my thigh, strapped me to a stretcher and stabbed me full of morphine to stop my screams. I came to, standing in front of my pale, horrified wife, then turned and hopped to the bathroom. I dove for the toilet, put my face in the bowl and threw up and threw up . . . and threw up. "Denny! Denny, what's wrong?" Olivia looked down at me in panic. "Denny, what's happening?" "Fuh . . . fuh . . . fuh . . . f-flashback, I think." I let go of the cold, hard porcelain, rolled to my knee and then stood up shaking. "I guess that's what it was. I've heard the old 'Nam vets tell about them and I thought they were exaggerating. They weren't, God help me!" I flushed that great dinner, probably lunch, breakfast and part of my soul down the sewer, washed my face and, clinging to my wife, climbed into bed. I think I must have curled up into a fetal position and I know I started to cry. Oli held me until I finally fell asleep. Everything went south from there. All the color seemed to drain out of the world and I was tired and crabby all the time. It got harder and harder to focus at work so I started dragging myself in early and staying late to make up for what I couldn't get done in a normal eight hours. I couldn't let my team down the way I had on the Baghdad road when I didn't see that IED. I couldn't let anyone down, ever again. Eventually I found myself leaving before light and coming home after Olivia was asleep. I'd microwave whatever she'd left for me and sleep on the couch in the den so I wouldn't wake her up. At last, one night I came home to find her still awake, sitting at the dinner table waiting for me. "Denny," her voice shook, "we can't go on like this. Something's horribly wrong. You need help, and I don't know what it is or how to give it to you. You have got to do something, got to get some sort of help because I just can't sit by and watch you. I feel so bad, so helpless seeing you shrivel up like you are. Please, Denny? If you don't do something, I'm going to have to get a hotel room or an apartment by myself or I'll go mad. We can't go on like this!" Like Paul on the road to Damascus, something like scales fell off my eyes and I saw my Oli for the first time in weeks, really saw her. She was haggard and had lost weight, a lot of weight. Dark circles hung under her eyes, her fingernails were chewed to nubs, her beautiful auburn hair was dull and her emerald eyes duller. My baby looked like she was dying and I was the one killing her. Oh God, I'd failed again. I'd let down my most important person in the world and I'd sworn I'd never do that. She was right. I had to do . . . something. "You're right, Oli, I've got to act or see a doctor or something. Don't move out, I'll think of . . . I don't know. Tell you what, I'll call Tanya at work, ask for some time off and stay home tomorrow. Would that be better?" She looked relieved and we slept together for the first time in over a month, curled up under the comforter like a couple of puppies trying to keep warm in a cold world. In the morning I called my supervisor and asked for two weeks vacation. The relief in her answering voice was almost palpable as she suggested, "Denny, why don't you take three weeks. I can wire your vacation pay to your bank, so you and Oli have some money to relax. A good rest is exactly what you need. I've been worried about you and I'm glad you decided to take some time." I knew what I had to do. After Oli left for the office I downloaded a boilerplate will off the Internet and filled it in, making sure that every possible asset I had would go to her and that the state wouldn't be able to get any of its grubby hooks into my lady's future. I needed someone to witness it and looked out the window. Harold, across the street, was a retired naval Chief Petty Officer. He'd been the Boat God on nuclear subs with a ferocious reputation for proper procedure and discipline. Now he spent his time tending roses and doting on the neighborhood kids. I figured he'd do so I took the will over to him with a ballpoint in hand. "Good idea, skipper," he drawled "you can't start too early thinking of taking care of the womenfolk. I've known too many youngsters who thought they had all the time in the world to write one of these. It only takes one slick spot on a rainy highway to prove how wrong you can be about such things." He signed and dated the witness line. We chatted a bit about the problems of April showers bringing mildew and aphids in the early spring and then I went inside. Everything seemed to be in order. The 'no payment in case of suicide' clause in my life insurance had lapsed two years before. The house would be paid for. Olivia would get my VA widow's benefits and all the money in our accounts. All I had to do now was write a letter saying good-by. With tears flowing down my cheeks, I wrote my good-bye. Dear Oli, I love you more than anything in the world. I'm so sorry for the pain I've caused you, for how much I've made you worry. I've taken care of everything for you, my love. Everything you need is right here. The house will be paid for, and you will get what you need to live on. I hope it will help you find a decent guy, one who can take care of you the way you deserve. Someone who is not the damaged goods I've become. Have the VA bury me. They owe it to us, and it will save some money on the funeral. I know you will cry some, but try to get over it as soon as possible and carry on with your life. I love you, Denny I crisply folded up the letter, along with the will and all the insurance policies and put them on the linen dining room tablecloth where she could find them when she got home from work that evening. Then I put on my coat, walked out to my truck and drove to the river. There's a pretty little park next to the Black Canyon Bridge and I parked the Ford over in one corner where it wouldn't get in anyone's way. As I slowly walked out on the sidewalk that paralleled the road across the bridge, I could feel the cold wind lift my hair, nipping at my nose and ears. The same wind made the whole bridge vibrate and moan under my feet. The sound was eerie and fit my mood. From the center of the span I could look down into Black Canyon. It was a good fifty foot drop or more to the river that ran smooth, swift, and deep. The water below me looked cold, dark and inviting. Eddys swirled out from both banks and I thought that they looked like hands, open and beguiling. After a few minutes, I looked down at my feet and remembered that my shoes were less than two months old. There was no sense letting them go to waste when someone else could use them so I took them off my foot and my "peg", tied the laces together and looped them over the side rail. My coat was still useable, too, so I took it off and hung it over the shoes. I thought about taking off the prosthesis but the likelihood that there was someone else out there exactly my size, weight, and stump length was so remote that it didn't seem worth the effort. I took one long last look back at the park, another down to the river and a last deep breath of April. I thought I heard an owl call my name. RETRIEVED That bridge, that bridge, that damned-to-Hell bridge! Elizabeth Oppenheimer raced the silver Lexus across town at furious speed careening around turns the luxury sedan was never built to take. Like San Francisco's Golden Gate, Black Canyon Bridge had been a magnet for the suicidal ever since it opened. Twice the city council had voted to seek some way of reducing the death toll by modifying the structure but each time the proposal had bogged down in feasibility studies, environmental impact reports, and cost/benefit analyses. No action had been taken, no changes made, and the lost and the lonely continued to die. Elizabeth was personal friends with every member of that city council and she swore that if Captain Dennis O'Leary died because of bureaucratic inertia, heads would roll. She'd taken a liking to the O'Leary's during that disastrous attempt at spouse-swapping and had sympathized with Olivia on the phone regularly in the weeks that followed. Now she could only bless CPO Harold Houston who had called Oli's office as soon as he'd signed Dennis' will and warned her that something bad was afoot. The Chief had called Olivia; Olivia had rushed home, read the letter and then called Liz in hysterics. Liz had called 9-1-1. Now it was a desperate race for one young man's life. Lost and Redeemed As she flew up the approach to the span over Black Canyon, Liz could see a figure standing in the middle taking off his coat and neatly hanging it over something on the railing. With a screaming of tires and overburdened break pads, the sedan skidded to a halt next to her quarry. "Dennis O'Leary, don't you dare move!" Elizabeth's best angry teacher voice echoed across the canyon as she leapt from the driver's seat and, glasses bobbing on her nose, stormed up to the astonished young veteran. Grabbing his shirt front in both fists she jerked his face down to hers and continued. "Get this straight, O'Leary, we are not, repeat not burying you and your wife in the same grave on the same day and that's just what will happen if you do something really, really stupid here. You die now and she won't last 24 hours. You want to be responsible for a death by broken heart? Do you?" She hauled back and slapped him across the face, hard. "Put that coat back on—and the shoes, too, damn it. Do it now!" Grabbing his ear she opened the passenger door and physically shoved him into the car, pinned him in with the seatbelt, then slammed the door and activated the child-proof lock. Only when he was safe inside could Elizabeth turn, lean against the still-warm hood and stand, her shoulders shaking, while she sobbed and waited as emergency vehicles of all sorts wailed their way towards her. We were in time; we really were in time just this once, she thought. Four screaming squad cars pulled up in front and behind her followed closely by the fire department's river rescue team. The unmistakable throb of helicopter blades overhead was counterpoint to the howling sirens and the deep-throated roar of the jet boat below. A young police officer hurried up to her. "Mrs. Oppenheimer? Is CPT O'Leary all right? Were we in time?" "Yes, yes, we were, and you have no idea how glad I am to see you . . . and everyone else." Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth popped open her cell phone and called home. "Raymond? He's o.k. I've got him in the car. Tell Olivia I'm bringing him back to the house. Let me give a quick report to all the rescue folk here and I'll have him home as soon as I can." Later, with both O'Leary's sleeping off the paramedics' sedatives, the Oppenheimers sat soberly considering their options. "Olivia told us he was an amputee but there was nothing in the background check to suggest he might have Post-Traumatic Stress Disease. Did you suspect anything?" Ray began. "No, I didn't ask, and it never crossed my mind but we should have gotten a clue that something was wrong that first night, you know. Damn, I don't think even Olivia realized how emotionally torn the poor guy was." Elizabeth's expression was wry but the guilt and bitterness in her voice was unmistakable. "Would it have made any difference, do you think?" "Possibly. In any case it does help explain what's happened and what should happen. It's really stupid, when you think about it. A guy comes back from the war in fewer pieces than he left with and it takes months or even years for the system to grind out a proper decision. In the mean time, he could be poor, homeless or dead." "Well, at least we prevented the last. For some reason I think we owe these two something. I know it wasn't our fault that he suddenly collapsed but I still feel responsible because of what happened the night we met. You and I have to make sure that Denny doesn't end up either poor or homeless. Raymond James, Dennis needs a friend." "A friend, Liz? Den and Oli need a family. She told me that her parents are divorced, one in California and one in Seattle, and that his parents live in Florida . . . in a nursing home. Neither of them has any siblings, only each other. Sweetheart, they're such decent kids that I think we just acquired a couple of . . . what? Older children? Younger siblings? We can't just send them home and hope for the best." REDEEMED "Denny? Denny, are you awake, honey?" "Mm-hm," I slowly opened my eyes to see Olivia sitting on the sofa where I had been sleeping. She was leaning over, looking anxiously down at me. Physically she wasn't any different than she was the night before but there was light in her eyes again and a little smile on her face. I thought she looked wonderful. I looked around and saw that I was back in the same living room with the broad sofas and the fat ottomans that we walked out of that night back in February. Ray Oppenheimer stood off to one side with his arm wrapped affectionately around Elizabeth. They were both smiling at me. "Home is the hunter, home from the hill and the sailor home from the sea. -- Robert Lewis Stevenson. And home is the soldier, home from the sand. Are you feeling better, now? You've been asleep for about six hours." As Ray spoke, he stepped to the bar and poured seltzer water over some ice in a tumbler and handed it to me. It tasted of the lemon he'd squeezed into it and made my nose tingle. It may have been the best thing I ever drank. Somehow I managed to sit and then stand up. I looked down at Olivia and then over at Ray and Elizabeth. "Thank-you. From the bottom of my heart, I thank-you. I owe you my life and more importantly, I owe you Olivia. I think we'll be all right, now. "Did you think you were going anywhere?" Liz raised an eyebrow. "Dinner's ready and we have some other guests you need to meet. Now go wash up" There were others already seated around the table. Harold and his wife were there and that made me blush. I should have known that a junior officer couldn't keep a secret from an old NCO. The other pair of guests was an African-American couple. He was tall and imposing; she was almost frighteningly beautiful in a lush, Reubens-esque kind of way. Ray introduced them as Charles and Victoria Smyth-Jefferson and said that they were there to provide any legal or psychological advice that might be needed over the course of the evening. The meal was a far cry from the opulence of our first meeting. I guess someone decided that "comfort food" was in order and had cooked up a huge kettle of a rich beef stew served over mashed potatoes. No alcohol was on the table because of our medications though the variety of soft drinks was considerable. There was little conversation as we all dug in; it was the first meal I'd been able to taste in weeks. Afterwards, with chairs pushed back, Ray got down to the point. "What have you found out, Charles?" he began. "Why is CPT O'Leary only getting that small check?" Mr. Smyth-Jefferson's voice seemed to come from deep in a cave. "Actually, it appears to be nothing more complicated than a coding error. The Army is well aware of the captain's condition and length of service. The VA was surprised that he wasn't getting more. Next month he should begin receiving both his compensation and his medically retired captain's pension. It's no fortune, but it will definitely support them both while he undergoes treatment." "Which begins tomorrow," Victoria added. "Our daughter Deserea isn't in class on Wednesdays so she'll get him over to the VA and her fiancé Justin will retrieve the truck. Everyone in the system is mighty embarrassed by the errors. None of this should ever have happened. I'm a little concerned, though, about the next month or so. You two youngsters really need someone to keep an eye on you. Chief, can we get you to volunteer?" Before Harold could answer, Elizabeth seized control of the conversation. "While I'm sure that no one could do better job than the Chief, Denny and Olivia are staying with us. The house is large and only two of us live here most of the time so there will be plenty of room. Once Oli is able to go back to work, Denny will still be in treatment so their days are taken care of. Nights will be our watch." Oli and I were stunned. Of course the fact that we were still a little drugged probably had something to do with our slow response but still, we were expecting to go home that night. Little did we suspect that we might already have arrived. Late April turned to May, then to June. Our house had been rented and now school was out, freeing Elizabeth for the summer. After due consideration, the Oppenheimers thought that though Ray still had to spend his weekdays keeping the community solvent, the three of us should hold down the fort, as it were, at their cabin on the lake. He would come up on Friday evening and leave again on Sunday but for the summer Oli could loll around, I could fish and garden and Liz could brush up on her mothering skills with the two of us. The VA docs okayed the idea and even suggested that probably I could be weaned off the Prozac. The heat of the following July put me onto a soft bench in the shade. The baggy swim trunks I wore were the perfect compliment to the floppy hat over my face. Exertion was strictly out of the question in the oppressive heat, especially with my belly full. I was thoroughly at peace with the world when I felt someone take hold of my foot and begin to rub it. Olivia has always cooed over foot massages but they had never interested me any. Whoever was doing this one, though, was awfully good and I couldn't help but skooch down a little deeper into the padding and smile. After a while the fingers began to dig in deeper and to concentrate on a particular place up near the metatarsal arch. It started to feel better yet, even arousing. Before I could ditch the hat and sit up, I felt the hands leave my foot and settle on my shoulders. I heard Olivia whispering. "Remember, Denny, no one has to do anything they don't want but what do you want? Her right hand left my shoulder and worked its way down my chest and belly. The slow stroke of her soft fingers reached the front of my trunks, trailing fire through my loins. I moaned. We hadn't had sex for months, what with my breakdown and the Prozac's side effects. I wasn't sure that this was the time to begin again, either. I pushed the hat off my face and looked up at her, a little worried, and saw that three months of Elizabeth's care had returned my gorgeous colleen to a picture of glowing, desirable health. The worry slinked away and hid. "What do you want?" she repeated in a whisper, "Do you, just maybe, want to take off my top?" As slow as a man in a dream I watched my hands reach up and pulled the ties behind her neck and back. The bikini bra fell away freeing those wonderful, full, freckled breasts. The deep rose, ice-cream-cone nipples stood at attention, demanding my lips. I pulled her down and suckled, though more like an infant than a lover. After a few minutes Oli pulled away, stripped off my trunks and her thong, and then straddled me and the bench. She reached down and grabbed a firm hold on my aching manhood. Though she was still a little dry, my lady placed its head at the doorway to her sex and sat down, slowly. She squirmed and wiggled until I was seated firmly within her then she sat straight up, put her hands on my stomach and started to rock slowly back and forth. "Oh, Denny, it's been so long." she sighed. Then, glancing up, she grinned, giggled, and blushed a bit. "Denny, Liz can see us right out the kitchen window. She has her own private porn flick playing out on her front lawn." "Let her watch." I replied. "We'll give her a show. I'm just glad there aren't any neighbors." "Denny, Ray is coming up early this week." Oli's sigh became a chortle. "There is some kind of monthly party that goes on back in town that they've missed since they took us in. I suppose we have now been 'officially' declared safe enough to be left alone for the weekend so they're going. I hope they have a good time. I'm going to make sure we do." "All weekend? Woman, you're going to kill me . . . but what a way to go! Come back down, here, you." Instead of complying, she lifted her legs and turned completely around facing my feet. Then she lay back on my chest with her back arched, stretched her arms over her head, turned to rub her face on mine and murmured "Fuck me, Denny, fuck me royally." I hooked the heels of both my foot and my prosthesis against the foot of the bench and began to drive upwards and into her. My hands ran down the mounds and hollows of her body, teasing, fondling and caressing. "Denny," she whispered, "your hands are so hot." I squeezed her pliant breasts tighter then began to twist and pull first on one nipple then the other. At each little tug Oli twitched like she'd been shocked. I pulled harder and the twitches became spasms. "More please more," she moaned. Saliva trickled from her open mouth. Deeply driving into her cleft with both phallus and fingers, I found her sopping wet, her labia swollen and puffy with desire. My hands and manhood glistened with her juices as I slowly, so slowly quickened my pace. Then, when it seemed she could stand no more teasing I grasped her protruding clitoris between my thumb and forefinger and squeezed. Olivia screamed and I had to hold her down for fear her orgasm would throw her off of me onto the ground. Spasms became near seizures and she shouted and mumbled incoherently. It seemed to go on and one until finally she gushed all over my cock and thighs. When it was at last over, Olivia reached down and grabbed my wrist, pulling it away from her sex. "Enough, Denny, enough. That's all I can take for now. Oh my God what you do to me, lover. Now hold still for just a while so I can catch my breath." Once Oli had come down, she got off, pulled me up into a sitting position, turned me sideways on the bench and then impaled herself on my lap. Her arms snaked around my neck and her legs around my back. Her mouth was hot and her tongue a glowing coal in my mouth. She rubbed her peg-stiff nipples back and forth on my chest for the longest time until my vision blurred. Then she straightened up. "Hold still," she commanded, "this is called the Wave of Bliss. Liz told me about it." Olivia started to slowly rock her pelvis up and down, stroking my manhood and rubbing my pelvis with her clit. "Look into my right eye, concentrate on it. Now match my breathing." Long deep breaths flowed between us, the fragrance of her arousal hypnotizing me until I felt I was falling deep, deep into her emerald eyes, falling forever, almost joining mind and soul with my wife's. We completely lost track of time together . . . so dinner was really late that night. July stretched into August. More and more I began to look forward to Ray's weekends with us. He'd always been a "for business" golfer who never really enjoyed the game. Now he discovered my delight in bass fishing and began to share it. The day he drove up with a pair of kayaks on the roof rack, we silently slid them onto the water and laid our plastic worms into grass flats and next to logs. There's something almost sexual about fishing like that. Long, narrow kayaks slip wetly over the water to a steady beat of the paddles. Each back-and-forth cast increases the tension and the anticipation rises until the fish suddenly takes the bait in a great explosive rush, leaping clear of the water and making your hair stand on end. The day we brought home Ray's first really big largemouth bass, he was shaking with excitement. Liz said he hadn't been that proud the since he'd taken over the bank. I was proud of him, too. Occasionally their daughter, Sarah, would come up for a visit. Most of the year she was away at a very high-grade prep school, sweating her way towards a medical career, but on vacation she came home. Being sixteen, she was happier in town with her friends but would occasionally simply have to get in some "mom" time with Elizabeth. Happily, upon being introduced to us, she immediately labeled us Uncle Den and Auntie Ol and included us in her teenage chatter, her hugs, cheek kisses and all the other little things that show you how delightful a really well-brought-up young person can be. We thought it would be a shame that when we returned to town, Sarah would be gone again. The school year was approaching and so was the end of our idyll. You would think that I was most upset because it meant the end of a 'vacation' but I'd have blushed to admit that down deep I was jealous of Liz's high school English students. That's right, jealous, because I'd become used to the combined attention both women showed me and now her students were about to take some of it away. Olivia's and my sex life had certainly been 'spiced up' over the last month, but I found my eyes periodically wandering over to a bikini full of blond Elizabeth. It was making me wonder if I hadn't made a serious mistake when I put a stop to the swap. My feelings were almost certainly aided and abetted by the occasional gentle strokes she made on my hair, the touches on my face and, every once in a while, friendly swats on my butt. When Ray came up, his ardor for his wife didn't bother me at all. After all, she was his woman, whatever my changing feelings for her might be. I didn't resent his obvious admiration of Olivia, either. After all, if other men don't have a yen for your lady, why would you? One evening when we stood next to each other grilling up a mess of fresh catfish for dinner, we looked down towards the lake where the two bikinied women were cavorting and splashing around. A warm smile lit up his face and he murmured "Aren't women wonderful?" "Those two, especially" I agreed. "I just have to feel that somehow they not only belong to us but that they belong together. Weird, huh?" Ray looked at me for a long time but just smiled. No, it wasn't just Ray and I who bonded that summer. Liz and Olivia often giggled like schoolgirls over things I didn't hear and when Ray arrived each Friday with steaks and drinks my Oli would flirt shamelessly with him, though from the "safety" of my lap. If you had asked, then, I'd have called those two months the best time of my life. EMBRACED It was late September and once more we sat around the dining table at the Oppenheimers. The last four months had been an education for me in fine food and wine in the same way it had been in freshwater angling for Ray. He and I had become very close and perhaps our wives had become even closer. As the four of us lingered over port, nuts and cheese, I thought that this was what Olivia probably really wanted when she tried to set us up for a swinging party. It wasn't recreational sex I needed most, though, but companionship and a warm return to the community. Close, perhaps, my dearest, but no cigar. "Wonderful dinner, as usual, Liz," I began. "Oli and I are really going to miss this when we move back into our house. The renters have given notice so I guess we're about to reclaim our property. Tanya has been very patient during my convalescence but the firm has gotten in a couple of really big contracts and they need me back. And I have to admit that I'm beginning to feel a need to start carrying my own weight in the world again." Moving back into our house was an emotional wrench but neither Oli nor I could comfortably live off the Oppenheimer's good nature forever. Besides, those major contracts Tanya told me about meant a promotion as soon as I reported back. New people were being hired and skilled technicians were being promoted to supervisor. I was one of the first to be tapped. The first day of October I parked my truck at Black Canyon Park once again but this time I wasn't alone. I pulled the emergency brake with a creak and, taking the white hard hat off my dusty dashboard, stepped out into the pungent, smoky, autumn air. Tanya got out of the other side and slammed the door. We nodded silently to each other and started marching down the path in step, our boots crunching on the gravel. At the food of the bridge, the company's construction engineers were in conference with the mayor, the head of the state transportation agency, and our local Congressman's chief of staff. Black Canyon Bridge had taken its last life, and it was sweet revenge to be lead man on the computer assisted design team. "Never again, you steel monster," I heard Tanya mutter through her teeth, "never again!" Lost and Redeemed October also turned out to include Sarah's birthday and she came home insisting on two things for the celebration. She wanted all her friends taken on a late night hay ride and was adamant that her "Uncle Den" and "Auntie Ol" come along as additional chaperones. The party began with cake and punch, continued with presents that were opened to delighted squeals and finally saw us, Ray and Liz and eight teenagers all piled into a straw-filled, horse-drawn wagon. The driver put all the males on the bottom straw layer then threw in another of sweet-smelling hay before letting the girls climb onto us. He followed it up with a last layer of dry, fragrant clover then climbed up onto the box and snapped the whip to begin the ride. Even though the night air had a frosty nip to it, under the hay and Olivia I was too warm. The perfume of the hay mixed the fug of the horses and the smell of Olivia's perspiration. Ray began to perspire, too, so he opened his jacket and squirmed around to take it off. In the process he dumped Elizabeth on top of me and Oli. My wife fell to one side, giggling, and I found myself with a face full apple-scented blond hair and Liz's soft, round breasts pushed against my chest. In my attempts to help her back up, I ended up with one clutched in my left hand. Before I could apologize, she whispered "Denny, you devil, you!" and pinched me on the ass. Then she climbed back onto her husband's lap as if nothing had happened, but I think Olivia guessed. At least, she winked at me. The Holidays were a sad time. My parents had been in failing health for several years and that December was their last. Mom outlived Dad by no more than a couple of weeks and I have to believe that they were both ready, if not glad, to go. When we came back from Florida after the funerals, it was New Year's Eve and we spent it in bed, asleep. Finally it was the month of Valentines, of Romance, of chocolate to melt in your mouth (and all over your lover) and of underwear designed to be worn no more than a few minutes. February's weather is good for nothing else so we may as well celebrate love since it mostly happens indoors. The post-Valentine's Friday found us back for a visit at the Oppenheimers'. Dinner was over and the dessert champagne was flowing quite freely. It still made my nose tickle and my teeth itch, but the delirious effects were so enjoyable that I went back for . . . actually, I'm not sure how much I had. I do know that there were several empty bottles lying around, that there was another in the ice bucket and that I was feeling very, very good. I was once more nestled down in the brown suede next to my wife. I had a drink in my hand, a buzz in my head and a smile on my face when Ray started teasing Olivia. "So prithee, my pretty maid, what did yon virile swain gift you this Valentine's?" Oh dear Lord, a Shakespearean in the banking business! Next I expected the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet to begin. Instead, Oli stuck her tongue out naughtily, poked her nose up in the air and sniffed, "I'll never tell. At least, I won't tell first. You tell us what Liz got and then I'll talk." "Oh, is that the name of the game?" Elizabeth's eyes sparkled and she started to giggle. "Maybe instead of telling, we could show the boys how their presents look. Are you up for that?" "Fine by me," Oli began, "but . . . " Suddenly three sets of eyes turned my direction. I blinked in confusion and then up through my befuddled brain came the realization that tonight, as luck would have it, was exactly three hundred, sixty-five days since we first met. One year ago I had been in a very similar position and had brought the evening to a very sudden stop. Now I didn't know what to say. All I could do was sit there with my mouth open, my cheeks ablaze, and a helpless look on my face. Elizabeth stood up, walked slowly over to me, then sat down on the rug and rested her arm gently on my good knee. "Denny," her face was aglow with warmth and concern, "would it make you feel better if we told you that when you refused the swap neither Ray nor I was upset? That, really, we were just a little relieved?" Then Ray came over and sat next to Oli. "Dennis, Olivia . . .," he began, "for months I've been trying to understand everything that has happened clear back from the beginning. Logically, it makes no sense unless you accept that 'everything happens for a reason.' You see, Liz and I aren't really what most people think of as swingers. We don't go to clubs, attend conventions in Las Vegas or actively solicit new sex partners. Most accurately, you could call us polyamorous. That is to say that we have a group of dear friends that we've known for years and love very much . . . and with whom we sometimes make love. We really never have sought lovers outside that group." Liz continued, "How Olivia got our names for a 'discreet swap' neither Ray nor I have ever been able to figure out. We just don't make a habit of that, never have. If it had been anyone else asking, I'd have politely declined but when she talked me into meeting for lunch to talk about it . . . well, as you know better than anyone else, Olivia is irresistible and so were her reasons. She wanted to bring back the joy of life to her wounded warrior because he seemed to have lost it. It was a crazy idea, as that first night showed, but when she proposed it, it made perfect sense. Blame it on her charisma or something." Ray smiled ruefully, "Whatever the cause, I have to thank God it happened. If it had been someone other than us, I doubt that there would have been anyone else on that damned bridge for you. And I'm eternally grateful for what came afterwards. I've got the younger brother I never had, the friend I never knew I needed." Elizabeth reached over and laid a fond hand on Oli's knee. "And I've got someone who is neither a sister nor a daughter nor even a lover but someone who appeals to me on all three of those levels. You two need to understand that we've missed you terribly these last months and really don't want you to ever leave again." My jaw dropped. Never leave again? Move back with them? Permanently? Still, I had to admit that I felt more at home in their house than in any other place in the world. "Just what are you suggesting?" I asked a bit hesitantly. "What we're suggesting is beyond friendship, Denny," Ray's grin was now broad, "way beyond. As I said, we're polyamorous. We know far better than almost anyone else that loving more than one other person is not only possible, it's easy. In fact, we do. And what do people do when they love each other? They share. We want to share our home, our time and ourselves with you." Oli let out a little squeak and clapped her hand over her mouth but behind her fingers I could see a grin that almost split her face. Her eyes danced and twinkled and her cheeks turned pink. "You want to share Elizabeth with Denny and have him share me with Ray?" she asked. "Darling" Liz responded "there are four different issues at play here. Ray wants to share me with Dennis and I want to be shared. I love having two men loving me at once. I also want to share Ray with you. And what man wouldn't want two women at the same time, especially two who love him? "Then there's the question of whether you want to share Denny with me and does he want to be shared? And finally you two have to decide if Denny is comfortable sharing you with Ray and are you willing to be shared? It may sound like these four questions are the same but we feel that they are very separate and each one has to be answered in turn, one way or another. Remember, no one has to do anything they don't want to." "Well, my beloved," Olivia reached up and gently brushed my blushing face, "we're back to that original question. What do you want to do? Do you want now what you turned down last year? I think you do. I've seen the way you've been looking at Liz ever since July and I know what you're feeling. I feel it, too. Liz wants to share herself with you and Ray also wants that. The only question is what do you want? I understand, now, what went wrong the first time. You were right. My Dennis can't get it on with someone he doesn't know, doesn't love. But you love Liz now, don't you? Do you love her that much?" I looked across her to Ray who grinned back at me and winked. I saw my wife positively squirming in anticipation. I lowered my eyes to Elizabeth who slowly leaned forward to show off her delectable cleavage and to shake her shoulders seductively. I felt like I was kneeling at the altar and being questioned by the priest. Do I really want to join with these two and become four? "Yes," I reached down to Elizabeth, "I do." I stood, pulled her upright and then took her in my arms. Her hands, like warm velvet, stroked my face, ran possessively through my hair then pulled me down to her waiting mouth. The kiss was molten and lasted a long time. Our tongue-play was fierce and we probed each other, greedily reaching deeply into each other's cheeks and lips. When we finally came up for air, I was gasping and dizzy. "Do you know," she murmured, licking my neck gently, "you earned my respect that first night when you said that you were going home. Getting my desire took longer. It's been a long and unusual seduction, Dennis O'Leary, but I'm going to make it worth every minute of the wait. Just don't scare us again, hmmm?" "No chance of that." I responded reaching for the buttons on her blouse, "If I had more to live for than I realized back then, I have just that much more to live for now!" Each round, satin-covered button came apart with a gentle 'pop' and unveiled more delicate, apricot skin. To my delight, Liz was wearing a front-opening bra that was nearly sheer and that pushed her breasts up so that when I unfastened the catch, they fell softly into my waiting hands. Mesmerized, I could only fondle them, tweaking and twisting the hardening nipples until she shuddered with need. I couldn't stand it anymore and roughly tugged the blouse away and nearly tore her skirt getting it off and down to her ankles. Now, only a wisp of sheer silk panty lay between us. Another naked body pressed against mine from behind. "Silly Denny, you can't take her with your clothes on." Olivia whispered in my ear, "Here, let me help." Eager hands nearly ripped open my shirt and tore the buckle from my Levi's. Tearing my hands away from Elizabeth, Oli jerked off my shirt then pushed her thumbs down inside my boxers. A second later, I was naked with her hot, bare breasts and belly pressed against my back. "Now tiger, go get her!" Olivia growled and sank her teeth into my shoulder muscles. Liz hooked her fingers through the tiny waistband of her Valentine's Day panties. Beginning to sway languorously, she slowly teased them down to her thighs. She swung her hips around in wide, maddening circles then bent at the waist and dropped the last bit of her lingerie onto the carpet. Liz began to dance to a beat only she could hear and ran her hands all over herself. Wanton to the touch, reveling in the rapture of her own hands, she danced. Breasts squeezed, belly rippling, and tongue out she thrust and rocked until my face was flaming and felt like the skin was about to pop off. By now, Roy was naked too and his excitement was both obvious and turgid. He shoved one of the ottomans over near us then leered "Up you get, wench, it sharing time." Elizabeth slithered up onto the ottoman onto her hands and knees. The height brought her mouth right to my cock, which Oli was stroking into readiness. Liz reached out and pulled me close to take the helmet in between her lips and began to suck. Her warm, wet mouth surrounded me, and I felt myself begin to grow harder inside it. Her tongue slid around in a circle on the underside and began to drive me mad. It gave me the most amazing sensations and I thought I might lose all control right then. I grabbed her hair to keep my balance, and then felt her hum as her husband ran his hard manhood up and down her moistening cleft. The hum became a happy moan as he put it to her opening and slid it home. Ray reached out his right hand and after a moment of confusion, I reached forward to grab his forearm in the old Roman style and we clasped each other's elbows firmly. "Hold still, Denny," he said "and take deep, slow breaths. Let Liz take charge and you're in for a long, wonderful evening. The woman's an expert." He wasn't kidding. Liz took a deep breath and, leaning forward, swallowed me completely then slid back onto her husbands cock and exhaled. Forward and back she rocked at a slow, steady rhythm that brought my arousal higher and higher. If I felt my face expanding before it was just a prelude. My whole body tightened and I felt my pulse in my ears, my hands, my feet and most especially where Elizabeth held me. My left hand clutched her hair tightly as climax approached but just as I was about to explode, she reached up and squeezed the base of my cock to block my ejaculation. Electric fireworks went off in my head and down my body but I stayed just as stiff as I had been. "Multiple orgasms are just as easy for men as they are for women," I vaguely heard Ray tell me, "you just have to be taught how to do it." As I came partway down, Olivia wrapped her arms around mine and pinned me from behind. I felt her naked nipples rubbing my back and her trimmed mons thrusting against my buttocks. With the kind of attention I was getting, fore and aft, I could do nothing but stand there stunned, breathing deeply and enjoy as the sucking went on and on and on. Then Oli let go of me and turned her attention to Ray's unprotected back. "May I share him, Liz?" she asked over his shoulder. I felt the affirmative answer through Liz's lips. "Mm-mm!" Ray's grin nearly split his face as my woman climbed his frame from behind while his wife moved back and forth between us. His eyes closed and we clung to each other's hands to keep from falling over. Olivia finally released the poor man and stepped out front of him with a feral expression on her face. She tapped Elizabeth's shoulder. "May I cut in?" she asked, looking up at me. I felt like I was glowing from within. Blood pounded in my ears, my shoulders tingled and my skin felt too tight to hold all of me inside. Testosterone took over and I nearly snarled in response. "Get up here, you hot piece of ass. We've seen what Liz's got, now it's your turn in the barrel!" Liz let go of me and slipped away from Ray. With a wicked smile she motioned my wife to take her place on the ottoman and slowly, liquidly, rose to her feet. Oli squealed happily in response and fairly jumped up onto the ottoman between us. She arched her back to push out her swollen, glistening labia towards me and reached up, grabbed Ray's cock and shoved it deep into her eager mouth. I sank to the hilt within her, balanced myself with a hand on each butt-cheek, moaned ecstatically, and started to pump. Liz knelt down and reached out to grab both Oli's engorged, hard nipples. She began to squeeze them, first one, then the other, milking them slowly and sensually. "Oh, this is hot," murmured the blond as she pulled and stroked, "I should have a milk bucket for morning coffee. Olivia, it's about time you were bred, my girl. This house hasn't had any babies in it to play with for far too long." Olivia's eyes glazed over. Hips and shoulders swaying, she took us both, spit-roasted mouth and pussy for what seemed hours. At last she first quivered, then shook and finally collapsed whimpering and gasping for breath. I fell back onto the sofa. I wanted to go help my wife up but was too weak. Liz stepped in, instead. "Damn, girl, when Dennis called you a hot piece of ass he meant it. I haven't gone that long myself in years." She pulled Oli up to sit on her lap. "Poor baby, did those mean old men give you a hard time?" Olivia started to giggle. It was a poor, old joke but it hit home. "No, they gave me two hard times and they can do it again any day they feel like it. Do you want them, now?" Elizabeth ran her hands down Oli's face, her shoulders and then stopped, covering her breasts. "No, Olivia, now I want you." She laid my wife back down onto the ottoman then began to caress her body. Face, breasts, thighs, hips and mound all gently, silkily touched, slowly and seductively. Oli's nipples hardened again and goosebumps puckered her skin. Liz reached down to probe her pink wetness with a finger, then two and finally three fingers were inside my lady, luxuriously stroking her G-spot. Oli shuddered electrically and spread her arms and thighs wide in submission. "Oh God, Liz, take me. Take me." In response, Elizabeth smiled wider then bent down and kissed Olivia's lower lips, shiny with secretions. Kisses became licks, licks became probing and then sucking on Oli's protruding clit. "Hold me down, Denny, hold me down for her!" The plea pulled me quickly to her head. I pressed her arms against the suede and smiled down into that beautiful face, watching her eyes roll back, her jaw go slack and her mouth opening in an ecstatic moan. Pulling away, Liz lifted her love juice covered face and grabbed my wife's ankles pushing them high over her chest. Olivia's wet sex now fully exposed, Elizabeth spread her own thighs and descended on it, clit to clit, labia to labia, and began to rock. I didn't know women could get off that way and I stared down between Oli's thighs, between her breasts at the sight and got harder than I'd ever been in my life. I was just on the verge of throwing Liz down and jumping her bones when both of them came together, soaking each other and the leather beneath them in an explosion of lust and release. When the wails and shaking died down, Liz sat up. "Well, girlfriend," she cocked an eyebrow at my lady, "are you ready to be had?" "Baby, I'm ready. Let 'em at us! Both women lay back, side by side, on the ottomans, squeezed each other's hands and smiled affectionately at each other. Then they turned to us. "Come on down, big boy," Oli purred to Ray "come and get it." Liz reached up, grabbed both my hands and pulled me between her sopping, outstretched thighs then squeezed each of my buttocks in a hand. She dug her nails into my skin as I slipped inside her. "Dennis," she whispered, "plow my field. It's almost planting season" Never in my life could I have imagined what sex could be like until I entered Elizabeth. Her vaginal muscles gripped me like a fist and then rippled up and down along my length. It was astonishing. She seemed to just be lying there but inside it was a different story. "You like?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, "It isn't hard to do. I'll teach Olivia. We'll tie you down and then both work you over like this. It will be so much fun." I looked over at my wife and Liz's husband. Ray had turned Oli over, and was pounding her from behind. The slapping and the slurping sounds were more than I could resist. It felt so good being inside of Liz and it looked so hot with Ray inside Oli that I finally shot my load. I'd never cum like that before. I felt the release clear from my toes on up and when I was spent I just collapsed onto my new lover like a wet dishrag. Elizabeth petted and stroked my back, licked the shell of my ear and nibbled the tip of my nose. All passion was spent and we lay there in the afterglow kissing softly and rubbing our faces together. "My lovely man," she crooned, "we're all going to be so happy together. And some day, if you want, we'll introduce you to the others we love and you can make love to them, too. But only, my dearest, if you want to." Much later that night, Olivia and I lay in each other's arms, back in the four-poster bed in the Oppenheimer's guest room. We were home now, we knew, with wild adventures to come. For now, though, the two of us just lay on the very edge of sleep, cuddling. Lost and Redeemed "Baby," I mumbled, "Liz is right. It's time we started a family." "No, it's not." The soft reply was firm. "You need to do Liz first. Her clock runs out before mine." My eyes popped open. "Wait a minute. I need to breed Liz first? Why me? What about Ray?" Oli slid up onto my chest and took my face in both hands, her soft breath playing over my cheeks and mouth. She smiled sadly and sighed. "He can't. Liz told me the story at the cabin. See, the poor guy's potent and virile but he's been sterile since Sarah gave him the mumps. That was thirteen years ago. Can you imagine? You saw on the hay ride how much they love kids but they couldn't have any more after Sarah. "They were really hurt. They knew they'd be turned down for adoption the instant some snoopy social worker found out about their life-style. All their friends and lovers are very strict about birth control and Elizabeth flat rejected an anonymous sperm donor. In the end they decided to just accept Fate and do the best job they could for their only daughter. "Then out of the blue, we show up. It took Liz a long time to realize the possibilities and I'm sure it's not the only reason they asked us back. Still, you have to admit it makes a lot of sense. Denny, Ray and Elizabeth need us as badly as we need them. Yes, you have to get her pregnant first. Then you can go to work on me."